#aggression cw

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I was puking worms while Lucifer from Obey Me was shouting at me for not eating properly AND he was doing the Macarena aggressively.

[dumblemonchickenwing]

[shriketimes]

tuesday januray 17th, 1989.

"Last night, Shrike Heights has faced one of our hazardous Winter blizzards, resulting in many buildings being snowed in. Shrike Mall finds itself yet again in trouble, its employees being trapped inside the building with four of the serial killers who are still currently at large. There are reported to be at least four dead and many others severely injured. Police were called during the attack, but unfortunately it took some time to enter the mall while officers cleared enough snow to get the mall doors open. Officers remained with victims while one attempted to apprehend one of the perpetrators, and they’ve been missing since. Some locals are questioning the reason for the mall to have remained open during such dangerous weather, but officials say that no laws have been broken, and that the attack likely would have happened regardless of weather conditions. Please contact the police department if you see anything suspicious or if you know of the whereabouts of the missing officer."

monday january 16th, 1989.

The new year has begun, the year of 1989, though for Shrike Heights, it doesn’t feel like a fresh start or a clean slate. The horrors of the last two years still have a hold over every resident’s mind, and just as the year before began, none of these crimes have been brought to a close. The year feels unresolved; the residents try their best to move forward despite the nagging weight that makes it impossible to escape the past. 

Snow falls heavily over the small town; a blizzard is incoming, and it’s already disastrously snowy out. Warnings have been issued since the night before, for residents to stay inside of their homes when possible, and for the most part, the town listens. Almost all who are braving the elements tonight are those required at work, with few others out there with them. 

A young boy stands in the streets of Old Shrike. He’s too young to be needed outside of his home for work, but still, he stands there as if the heavy snowfall and vicious wind isn’t almost knocking him over. With all of his strength, he nails a piece of laminated paper to a telephone pole. 

MISSING, it reads in large red letters, written in a juvenile handwriting that matches the boy. Underneath the writing is a photograph of a smart looking teenage boy with a grin almost as blinding as the snow, and beneath that, all of his details. The boy sniffs in the cold, his face numb, but onwards he treks. 

Passing the next house to the next telephone pole, an old man emerging from his home is followed by his door slamming shut with a great gust of wind. Despite being bundled up in many winter layers, his crooked body struggles to shuffle forward on his porch. “In a blizzard?!” His voice is wheezy, and only just strong enough to reach the footpath. “Get home, boy!” He calls, genuine concern for the child on his wrinkled and aged face. 

“I know!” The boy shouts back, much more power behind his voice, still preserved in youth. “I just really need to find my brother.” Desperation is in his tone and on the young face that’s blotchy and numbed by the freezing conditions. He continues forward, and he continues nailing the posters on any available surface for as long as he can withstand the cold.

The unfortunate reality is that this boy isn’t the only person who is missing a loved one; he’s not the only resident of Shrike Heights who had to spend the holiday season and the new year without every member of his family; he’s not the only person who is worried sick enough to face a blizzard, just on the off chance that more posters will help the search. 

More and more people in Shrike Heights are going missing, most without a single trace. There’s speculation that people are leaving Shrike in order to escape the possibility of becoming victims in the next attack, but the families and friends of these missing people fight against the theory; so many of those who are lost would never do such a thing. Some speculate that it’s the town authorities who have started the rumours about people leaving town voluntarily, so they don’t seem liable for more tragedy, but no matter how much they speak out on it, their voices will never be as loud as the likes of Mayor Sweeney.

The town is left only to hope that ‘missing’ isn’t a new synonym for ‘murdered’, though there isn’t much evidence against it. Even Tracks’ owner Owen O’Hanrahan is still missing, and as he was last seen being actively attacked by the killers at the end of summer carnival, many wonder if that’s the fate all missing folk met. 

For the rest of the town, life in Shrike Heights goes on, even despite obstacles like business owners such as Owen being gone. While the blizzard outside grows fiercer and fiercer, Shrike Mall continues to operate. Many stores have decided to close up a little early in order to escape the dangerous conditions on their journey home, but unfortunately not all establishments are able to close, and not all employees are able to find themselves in the warmth and safety of their homes so soon. 

Some employees, in fact, are only arriving at Shrike Mall. Romulus Davies is one of the unlucky ones; he opts to work the late shifts at the mall as he runs his furniture store during the day. He stands in the hallway that leads to the storage room containing his equipment, having run into Michael Webb on his way, not in any rush to get to work while his body still needs to defrost from the bitter cold. 

“The ground’s slipperier inside the entrance of this place than it is out. All the snow everyone’s walked in has melted and left such a damn mess.” Romy complains, shaking his head with mild annoyance.

Michael smiles sympathetically. Getting stuck with frustrating jobs in his own position at the mall, he can understand the annoyance. “At least hardly anyone else is gonna be coming in here now.” Now that most of the establishments are closed for the night, he means. 

Romy nods their head. “Right.” He takes another step in the right direction. “You stuck here for much longer? Long enough to take a look at the cigarette machine, at least?” The cigarette machine in question is the same one that was used to injure Soren Chen last year; it no longer resides in the same place, and it’s been repaired before, but still, the way the mechanisms jam inside of it remind those who know what happened that night of the horrors. 

“Just packing up the rest of my shit now, so I can head out right after taking a look at it.” He’s one step ahead of Romy’s request. “You’d be surprised how many complaints we get about it, even though it’s not the only one we have around the place.” 

Not wanting to prevent Michael from leaving the mall as soon as he can, Romy concludes the conversation, going to collect his equipment. He decides to clean up the entrance first; the last thing they need is for some poor employee to slip and break something just when they’re about to make it out alive. They push the wheeled cart through the maintenance hallways, back out to the front of the mall, though they stop when they see the scene. 

Large snowy footsteps have walked wide strides into the mall. They’re fresh, the snow is yet to melt, and Romy easily concludes the messy mall visitor must have only just walked out of view. He moves forward again. The footprints have been made with large boots; Romy figures it must have been a member of the security team, and while more mess isn’t ideal, he can’t stay mad at the idea of more protection. 

As Romy sweeps the unmelted snow and the water towards the door, Michael appears once again, holding his large tool bag, on his way to the cigarette machine on the other side of the mall. “Been here for not even five minutes, and someone else has already made more mess for me.” Romy updates him, complaining again, but this time laughing. There’s nothing they can do about it; that’s the job they signed up for, like it or not. 

Before Michael can respond, both mall employees have their attention grabbed by the sound of a loud commotion echoing through the vast, empty spaces of the mostly closed mall. It sounds as though weight is being thrown around, and it’s far too loud and abrupt to be the sound of employees doing their job. Suddenly the commotion is added to by the sound of ear piercing metal against metal, and then, a blood curdling scream sounds. 

Romy and Michael both drop their equipment, moving into the middle of the space, looking around for the source with concern and shock on their faces. They scan their surroundings until they stand back to back, but everything has fallen silent. All that can be heard is their breathing, slightly louder than usual - though it might only sound louder as they listen so intently. 

It feels like the silence lasts a lifetime, but then Zach Porter comes into view, running from around the corner, dragging one leg behind him uncomfortably as he flees. His eyes meet Romy and Michael, and he begins to scream. “Run! Run!” His voice is strained and jagged; the pain is obvious. As he comes closer, Romy and Michael realise that he’s covered in blood, but their attention is quickly pulled away from the victim as the Jack-O-Lantern killer comes into view.

The killer is covered in blood, too, and it’s obvious whose it is. Romy begins to stammer, before finally stringing together a coherent sentence. “I let him walk right in, I, holy shit-” The boots that left enormous prints on the ground weren’t left by a guard, they were left by the masked perpetrator who wields his large carving knife.

“Stop. Don’t.” Michael doesn’t want Romy to take any blame, not only because he isn’t to blame, but because they have no time for such a thing when they need to prioritise getting out of harm's way. Zach screams at them to run again, and Michael nods, reaching over to take hold of Romy’s arm. “We need to get out of here, come on-”

“No!” Romy stumbles back, looking even more fearful now. “My sister’s working! My sister’s here, she’s at Donna’s! I can’t-” He stumbles back again, out of Michael’s grip, watching the killer and the victim come closer and closer. He looks to Michael, as if for an answer, and his fear mirrors Romy’s.

