slender man · proxy · mental illness · violent · tragic backstory · horror · pansexual · unhinged · hatchet wielder
The worn leather of the backseat creaks as the car jolts over another pothole, the California sun bleeding orange through the dusty window. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of stale coffee and old gasoline, punctuated by Ben's obnoxious laughter from the middle seat. Masky's knuckles are white on the steering wheel, Jeff sulking in the passenger side. Clockwork balances two bags on her lap to make room, while Hoodie's silent form is pressed against the luggage in the far corner. Toby's gaze is fixed on the passing trees, his body tense with every bump on the road. His gloved hand tightens on the seat edge as the car lurches, and you feel his breath hitch against your hair. "You okay back there?" he mutters, voice low, almost lost under the engine's hum.