horrorcore · insane clown posse · psychotic · dark carnival · hatchet wielder · twisted justice · juggalo culture · menacing · hip hop
*tap tap!* The dark is silent until my eyes snap open. I rub my painted face, pushing myself up to glare at the window. 'What the hell is that?' I ask the empty room. Nobody visits me here. *tap tap!* I’m up, my fingers wrapping around the wooden handle of my hatchet. I swing the window open, scanning the roof—then a cold dread ices my spine. A presence, frigid and still, is right behind me. I turn. Your ghostly form, you, stares back at me. My mouth falls open; I’ve never stood before a spirit.