“Fuck. My sister’s here too.” He had almost forgotten that Samantha took up an extra shift tonight, and that she was his ride home. “We have to get them, come on.” Michael directs, knowing they have no time to waste. The two make a run for it, towards the escalator that leads to the first floor, where both of their sisters are. 

Michael leads the way, afraid but seemingly better than the other while under pressure; Romy follows closely behind. To get to the escalator, they have to run towards the Jack-O-Lantern, but the killer is further away; the two are hoping they’ll be able to make it up to level one before the killer can reach the path himself. They seem to have a good chance of making it - that is, until they both falter at the sight of the killer catching Zach. The Jack-O-Lantern viciously kicks him down, and Zach is knocked unconscious as his head smacks against the linoleum floor. 

Romy and Michael keep going, running up the escalator as quickly as possible. Michael looks to be nothing but determined, looking only ahead, but as Romy looks back to the killer and his victim; Jack plunges his knife into the man’s wrist, just as he regains consciousness and begins to move. Romy trips in shock, but catches themself and is able to keep going without putting too much distance in between themself and Michael. 

They reach level one more breathless than they would like, but they keep going, heading towards Life Rose On. As they approach the store, Michael is relieved to see his sister Samantha Webb outside of it, clicking the last lock shut, ready to head out. She doesn’t realise that there’s anything sinister going on in the mall until she hears the heavy footsteps and loud breathing.

Immediately upon hearing the noise, her head turns quickly, her breath catching in her throat, and she knows. Samantha hasn’t been physically injured by a killer herself, but she has encountered the Hunter before - in the very place she stands now - and with all of the other mall attacks, she doesn’t have to think twice or ask questions to know that there’s a very bad situation unfolding in the enormous building tonight. 

Michael reaches her first, catching his breath while placing his hands on her shoulders. “There’s a killer downstairs.” There’s no easier way to break the news to her, not when the matter is time sensitive. “Romy, go get your sister.” He prompts. Romy doesn’t even take the time to respond before he takes off running again. “We have to get out of here now, he just killed someone and I-” 

Samantha cuts him off. “What about everyone else in the mall? I’m not the last to close up, there are other people around, other stores open- They’re in danger, and I can’t- We can’t- We need to-” She’s speaking far too fast for her brain to find the right words. “If they’re in danger we need to help them get out of here safely, too.” She’s beginning to panic. Having watched Posey Bryant be attacked right in front of her eyes, and having been unable to do anything to prevent the injuries, Samantha knows what survivors' guilt feels like, and she can’t stomach the thought of letting more people be attacked like that.

“Sam, we need to get out alive.” Michael isn’t as eager to risk his own life - along with his sister’s - for the sake of people he mightn’t have even met before. He doesn’t feel right about making a foolish plan, especially not when he believes anyone else in this position would just run.

Despite not having come to an agreement, the siblings have no more time to talk about it as Samantha catches sight of the Jack-O-Lantern killer stepping to the top of the escalator. She jumps back in horror, then reaches out to take the hand of her brother, and they run. 

While the Webb’s have their short lived debate, Romy finds himself in Donna’s swiftly. It’s clearly closed, though not yet properly, a couple of front lights left on to illuminate Marina Davies and Noah Cohen, who has just come from his own workplace. “I hate walking out by myself when it’s dark.” Marina tells Noah, the two planning on making their way out of the mall together, but their conversation is cut short as they see Romy. Much like Samantha, they both know something is wrong. 

“There’s a killer.” Romy has to break the news as abruptly as Michael did. “Downstairs, he just-” Unlike Michael, who cleverly kept his eyes forward as he fled, Romy was witness to the full gruesome attack on Zach, and he’s rendered unable to speak properly as he feels such intense shock. “We need to get out of here.” He concludes simply.

Marina and Noah share a look of unease and shock, though despite their mirrored expressions, it affects Noah on a different level. This isn’t the first time he’s found himself so close to a killer, in a crime scene unfolding; he’s been through an attack before, similarly to Samantha, and he shares her panic and her dread. This can’t be happening, not again. 

“You’re joking.” Marina steps forward as she speaks. She knows Romy would never joke about such a thing, but she desperately wants this to not be real. 

“I really fucking wish I was.” The despair in Romy’s voice echoes through Donna’s, and the reality of the situation begins to sink in for Marina, unlike Noah, who still stands in the very same position, a ghostly shade of white, uncharacteristically silent. 

Before more can be said, Samantha and Michael bolt past Romy, stopping just past him at the front of the store. “He followed us.” Michael says hurriedly. He’s only sharing the fact so they know to run, he doesn’t mean to make Romy feel responsible for now putting at least three more people in danger; but Romy does take it personally, and he does feel guilt.

He was meant to be saving his sister, but instead, he’s helped the killer find her. “Fuck.” He shakes his head, trying to snap out of it. “Marina.” He steps closer to her and he takes her hand. Romy then gives Noah an apologetic look, too. Though Noah isn’t his sibling too, he still feels the intense guilt for having led the killer to him all the same. 

“Noah,” Michael only now realises that Marina isn’t alone, and that her company is the Snapshot employee he knows from his consistent work in the establishment. “Come on,” he steps further into the store too, reading fear on Noah’s face. “We need to get out of here.” Though he didn’t agree with Samantha about rounding up all the remaining employees to get them to safety, he’d never leave someone like Noah behind. 

Despite the group being terrified, they know they need to move quickly. One moment of hesitation could be enough for them to end up like Posey, or Jupiter Bernstein, or the countless other victims they either knew or didn’t. They run out of Donna’s, and with the route to the first floor blocked by the killer, they all run in the opposite direction. 

Stepping out of the store, Noah and Marina see the killer for the very first time. Neither of them want to see just how close he is to them, but regardless, all five heads turn to look at him, and the sight strikes fear in all. “No.” Noah mutters breathlessly, hand tapping his pocket as he runs, double checking that he has his inhaler on him because if the running doesn’t constrict his lungs to the point of needing it, his fear certainly will. 

They all move at the fastest pace they can, and Michael leads them up to the second floor. It feels slightly counter productive, but they need time, and they need space from the killer; running right into his knife doesn’t sound like the smartest game plan. 

Immediately upon reaching level two, the group finds Calista Tjhoea, who walks towards the same stationary escalator they’ve all just stepped off of. She’s on her way out, but she stops in her tracks when she’s met with the panicked people. “Come with us,” Samantha is the first to speak, ahead of the group beside her brother. “We need to get out of the mall.”

“There’s a killer.” Michael takes over, feeling the need to cut to the chase to express the seriousness of what’s going on. “If we go down the stairwell we can make it to the door, but he’s behind us.” So they can’t continue the way Calista was going, he means. Before even waiting for a response, Michael begins to move again, Samantha, Romy, Marina and Noah following. 

Calista stands with an expression of shock for a moment, but then she turns and follows the group. She’s not yet able to process what’s going on, but regardless, Calista sees no harm in exiting via the stairwell tonight. She trails behind them, a little speechless in her shock. 

Before they can get far, Junko Jacobsen emerges from Daniela’s Salon. Samantha jumps as she spots her, holding a hand over her rapidly beating heart. She’s only frightened because the salon’s lights are off, so she thought the store was properly closed up and didn’t expect a figure to suddenly appear. 

Junko had been about to lock the door and leave for the night, but the sound of the group outside of the store caught their attention. “What’s going on?” She asks; she takes one look at the hurrying group and she knows something isn’t right. While others might have hid at the first sight of trouble in the mall, Junko can’t help but investigate. 

“Apparently there’s a killer.” It’s clear in Calista’s tone that she hasn’t broken out of her shock and the reality of the situation hasn’t hit her. “Like, in the mall right now. I was about to leave, but…” She realises it’s not the time to elaborate, and she slowly begins to feel a little more afraid. 

“Quickly, we need to get out of here.” Michael speaks up again, though before he can share the plan with Junko, Eisa Sanders’ voice can be heard from behind them. This time, Noah is startled by the presence of another, her voice evoking the feeling of fright as it’s unexpected. 

“There’s a killer?” Eisa asks, eyebrows raised, in slight disbelief that she’s finally present for one of the attacks, after all this time. “I-” She’s cut off by Michael.

“Yes there’s a killer, and he’s behind us, so we really need to get our asses out of here.” He’s short, but not meaning to be rude. He’s only desperate to find safety again, understandably, as soon as possible.

Everyone around seems to understand, or even if they disagree with his attitude, they prioritise getting out of the mall, too. They begin to run towards the stairwell, only one more time, they don’t make it there without an obstacle. 

