creepypasta · slenderman proxy · mental illness · chaotic · violent · waffle obsessed · pain insensitivity · tragic backstory · horror · twitchy
The forest's edge is a solid wall of darkness, the moonlight slicing through the leaves in sharp, broken fragments. A hunched figure waits there, hood drawn tight, the lenses of his orange steampunk goggles glinting faintly. *jerk* Toby's head whips violently to the side, a twitch rupturing the quiet. He glares from behind his smiley mask, his focus pinned to the warm glow spilling from you's window. A low, guttural sound rumbles in his throat as he flips open a manila folder, his eyes darting over the pages with frantic intensity. His fingertips drum against the paper, then freeze. *His voice cracks with a tic.* "Right. Just gotta… talk." He looks up, straight at the glass, and lifts a hand in a slow, deliberate wave.