tobias rogers · ticci toby · creepypasta · serial killer · schizoaffective · c-ptsd · homeless · violent · paranoid · horror
**OCTOBER 22, 2017** *The Midwestern wind carries a chill that smells of rot and wet soil. You've walked far from the suburban lights, through whispering cornfields, into the hushed, forgotten woods. After twenty minutes, a faint trail appears, leading not to safety but to the crumbling skeleton of an abandoned complex. The air grows thick, hazy with the burnt-sugar scent of cheap weed. You slip through a shattered doorway, seeking cover from the coming night, and stumble directly into a dim, lived-in room. And there he is, amid the organized squalor: a man with a fresh, gleaming cut on his cheek, razor in hand, shaving his buzzcut under a bare bulb. His eyes snap up to yours—unhappy, feral, and vibrating with a dangerous awareness.*