The last employee inside of Stitch by Stitch, Kamila May, steps towards the door, holding multiple large sheets of fabric in her hands as she inspects the echoing footsteps and incomprehensible speech. “Has there been an attack?” She asks.

“There has, come with us.” Romy’s voice is much more gentle than the tone used when Eisa joined the group, though he sounds far more afraid than Michael, which doesn’t help the fear levels for the rest of them.

Kamila swallows thickly, turning on her heels, throwing the fabric down, but a white sheet remains standing. Confusion very quickly turns into pain as the Ghost slashes her across the abdomen with the sharp blade of their knife. Kamila screams, and Michael, the closest to her, rushes over. 

The Ghost slashes Kamila across the stomach, the chest, both of her arms, one of her cheeks, and finally the throat, all before Michael even reaches her. He wishes to help, but just as he’s a step away, Kamila drops to the ground, gurgling and choking on her own blood. “Oh fuck.” Michael jumps back, finally breaking his strong facade, body wobbling as he watches Kamila reach up to her bleeding throat with blood covered hands. 

Samantha runs over, despite the horror of the sight, and she takes Michael’s arm to steady him. He pulls away from her grip only seconds later as he moves back towards Kamila, wanting to help. “It’s gonna be okay,” he tells her, despite the gut feeling that it won’t be. Before he can squat down to try to hold pressure on the worst of her wounds, the Ghost swiftly and smoothly approaches, at quite the speed, and Michael can’t stumble back in time before the Ghost’s bloody knife begins to cut him, too. 

They slash him across his arms as he holds them up in defence, moving back as best as he can while trying to dodge the attack. Samantha jumps back, too, so abruptly that she falls down onto her back. Marina and Romy both run over, helping her back up before she can become the next victim. They try to pull her away, but she tries to lunge forward to Michael, who turns slightly away, only to earn cuts across his side. “Ah!” He shouts, in pain. “Run!” He adds, the second he notices Samantha’s attempt at helping him. It’s not worth it.

The group of Eisa, Calista, Junko and Noah all stand behind Romy and Marina, who try to save Samantha from getting hurt helping her brother. They don’t move yet, perhaps frozen in shock or fear or guilt - or all of the above. But Noah abruptly calls attention to the reason why that changes. “Uh, guys.” He speaks up, voice shaky, but heard. He looks down the mall, in the direction they came from, and the Jack-O-Lantern is walking towards them. Noah doesn’t have to say anything else for the group to follow his line of sight and see the killer, too - even Michael, as he turns more and is slashed across the back. 

“Run!” Michael says again, and as he finally has his back towards the killer, despite his injuries, he’s able to run at the same time as the rest of the group. Kamila, however, is not only unable to run, but her struggling has stopped, and blood continues to pool around her body as she lays lifelessly on the floor. 

They reach the stairwell, and Junko pulls the door open. The group files in with no hesitation. Michael trails behind the rest, though Samantha refuses to leave his side, even if he is moving slower. They make it to the ground floor in one piece, and they sprint to the front entrance of the mall. Romy is the first to reach the doors, and once there, Michael pushes to the front of the group too. 

They stand there for a beat, waiting for the automatic doors to open and let them into the pitch black exterior. When nothing happens, Eisa swiftly moves to press the button that manually opens the door. A whirring sound is made, but the door still doesn’t move. Michael and Romy get the same idea at the same time, and they try to pry the doors open themselves. Only then do they realise that they’re not seeing the pitch black of night outside, no, they’ve been snowed in. 

“Oh god, oh no,” Marina’s chest feels tight, though not as tight as Noah’s. He braces himself against the wall, staring out into the mall with wide, frightened eyes, alert. 

“Where else can we get out?” Junko asks, pushing her glasses further up her nose, breathless and afraid. 

“The back?” Calista suggests. This all feels very real to her now. 

“The wind was coming from that direction.” Eisa muses, pointing to the front doors. “Maybe it isn’t snowed over yet.” 

Even if it is, they have to try. They’ll only end up caught if they keep standing there, and Michael needs medical help, even despite Samantha’s attempts to put pressure on his various wounds to stop the bleeding. Again, they run. 

On the way to the other side of the mall, they pass Shrike Grocers; with the grocery store being one of few places in the mall with extended hours, all of the lights are brightly shining, it’s still open - only, the employees aren’t working. Instead, they’re crowded around Zach Porter, who shocks Romy and Michael by still being alive. The group stops running. 

“Is he chasing you?” One of the employees asks the group, Zach’s blood dripping down their arms as their hands hold onto his wounded wrist. 

“He was; we tried to get out but we’re snowed in at the front.” Romy tells them, struggling to look at the group due to the horrific state that Zach is in. 

“You should hide,” Calista speaks up again. “We’re going to check the back doors, but you should turn the lights off and act like the store is closed, in case he comes by, after us.” She can only imagine the field day Jack would have, walking past the group, and the already injured. They’d all be dead in seconds. 

“We can check to see if we’re snowed in out there, too, and if not one of us can come back and we can all get out.” Samantha adds, not wanting them to get the impression that they were being left behind; it was just far too risky to have Zach running around the mall in his condition, especially if they are snowed in out the back of the mall. 

“It’s smart to stay split up,” Another grocery store employee agrees with the plan. “We’ll call the police while you go. We just called security, and-” he’s cut off as two security guards approach quickly. He begins to fill them in on the situation and the plan without hesitation. Like Michael, this employee appears good under pressure.

One security guard rushes in to help with Zach, while the other, Heath Perry, stays with the group outside of the store. “I’ll go with you,” Heath tells Noah, Marina, Romy, Junko, Eisa, Michael and Samantha. “I can’t let you go alone.” No one is in the position to deny the security escort, especially not Michael.

As the lights are being turned off and the grate is being pulled across the front of the store, those on the mission to the back of the mall continue on. The path to the back isn’t a long one, though under the circumstances, it feels like it’s taking them forever. Finally they see the large doors, but before they can reach them, the Jack-O-Lantern walks out from the shadows, blocking the way. The group skids to a jarring stop. 

Before they can turn and run back, Jack moves towards them at a pace faster than before. It scares the entire group as he charges towards them, and though they scramble to move out of the way, not all of them can move in time. 

Romy was closest to the killer, so he now finds himself at the very back as they all turn and flee. As he runs, a sharp, burning pain begins in his lower back, and immediately spreads all throughout his body. He falls to the ground with a scream. Marina turns just in time to see Jack pulling his bloody carving knife out of her sibling’s back. “Romy!” She screams, running to him. 

Heath beats her to Romy, and he doesn’t show any hesitation before using his shoulder to slam against the killer. Jack only takes two steps back; the tackle isn’t successful, he’s standing too firmly, he’s too sturdy. Heath looks at the killer with fear in his eyes as Marina helps Romy up with a struggle. Romy’s pain is severe, and Marina’s entire body feels too shaky and weak to pull him up - though somehow, she does. 

As the siblings move away from the killer, back to those still running, Heath lunges forward, reaching for the killer’s knife. He grabs his wrist, then with his other hand, the small section of the handle that Jack’s large hand isn’t wrapped around. Heath struggles for the knife, but his hand slips, and the length of his palm is cut open. It stings, but he keeps up the struggle. 

Jack doesn’t falter. He rips Heath’s hand off of him, and then kicks him down onto his back. Heath’s head smacks against the floor, but he remains conscious, and tries to get back onto his feet. Before he can, the Jack-O-Lantern killer stomps on his chest. Heath can’t even scream, his insides feeling crushed, broken, his lungs no longer working. 

As Marina, Romy, Noah, Calista, Eisa, Junko, Samantha and Michael all run, the Jack-O-Lantern mutilates Heath’s face, carving in it a jagged smile, then digging out his eyeballs, working until he’s complete with the transformation of the now lifeless body.

“We can’t go back to the grocery store.” Romy pleads, struggling at the back of the group but trying to catch up. “We can’t lead him right to the others.” 

“We can find somewhere else to hide, while we wait for the cops.” Marina suggests, her struggle evident in her breathless and strained voice as she holds on to her sibling, awkwardly positioned with a hand over his wound, trying to stop the bleeding - much like Samantha is doing with Michael up ahead. 

“There are all the stores we left unlocked upstairs.” Junko suggests, loud enough for the entire group to hear, unlike Marina and Romy’s speech.

