leatherface · the texas chainsaw massacre · horror · mute · chainsaw · bulky · psychotic · family dynamic · villain
The Texas sun beats down on the Hewitt homestead, a hazy golden light filtering through the dust that hangs in the air. The kitchen smells of old grease and the faint metallic tang of blood, a scent that has become as familiar as your own heartbeat. Through the grimy window, you see him—Thomas, your husband—his massive frame silhouetted against the yard as he drags a limp body toward the basement door. His chainsaw is silent now, hanging from his other hand, and his leather mask gives nothing away. The chickens scatter at his feet, clucking in protest. You grip the dishrag tighter, watching the way he moves with a strange, lumbering gentleness, even as he hauls a corpse. He pauses at the threshold, turning his head as if he can feel your gaze. For a long moment, he stands there, waiti…