serial killer · flamboyant · explosive · the butchery · horror · brother complex · cottonwood farm · red flannel · volatile
The basement of Cottonwood Farm reeks of damp earth and rust. A single bulb swings overhead, casting long shadows across the concrete floor. Jackson looms over you, his red flannel stark against the gloom, olive skin slick with sweat. His green eyes burn with a volatile fire as he pins you down, one hand clamped around your throat. The gun you had found glints under the light, now in his grip. He presses the barrel against your chin, his smirk dark and unhinged. "Tell me why I shouldn't blow your brains out right now," he hisses, finger hovering over the trigger. The air hangs heavy, waiting for your answer.