“I also left Donna’s unlocked.” Marina nods. “I don’t want to go back up to find the Ghost again.” She shivers as she thinks of Kamila’s body, left up there.

Eisa turns her head yet keeps moving forward, looking at those speaking, and she notices Romy’s struggle. She stops until they catch up, and when they do, she helps Marina apply pressure to the stab wound, and she helps take some of Romy’s weight as they all keep going. “I can help more once we’ve stopped.” She tells them, also looking ahead to Michael, who is bleeding a lot, but lucky in the way that he doesn’t have such a deep wound. 

The group agrees, and they make it up to level one again. Romy, Marina and Eisa only just make it off the escalator when they see the Jack-O-Lantern on the other side of the mall, as if waiting for them. Fear strikes inside of them all again. “He must have gone up the stairwell.” Noah thinks out loud breathlessly. None of them are sure of what to do.

“Level two.” Junko throws out the first idea. The Ghost may still be up there, but they know that there are many stores unlocked and available to hide in before they reach Stitch by Stitch, so they hope they can go undetected by the second killer. They all run up the next escalator; none of them feel like there’s another option.

“The Black Cat.” Eisa suggests, and they all rush into the dark store. They crouch down, hiding against walls, behind shelves, the first places they find. The store is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, the sounds of Michael wincing as Samantha and Junko help with his injuries, and the sound of Romy groaning as Marina and Eisa help with theirs. With no sign of either killer approaching, they wait. 

As the group try their best to escape the killers, the remaining employees in Key Of Reason are eager to close up shop and make their way home. Jamison Burr and Veronica Velasco struggle to drag the last of the heavy boxes from the latest shipment into the storage room out the back, neither of their spirits high as they were made to wait for hours for the shipment that came late. 

Thankfully with the job almost done, the end is in sight. They’re both relieved, but particularly Veronica. It doesn’t take living through an attack to make someone fearful of the late shift at the mall, but it certainly doesn’t help, and after Veronica’s encounter with a killer right here in this very store, she doesn’t want to be here for a second longer than necessary. She pushes the last box into place with all of her strength and Jamie’s help. “Finally.” She huffs, straightening up again. “I’ll get the keys to lock the room up.”

“Thanks,” Jamie continues to straighten up the boxes while he waits for her to return. “Everything else should be good to go after this, we can finally get out of here.” He can’t think of anything else the pair has neglected to get done. A tired smile graces his face, though it’s wiped swiftly as a loud crashing comes from the front of the store. 

Without hesitation, Jamie steps out to the horrifying sight. The Skeleton stands over Veronica, holding the femur bone that has clearly just been used to attack her. The skin on her forehead is split and bleeding, and she’s fallen into a table that had magazines stacked upon it. “Shit.” Jamie is terrified, but he runs towards the pair, wanting to help Veronica out. 

He reaches them, though the Skeleton swings his weapon at Jamie before he can help; he only just avoids a collision, though he feels it graze his hair as he ducks. He stumbles backwards, and looks at Veronica. They’re in shock, not moving from the ground.

She’s terrified; this attack resembles her previous encounter with the killer so closely, and she isn’t sure that she can live through an attack here twice. She’s only able to break free of the shock when the Skeleton’s bone smacks against her head harshly one more time. The cut on her forehead splits open wider, and more blood begins to rush down her face. She falls to her side, but finally, she begins to scramble up onto her feet. 

“Go.” Jamie rushes to grab her, to help her up all the way and out of the store, but just as his fingers make contact with her skin, the Skeleton swings the bone and hits her across the back. Veronica is winded, thrown onto her hands and knees before she collapses onto her front. Immediately the weapon is swung in Jamie’s direction once again, and this time, it makes contact with his stomach. 

He falls onto his backside with a groan. His eyes prickle with tears, but he forces himself up, even while feeling unable to breathe. He reaches Veronica again, and though he tries to pull her back up, she’s dizzy and limp, wheezing and groaning uncomfortably as she’s trying yet failing. “Come on Veronica.” He pulls a little harder, and she finally gets her feet flat on the floor. 

It lasts a second before Jamie is hit again. He’s hit across the side this time, and he’s sent into the drum kit set up beside them. As he topples over it, skin splits on his eyebrow, and his entire body feels badly bruised.

Veronica somehow manages to stay on her feet, though she’s swaying. She blinks tears out of her eyes and inhales loud, jagged breaths, quickly until she’s able to step forward to try to make a run for it again. She can’t properly see the path in front of her, blood, tears, and dizziness blurring her vision, but she tries. As she steps towards the door, not quite running but moving fast, the Skeleton swings and hits her one more time. 

This time, they smash the femur bone against her left calf; Veronica screams in agony as a loud crunch and crack sounds, followed by the sensation of her flesh tearing apart in the front of her leg as her bone pierces its way through her. This time, when she falls to the floor, she hits her head harshly against the tiles, and she lays there lifelessly while blood pools around her. 

Seemingly satisfied with his work, the Skeleton walks out of the store, leaving the two victims behind in search of finding the next. 

Jamie waits for the killer to be out of sight before rushing to Veronica’s side. He feels for a pulse - she’s still alive. He quickly pulls off his flannelette shirt, and he does the best he can to tie up the large wound on her broken leg. Veronica comes to with a loud scream of pain. “Sorry.” Jamie tells them hurriedly. 

“Where is he?” Veronica slurs their words, and hiccups as they try to hold back a cry of pain. 

“He walked out, but I don’t trust him to not come back.” He helps Veronica as they try to sit up, shaking with pain and fear. “I think we should hide.” He decides. “I’ll call 911, get you some help, but I think we’re better off hiding out the back while I do.” He swallows thickly; he’s trying to be the strong one. “D’you think you can get there if you put your weight on me, rather than your leg?” 

Veronica isn’t sure, but regardless, she nods. “Hiding- okay.” Veronica is more the fighter type, but she has to accept that she has no other choice right now. They try to stand her up, but even while trying their best to avoid her broken leg, she screams out in pain, the bone pushing up on the torn and bleeding flesh as she moves positions. Maybe she doesn’t even have this choice, after all. 

On the same floor, Juniper Zhao and November Cain are about to walk out of Skin Deep. The lights are all off, and there’s nothing more to do than lock the door and find their way home. Just before they walk out, however, Juniper catches sight of a shadowy figure, and their gut tells them to hang back. “Just a second.” They tell November, a hushed voice and a hand up to gesture ‘stop’. 

November, a cautious person, immediately agrees to stay put when they see the figure, too. They step back into the store a little further, wanting to be sure that they’re definitely concealed in the shadows. 

The two employees wait, eyes wide as they look out and see the Skeleton walking past the tattoo parlour. They both hold their breaths, the situation feeling so scary that it doesn’t even feel real. Once the Skeleton is far enough away for Juniper to risk whispering, she turns her head to look at November. “That was one of the killers, right?” She’s only just begun to learn about the killers, and while November hasn’t lived in Shrike Heights for long, either, she trusts them to know more than she does. 

There’s no way that that couldn’t have been a killer. November has never seen one in person before, but regardless, they’re sure it is. They don’t dare speak, afraid to make a sound, but they nod their head.

Juniper turns back; the killer walks into Fast Times, and Juniper knows immediately that they need to take this opportunity to escape. “I know it’s scary,” Juniper starts, “but we need to run.” With the killer out of sight, and likely preoccupied with others - though that’s not a detail she wishes to think of - it’s now or never. 

November feels as though their heart has stopped beating. “We have to go.” Juniper reaffirms. November swallows hard. They don’t want to risk getting caught, getting hurt, but they don’t much like the idea of staying here - especially not if Juniper is going to flee regardless. They nod their head again. Slowly, and as quietly as possible, the two co-workers open the door, shut it behind them, and then they bolt. 

As they run together, they hear a scream, and they’re not the only ones to hear it. Martin Montgomery makes his way out, too, but he finds himself directly outside of Key Of Reason when the scream comes from inside of it. He looks in, and can’t miss the bloody scene. “Oh fuck.” 

Jamie looks to the source of the cursing, and is relieved to see another person - specifically one not injured. He helps Veronica settle back down before standing up himself. “Please,” he begins, desperate and breathless. “I’m trying to get her out the back, so I can call for help but stay hidden.” He wipes the blood from his eyebrow that threatens to roll into his eye. “Can you help?” 

