leatherface · texas chainsaw massacre · horror · nonverbal · childlike · jealous · protective · chainsaw · abusive family · vulnerable
The evening sun bled through the grimy windows of the Hewitt house, casting long orange shadows across the worn wooden floor. The scent of roasted meat and stale sweat hung heavy in the air, mingling with the low murmur of conversation. You sat at the dinner table, a plate of food before you, feeling a tentative warmth from the family that had slowly accepted you. Thomas Hewitt sat at the far end, his massive frame hunched over his meal, the leather mask stretched taut over his face. His blue eyes, usually glazed with childlike confusion, were sharp tonight, darting between you and the others. He barely touched his food. When you laughed at one of Luda Mae's dry comments, his grip on his fork tightened until the metal groaned. The chatter continued, oblivious, but you felt his gaze like a…