Martin nods. Jamie hasn’t told them that there’s a killer in the mall, but they don’t need to be told to know; the most common workplace injury in the mall is one inflicted by a killer. “Where’d they go?” They ask, wanting to try to gauge how much danger they’re in by taking the time to help. 

The two wrap their arms around Veronica, who keeps slumping forward, in and out of consciousness, as Jamie explains. “Down to the left.” He says. “The Skeleton.” He adds.

“Careful,” Martin almost cuts Jamie off, speaking to Veronica who almost slumps forward onto her bad leg now that they have her standing. 

As they speak, Juniper and November reach the music store. They look in with horror, so much blood in the place the three are gathered. They hesitate, looking at each other before looking back, and then Juniper walks into the store. She doesn’t like being out in the open, and as they’ve hesitated, not just made a run for it, she’s afraid that the killer will emerge from Fast Times and catch them. Naturally, November follows, though no option available for them to take right now feels like a good one.

The mall employees back down in the Black Cat sit in silence as the attack on Jamie and Veronica unfolds. Their breathing calms, the two injured find the most comfortable set ups for themselves as they hide, and they wait patiently. Even though the snow is thick outside, they’re hoping that the authorities can arrive promptly; it’s all they can really do as they wait - hope. 

In the most unexpected moment, their silence is broken jarringly and abruptly. Calista shrieks, and she stands from her position crouched in front of a rack of clothing. She falls forwards, almost tripping, but steadying herself last minute. Noah, who now sits behind Calista, can see a large cut across her back. He stands, just in time to spot the Ghost. He runs to the door. 

The others all get to their feet too, Michael and Romy both helped, though both in better condition after a moment of rest and some makeshift first aid. “Upstairs!” Eisa calls out in suggestion; they can’t run back in the direction of the Jack-O-Lantern, but it’s clear that they have to move. Junko helps Calista stay steady as they all flee, Samantha helping Michael, and Marina helping Romy. 

The Skeleton walks into the still bright Fast Times, though upon stepping into the store, he can’t immediately find his next victims. This doesn’t deter him. Holding the blood splattered bone in his hand, he starts smashing things in the store, items off of shelves, display cases to pieces, swinging at everything he passes as he moves menacingly further in. 

Ho Duk-Soo and Rune Lancaster are the reasons for the lights still being on, both still there, out the back of Fast Times. Duckie is the first to hear noise coming from the store, extremely alert despite this not being his place of work. “What the fuck?” He mumbles, stepping away from the other and towards the door. He doesn’t think to be afraid.

“Wait.” Rune warns, then jumping as another smash sounds. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s afraid of what’s out there, but he doesn’t want to admit it, he doesn’t want to show weakness. 

Duckie turns to look at Rune, but he doesn’t say anything else before he opens the door. He steps out, and the second Duckie’s eyes find the Skeleton, he rushes back inside the office. He pulls the door shut and he flicks the lock closed securely. “Have you got a knife?” He asks with a casualty that suggests he believes everyone should. 

The question only scares Rune more. “Duk, what?” More smashing, clattering and banging comes from the store front. Rune wraps his arms around himself for comfort. 

“A knife, or a bat, or anything.” Duckie shakes his head, as if frustrated that Rune can’t give him exactly what he’s requesting right away. 

“What did you see?” Rune asks in response, and though he asks this, he knows. He’s not sure which of the killers is out there, but he knows this isn’t just some vandal causing havoc in the store.

“If we don’t have anything I can use to fight then we need to barricade the door.” Duckie clearly wants to take action to help, not interested in talking about it. He steps towards the desk. “Take the other side, help me pull it over the door.” He instructs. Rune listens. Together, they half carry, half slide the heavy wooden desk so that it’s blocking the door. The second they both take their hands off of it, a loud pounding on the door frightens them. Rune jumps, and even Duckie flinches. 

The two of them move away from the door, together towards the back of the office. Duckie’s eyes stay alert in the direction of the banging, while Rune’s flicker between the door and Duckie, his chest moving unevenly. The door cracks, splitting in the middle; Rune jumps again, and reaches to hold onto Duckie’s arm. This time, Duckie doesn’t flinch, but he’s only putting on a brave front. Duckie is scared, too. 

“What do we do?” Rune asks desperately, loud thuds against the door causing the damage to grow. “Duk, what do we do?” He asks again, louder this time, feeling trapped, not seeing a way out. 

As brave as Duckie is, he doesn’t have the answer, and he has no time to think as the door is quickly smashed in. The Skeleton moves with frightening haste, kicking the desk out of the way and swinging his weapon at the two. The femur makes impact with Duckie’s side, and he’s thrown across the small room, into the wall. Rune can’t move out of the way before the same happens to him. 

The victims force themselves to recover. Duckie jumps forward, next to the side of the desk, and when the Skeleton steps forward on the other side to follow, Duckie pushes the desk with all of his strength, temporarily jamming the killer in between it and the wall. He takes the opportunity to run, but before he can make it out of the office, the Skeleton attacks him again, having pushed the desk away with ease.

He hits Duckie in the same place, his ribs cracking, his body thrown out of the room and onto the ground. Duckie groans, unable to move, but Rune scoops him up and onto his feet desperately. “It’s okay Duk, it’s okay.” He soothes, though as he does so he has to push the man forward, prompting him to keep moving. 

They try to make a run for it, but their path is complicated by the mess inside of the store. Duckie holds back groans of pain and discomfort as he manoeuvres himself over broken skateboards and piles of accessories, Rune right behind him, and unfortunately the Skeleton right behind Rune. 

Not even halfway through the store, the Skeleton hits Rune again, square in the back so they’re pushed forward into Duckie. They both fall to the ground. Rune sits up, pushing himself through pain, only to be hit across his side and sent back down beside Duckie. Duckie gets up, and this time, the Skeleton kicks him down. Duckie’s cheek is cut on a skateboard truck as he lands, but he gets immediately back up again, as does Rune.

Rune is the first to keep running again, and as Duckie follows, the Skeleton moves faster to attack him again. The femur bone makes impact with the same, already injured side of Duckie’s, and the cracking sound repeats, the pain increasing tenfold. Rune doesn’t hesitate to turn and pull Duckie back up, and while they do so successfully, Duckie screams in pain.

Finally, the two are able to make it out of the store, though what they find outside of it isn’t any better. 

While the two are attacked by the Skeleton, Junko, Eisa, Calista, Michael, Samantha, Noah, Marina and Romy all find themselves outside of Key Of Reason. They find the two injured individuals, as well as Martin, Juniper and November. 

They rush into the store, some to help, some to be better hidden from any approaching killer. Martin and Jamie have Veronica halfway to the back room when they find themselves with more company. They explain what they’re doing, just as they did with Juniper and November, and they keep going. Even if others wished to help there isn’t much anyone else can do. 

“Should we do the same as the grocery store? Turn the lights off and hide?” Marina suggests. 

“I don’t think hiding helped us very much last time.” Junko counters, still beside Calista, who still struggles to catch her breath after fleeing from the hiding spot in which she was attacked. 

Before anyone else can say or do another thing, November gasps, loud enough to call attention to themself, dodging the Ghost just in time to avoid their blade. They stumble and fall, but they push themself up again quickly. Everyone else scatters around the store, trying to avoid the killer, too. Only Jamie, Veronica and Martin are unable to run. 

“Oh god,” Romy watches the Ghost take advantage of the situation, and before they can move to do anything, the Ghost slashes Martin across the arm. They have to let go of Veronica to move away from the knife before the cut becomes worse, and when they do, both Veronica and Jamie struggle. As the Ghost follows Martin, Romy moves in to take his place in helping Veronica. “I’m hurt,” he prefaces. “but I can try to help.” 

The three move faster, Veronica sobbing with pain. As the Ghost is preoccupied with all of the other potential victims, they’re able to make it into the small office safely. They sit Veronica down on the chair, and only once her weight is off Romy does he realise how badly he hurts, and how dizzy he feels. Jamie sees for the first time, the large, dark patch of blood seeping through their clothes. “We need to get you help, too.” He shuts the door. 

Romy doesn’t want to just hide, not without his sister at least, but he takes one step back towards the door and he collapses. 

The rest of those in Key Of Reason all flee from the store, and when they exit, they find Duckie and Rune, and the Skeleton following them closely behind. In the other direction, the Jack-O-Lantern has found his way to them, too. 

Everyone splits up, running in different directions to avoid different killers. It’s terribly difficult, as it seems each time they’ve escaped one, they find themselves face to face with another. 

The Skeleton first reaches November; in swift motions, before November can move away, the killer beats them over and over with their weapon. Harsh blows hit them on their sides, their stomach, and their back. November gasps and cries, but they can’t seem to stumble their way out of it, not until Juniper pulls on their shirt to get them out of the line of fire, their only choice to help. 

In doing this, Juniper gets hit too, though only a couple of times, and not with as much force as they quickly move to run with November by their side, away from the killer. The impacts still hurt an awful lot, but they escape. 

The Skeleton moves on to Junko. They swing their weapon at them, but Junko dodges it at least three times, hurriedly and desperately; the last time they move quickly to dodge the attack, they fall down onto their back. Eisa is there to pick them back up again, and they run in another direction. The Skeleton doesn’t follow as they turn to find Calista. 

He swings the large bone, and hits Calista over the head. The impact throws her across the floor, and the pain in her back, where she was cut by the Ghost, makes her scream when she lands. Martin is right there, and they reach down to help her back up. “You got this, let’s go.” They encourage her as she begins to cry. 

While Duckie and Rune escaped the Skeleton, as they try to flee towards the escalators to escape the mall, they meet the Ghost right in the middle of the space. Duckie is the first to try to dodge an attack, but also the first to do so unsuccessfully. The Ghost begins to slice his skin open, over his arms and his side opposite to the one the Skeleton already brutalised. 

Rune jumps forward, taking hold of Duckie and trying to pull him away safely. Before they can help, however, the Ghost cuts them both all over, all across their fronts until both their own and each other’s blood is splattered all over them. Despite all of the pain they’re in, they run, just as the rest of the mall employees around them are doing. 

Unfortunately, they run right into the Jack-O-Lantern. With a heavy boot, he kicks forwards, kicking Duckie right under his broken ribs, sending him flying backwards. He makes impact with one of the bench seats bolted to the floor of the mall, and he flips over it. Both the impact and the landing on the cold, hard floor causes Duckie’s arm to snap; he recognises his bone as broken immediately. Rune appears by his side before he can pretend he isn’t crying. 

The Jack-O-Lantern doesn’t pursue the pair any further as Michael rushes past, frightened and woozy from the loss of blood already experienced. As he passes, Jack lunges forward and he holds out his knife; the dirty blade cuts him across the side, and he stumbles. Before Michael even gets the chance to fall, Jack steps forward and he kicks him in the back, harshly to the ground. Michael feels a crack in his chest, and struggles to breathe. 

Marina and Samantha both begin pulling Michael back up onto his feet as Jack once again turns away and finds another victim. Eisa and Junko are moving swiftly, but they’re not quick enough.

The Jack-O-Lantern killer kicks Eisa in the back, and he kicks her right into the large, white sheet known as the Ghost. She screams in pain and fright as she gets tangled in the bottom of the sheet, and is unable to find her way out before she begins feeling sharp pain slicing across her body, over her forearms, her sides and her legs. She’s finally freed with the help of Junko, and while they both try to run, Eisa falls after her first step. She groans in pain. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Junko reassures her as she stands again, quickly, blinking through tears. Junko takes her arm for support, and they continue on their way. 

Samantha leads the way down the escalator to level two, Marina, Michael, Juniper and November following closely, Eisa and Junko a little way after. All of the attacks have happened so quickly, almost simultaneously, but no one is ready to give up yet. It’s easy to move like your life depends on it when it really does.

As Eisa and Junko step onto the stationary escalator respectively, and begin to rush down it to catch up with the others, Junko is hit in the back harshly. She falls forward, into Eisa, and the two of them fall down to the very bottom. They’re both winded, but they find the strength to get back up before the Skeleton catches them. 

They run, heaving in pain, but it doesn’t take long until they believe they’ve lost the Skeleton. Just as they go to pass Stitch by Stitch, they notice the enormous blood puddle - but Kamila’s dead body is no longer there. Both Eisa and Junko stop running, shocked, confused. But now that they’ve hesitated, and now that Eisa has stopped for a moment long enough to realise just how painful all of her injuries are, she speaks. “I think we should hide.” 

She understands that they weren’t safe last time they hid, down in the Black Cat, but they’re seriously running out of options. In pain, too, Junko nods. They rush into the store, and hide out the back, trying to cover themselves with hung up garments and sheets of fabric. 

As the two hide, Marina, Samantha, Michael, Juniper and November continue down the next escalator to level one. Before any of them can think about feeling optimistic about an escape, the Jack-O-Lantern makes his way down, too. Michael, Juniper and November rush to head down to the ground floor, but before Marina or Samantha can follow, they’re both attacked.

He reaches Samantha first; he makes an attempt at stabbing her, but she jumps to the side, and is only cut on her chest. It stings, but she knows she’s lucky it’s not so much worse. Luck is the last thing she feels, however, when Jack, as if frustrated, smacks her down with a closed fist, causing her to fall to the floor. 

The killer turns to Marina next. She’s steps away from the escalator, but she doesn’t make it as he charges towards her, and he plunges his knife deeply into her abdomen. He twists the blade sickly as he pulls it from her flesh, and then stabs her again, directly above the last wound. Before he can twist the blade to pull it out, Samantha pulls Marina’s body back, free from the blade, and despite her own injuries, she helps to support Marina as they run. 

They make their way to Donna’s, the first available and open store. Marina chokes on cries as she moves, holding the wounds, trying her best to not scream at the pain. She’s a tough girl, she’s been through a lot, but this pain is unimaginable. Samantha helps to guide them inside. She leads them to the very back, and she hides them in between the extremely tall shelves that contain the hundreds of pairs of rental skates. Samantha takes off her sweater, and she wraps it around Marina, pulling it tight to try to slow the bleeding. They wait. 

Michael, November and Juniper are the only ones who make it down to the ground level. Michael’s broken into a sweat, and he sways as he moves due to the severity of his injuries, particularly the blood loss. November and Juniper are in pain, too, though as they’re still at the very least able to stand, they help Michael the rest of the way to the grocery store. Juniper takes Michael’s wait, an arm over her shoulder, while November leads the way, keeping a comfortable distance - if anything can be considered comfortable right now. “Where’s my sister?” Michael slurs, but his speech is so impaired that neither of the others understand what he’s trying to say. 

A grocer helps the three into the dark and quiet store. “Holy shit, where’s everyone else?” They ask as they reach to help take Michael’s weight. 

“Don’t know.” November mutters, shaking their head, too overwhelmed and overstimulated from the traumatic events. They move back to keep more distance between themself and the others, standing behind Juniper, Michael, and the grocer.

“We were all separated.” Juniper says, having missed the deaths of Heath and Kamila, unable to break the hard news even if they wanted to. 

“We’re pretty sure the cops are already here,” the grocer continues, a hushed voice. “A couple of us thought we could hear them. When we called they said something about the blizzard, we think they’re digging us out now.” 

Relief can’t be felt yet, fear still apparent, and that feeling not unfounded. The three from upstairs are led in the dark towards the rest of the group, but as November trails behind the others, they’re suddenly knocked down. 

The Ghost begins to slash them all over as they’re stuck on the ground, cutting them in all the places where they’ve already been injured by the Skeleton, along with across their arms as they try to shield their face. They cry out in pain, and a flashlight pointing to them to see what’s happening leads the Ghost to the rest of the group. 

The Ghost moves towards them, and begins to cut up and brutalise multiple of the grocery store employees. Juniper tries to run back out, though as they reach the grate that is shut over the store once again, they can see through the gaps that both the Jack-O-Lantern and the Skeleton stand outside. She swallows thickly, feeling the blood draining from her face. 

Higher up in the mall, while everyone flees downstairs via the escalator, others decide to run all the way over to the stairwell in hopes of a better pathway down to safety. Calista, Noah, Duckie, Rune and Martin all reach the door together. Martin pulls it open swiftly, rushing in, the others following to the best of their abilities through their pain. 

As Martin goes to run down the stairs, they run right into the Hunter’s knife. The tip of the blade penetrates their stomach, and they jump back instinctively, almost immediately. They gasp in shock, both hands clasping over the wound to stop the blood flow. 

Unable to go down, and not wanting to go back to the rest of the killers, the group must go up. Noah grabs the back of Martin’s coat, pulling on it to prompt him to run quickly, and together, they all climb the stairs. Calista is the first to reach the very last door in the stairwell. “We can’t.” She pants, shaking her head. The roof is too dangerous.

“We have no other choice.” Duckie reminds her, and while it’s far from ideal, Calista opens the door, and makes her way out onto the roof. The rest follow, and once all out in the snowy conditions, Noah, Rune and Martin try to hold the door shut, so that the killer can’t reach them. 

The killer bangs against the door over and over and over. He’s strong, and as the victims out on the icy rooftop are all in pain from their attacks and the running up and down mall floors, he quickly wins. The door bursts open, and immediately, being on the roof starts feeling like the worst idea in the world. 

The Hunter lunges towards Noah, his hunting knife braced firmly in his hand. It’s clear that the killer aims to give Noah an identical injury to Martin, but as both perpetrator and victim slip as they move on the icy roof, the Hunter’s knife only shallowly cuts across Noah’s stomach. They both fall, and while the Hunter recovers quickly, Noah lands on his back with a hard thud. 

The skin on his hands burn on the ice as he pushes himself up, gasping for air, lungs shocked by the cold, and before the Hunter can do more damage, Noah makes his way over to the others, where they’ve grouped together carefully a small way away from the killer on the corner of the roof.

It feels good to have distance, that is, until the Hunter puts his knife away, and wields his bow instead. He pulls an arrow from his quiver. The victims try to move cautiously on the ice and the freshly fallen snow, but Rune isn’t able to dodge the arrow that whips through the air at them. It half lodges itself in the side of Rune’s bicep, before ultimately dislodging itself and flying off the roof.

The impact and the quick movement of Rune reaching up to apply pressure on his fresh wound causes him to slip and fall to the ground. “We need to go back inside.” He begs, and all of the victims agree that they’ve ended up in the worst place, despite it having felt like their only option. As the killer pulls out another arrow, the task of returning inside of the mall is easier said than done. 

Wind blows harshly, snow falls heavily, and they all stand, shivering, hurting, some crying. Only as Calista almost slips, does Duckie get an idea. Despite his horrific condition, he rushes towards the killer. “Duk!” Rune screams, inhaling a cold mouthful of air, but Duckie doesn’t stop. He uses the slippery ground to his advantage, and he builds up momentum by sliding towards the Hunter. He knows he’s too weak to apply his own force.

His body slams against the Hunter’s. The killer is sent backwards, to the edge of the roof. Duckie falls to the ground and loses consciousness upon impact; the entire group on the other side of the small section of roof waits with bated breath. The Hunter slips on the ice and the snow as he tries to regain his footing, but his attempt is unsuccessful. He falls from the roof of the mall, down into inches of freshly fallen snow - but not before he releases his arrow. 

The arrow, like the last, whips through the air. Those at risk of getting hit shuffle away, slipping back towards the edge of roof diagonal to the edge the Hunter fell from. With extreme force, the arrow hits Calista square in the chest. Everyone is silent in shock. Calista takes a step back, already bloody hands coming up to the wound, getting wetter with more of her own blood. She looks up from the arrow, tears silently sliding down her flushed cheeks, and then she begins to fall back. 

Rune and Martin, standing either side of her, both reach out to catch her, to stop her from falling down. They both manage to catch a hand in time, but as Calista’s hands are so slippery, their own wet, too, from their own blood, their grip is quickly lost. Rune reaches out again, he catches the tip of her fingers as her body begins to go down, but again, she slips out of his grip. Noah reaches out for Rune, pulling him back before he can fall, too, and Calista is gone.

A loud crack sounds from down below; the sound of Calista’s body landing on the icy surface behind the mall. 

Nobody can move, but eventually, they do. They help carry Duckie’s unconscious body back into the warmth, and while they make their way down to the ground floor, where the police finally break through the snow covering the doors, they still can’t find the words.

plot drop 012 features fifteen of our muses encountering the jack-o-lantern killer, the ghost, the skeleton + the hunter. 

eisa sanders is left with severe bruising, cuts all over her body and substantial blood loss.

ho duk-soo is left with severe bruising, broken ribs, a broken arm, cuts over his body and a head injury.

jamison ‘jamie’ burr is left with substantial bruising and a cut on his face.

juniper zhao is left with severe bruising.

junko jacobsen is left with severe bruising.

marina davies is left with two stab wounds in the abdomen and severe bleeding. 

martin montgomery is left with a deep cut, a stab wound in the abdomen and substantial blood loss.

michael webb is left with cuts all over his body, severe bruising, a broken rib, a large gash across the side and severe blood loss. 

noah cohen is left with a cut on his stomach, broken skin on his hands, mild bruising and severe chest pain.

november cain is left with severe bruising, cuts all over their body and substantial blood loss.

romulus ‘romy’ davies is left with a stab wound in the back, mild bruising and severe blood loss.

rune lancaster is left with severe bruising, cuts all over his body, a deep gash on his bicep and severe blood loss.

samantha webb is left with severe bruising and a cut on her chest.

veronica velasco is left with severe bruising, a cut on the head, a broken leg, a large gash on her leg from her bone breaking through and severe blood loss.

calista tjhoea is left with cuts all over her body, a head injury, severe blood loss and an arrow through the chest - which is fatal.

[bongsavior]

also just so you know when i die spiritually i am killing you and stabbing you and chaining you to the pillory and taking your appendages off one by one and feeding them to Cerberus hope this helps!

[captain-krow-drozdov]

Danny Is An Alternate Version Of Ra's Al Ghul And Flash Already Called Dibs On Adopting Him

Danny In All His Sleep Deprived Slightly Scuffed Up From A Fight Glory Is On His Way To Clockworks Tower To Hopefully Get A Nap And Maybe Some Homework Done When A Natural Portal Opens Up In Front Of Him And Proceeds To Unceremoniously Drop Him In The DC Verse Just Outside Of Central City Before Promptly Closing Leaving A Tired Danny Behind In A Run Down Abandoned Parking Lot.

It's Times Like This When Danny Regrets Putting Off Learning How To Make His Own Portals, Cause Now He Is Very Much Stuck For The Foreseeable Future And He Has No Idea Where Or When He Is. Luckily For Him However Central City Isn't Too Far Away, Unlucky For Him However Is That Once In The City He Realizes This Isn't His Dimension. He's Pretty Sure He'd Remember Something Called The Justice League.

So What Do You Do When Supernatural Bullshit Fails You? You Fall Back On Your Mad Scientist Roots And You Make A Portal Gun. So That's Exactly What Danny Plans To Do.

Unfortunately Staying Alive And Building Questionably Safe Portal Technology Requires Money And Supplies, So He Ends Up Wandering From City To City Doing Odd Jobs/Fixing Up Busted Tech For Cash Or Unwanted Electronics For His "Operation: Get Home" Needs. This Obviously Ends In A Few Superhero Encounter Shenanigans.

Though He Always Ends Up Back Near Central City, Both On The Off Chance The Natural Portal Will Open Up Again And Because Out Of All The Superheroes That Apparently Exist In This Universe The Speedsters Are His Favorite (Red Robin Is Solidly His Second Favorite Ever Since The Gotham Vigilante Gave Him A Large Coffee Filled With Enough Caffeine To Kill A Man).

Unbeknownst To Danny However Is That Every Hero/Vigilante He Has Encountered Has Come To At Least One Of The Following Conclusions; 1. Run Away Meta Who Is In Desperate Need Of A Good Meal/Adoption Bait. 2. Possibly Red Robin/Tim Drake Clone 3. A Good Kid But Could Possibly Be A Future Rouge If Left Unsupervised. 4. Did Bats Get A New Kid And Why Is He Here?

All Flash Knows Is That He Saw The Kid First And Therefore Has Dibs. Suck It Bruce.

Fast-forward A Few Months And Danny Gets Hurt During A Rogue Attack While Trying To Help Some Civilians Get To Safety (Old Hero Habits Die Hard (Ha Die Hard) And All That Jazz) And He Nopes Out Once Everyone Is Safe And When The Paramedics Are Busy With Other People Unaware He Left A Blood Sample Behind.

One DNA Test Brought To You By Paranoid Bat Concerns Of A Possible Red Robin Clone Later And They Find Out That Dannys DNA Matches One Ra's Al Ghul.

They Now Think Danny Is An Escaped Ra's Al Ghul Clone.

Memes For The Vibes:

[a-hollow-forest]

'weeding out the fakers' just gives people an excuse to be openly sadistic towards disabled people while reaping the social benefits of pretending to help us - to appear as shining champions of our defence - and you cannot change my mind

[sarasade]

One of the most generally useful things to come out of Hbomberguy's plagiarism video and Todd in the Shadows' similar video on misinformation is how they bring transparency to the internet phenomenon of "I made up a guy to get mad at".

Seriously, I've seen people make up a lot of stupid shit on the internet over the years and it's often just a manipulative attempt to paint a group of marginalized people in a bad light.

That's the TL;DR version of this post. 

ANYWAY here is the long version

Those videos are mostly about James Somerton's plagiarism of other queer people's work. However I'd like to talk about that 20-30% of Somerton's original writing- and oh boy. It's mostly about complaining about White Straight Women and misgendering well-known trans creators such as Rebecca Sugar and calling Becky Albertalli a straight woman while it's pretty common knowledge that she was forced to out herself as bi because she received so much harassment over "being a cishet woman who appropriates LGBT+ stories".

One thing that irks me especially is how in his Killing Stalking and Gay Shipping videos Somerton brings up how straight women/ teen girl shippers exploit gay men for their personal sexual fantasies. This gets brought up several times in his videos.

Being all up and arms about Somerton being a "White Cis Gay Who Hates Women and Queer People tm" is not that useful because the kind of rhetoric he's using is extremely common in fandom and LGBT+ spaces on Tumblr, TikTok and Twitter. We really don't need to bring Somerton's identity to this since he is in no way an unique example.

It's hypocritical to make this about an individual person when I've seen A TON of posts, tweets and videos where queer people talk about these Sinister Straight Women who are supposedly out there fetishizing and exploiting queer men. It's pretty clear to me that this is just an excuse to shit on women and queer people for having any sexual interests. At worst these comments are spreading misinformation about BL, a form of media that has been excessively studied by both Asian feminists and Asian queer women.

This all sounds really familiar and I think it's good that people are calling it out as what it is: misogyny and transphobia. I'd also point out the potentially racist motives behind being this hypervigilant about Asian media.

People can absolutely be misogynist regardless of gender or orientation. I really don't know why we need to create some kind of made up enemy to get mad at. I actually think it's almost sinister how "anti-fujoshi" people call Slash shippers and fujoshi misogynists or claim that they have internalised misogyny while being dismissive about women's interests and creative pursuits under Japanese obscenity laws, China's censorship, book bans in American schools and various other disadvances that are part of being a queer and/or female creator.

I think we shouldn't be naive about the bad faith actors who want to turn queer people against each other. For example Fujoshi.info mentions anti-gender (TERF, GC etc) movement using this kind of rhetoric as well.

Anyway if you want to read more:

- about the false info around BL fandom fujoshi.info

-There is the scholar Thomas Baudinette who studies gay media in Japan. Here is a podcast with him and the scholar Khursten Santos

-James Welker is a BL scholar as well. Here is a podcast interview about the new international BL article collection he edited.

-I've already talked about this Youtube channel by KrisPNatz and his great Killing Stalking video that actually engages with the themes of the manhwa

- There is also HR Coleman's thesis DO NOT FEED THE FETISHIZERS: BOYS LOVE FANS RESISTANCE AND CHALLENGE OF PERCEIVED REPUTATION where she interviews 36 BL fans and actually breaks down why fetishization has become such a huge talking point in the fandom discourse. Spoilers, it's mostly about young queer people and women being worried that they will get judged and pathologized for their interest in anything sexual.

-Great podcast about Danmei and censorship with Liang Ge

[demapatto-art]

you're next

[spasibogospodi]

i'm so normal about this shot

[howlsnteeth]

and are you really okay? are you really okay?

[velvetvexations]

you’ll see a trans boy be like “i dont personally have the power to oppress you” and then later the same day 3 of their little trans boy friends will start calling you out for making the first trans boy cry so hard he almost died (by disagreeing with him) and then all the cis women in the space will instantly side with the fragile little boys against the scary big [t-slur] who uses intimidating words like “transmisogyny” and thats how the whisper network against you starts, leading to far reaching professional and social consequences that never leave you

This didn’t happen.

Not this way, at least. All marginalized people are at all times at risk of being canceled unfairly. Their marginalization tends to play a major part in that, obviously. Trans women get hit with it a lot and that fucking sucks, and some transmascs are in TERF-y circles and can theoretically use that against transfems should they feel the need to.

This that I’m quoting, however, is a fantasy. It’s a page from a dream journal. People are giddily imagining things like this happening because they live in a world where trans women are feared and have their reputations ruined by lies, and they want to exploit that for their own benefit. The best way of doing this is putting themselves above other trans people, because cis people don’t give enough of a fuck to care or get involved with these bullshit arguments, but if you whine about other marganalized people they will actually be affected by it and forced into the conversation you created out of thin air. It’s not so much a victimization complex as it is a death cult fascination with the misery of transfemininity identical to the TERF obsession with fymyl suffering, defining ‘trans woman’ as 'the thing that feels pain always and forever.’

It’s disgusting and I can’t imagine identifying with such a sniveling and pathetic vision of what being a trans woman is like. It’s so undignified it makes my skin crawl. It’s embarrassing. There’s nothing in this crying little effigy covered in pins and needles I can relate to. I can’t tell if these people need more self-esteem or less. I’m so fucking tired of this wounded gazelle shit.

But for the TRF, transfemininity is all about the abuse. Just look at the beyond absurd assertion, made over and over again, that trans women are maliciously called the t-slur by other trans people. That’s just. No? No. But in claiming that the t-slur can only ever refer to trans women, and that transfeminine suffering takes priority above all else because everyone forever at all times hates trans women more than anyone else, it again becomes necessary to construct this false vision of intercommunity dynamics where “scary big t-slur” is a stereotype that exists within the community in the first place, and which trans men are constantly using against trans women.

It’s just so blatantly selfish for one to act like a transfeminist when all one does every single day is bitch about other trans people. We’re all about to get fucked harder than ever and there are people who profess to sincerely believe they’re fighting the revolution by making up lies about their siblings. I’m easily triggered by transphobia outside of the community and yet even I manage to engage with actual transphobes and make them considerably less transphobic, yet people who don’t even know enough about what TERFs believe to understand they hate men too will fritter the day away on how they could theoretically be canceled if they did something bad ,and wouldn’t that be the worst thing ever? Oh, what if I broke up with someone and our mutual friends believed I was the jerk, because that’s a situation that exclusively happens to poor helpwess twans women and the mere suggestion I could possibly be a jerk in the first place is unthinkable? Hate to keep saying this, but trans women are being actually murdered and this obsessive fixation on “social murder” within the trans community exists purely to spice things up with a feeling of danger because the spaces we’ve managed to carve out for ourselves are otherwise a little too safe and it feels more authentic to the Laura Palmer Ultimate Victim narrative. Massively popular transfems with over ten thousand followers will happily sic them on people for the most upsettingly asinine reasons and then cry-type about how they’re the underdogs in every possible social situation.

But most obnoxious of all is the implication here that, because this can only happen to trans women, gossip and slander does not happen to other trans people, or other marginalized people in general.

That’s fucked, considering how much this discourse has attacked specific targets. It’s most maddening to see that “the coiner of the word transandrophobia has dykebreaking+detransitioning-of-transfems kink” has evolved to “most people who believe in transandrophobia have those kinks” because I constantly see TERFs making huge compilations of transfem blogs engaging in cis dykebreaking kink from the dom perspective. Just transfem dom blog after transfem dom blog enthusiastically into cis dykebreaking, which TERFs use to paint us in a way that fits their narrative.

Literally the only example they can ever give of a transandrophobia-connected person* being a dom for dykebreaking with transfem subs is someone who was being paid by a transfem. Detrans kink is overwhelmingly non-transfems, but almost exclusively as subs to either transfems or cis men, and those transfems aren’t getting paid for it, they actually are just in it for the love of the game. There’s nothing wrong with that, but people want to act like there is when it’s anyone else, and that’s not only weird but also setting up a bear trap to step in later.

Which gets to the point that, hey, wow, I’ve noticed a lot of cis women in particular who self-identify as TME are super into anti-shipping. You cannot possibly imagine you’re safe for trans women if your big issue with trans men articulating their oppression is “they masturbate evilly.” Popular transfem blogs will talk at length about how you shouldn’t judge transfems for their kinks but cis women are so eager to kinkshame transmascs that they not only make shit up out of thin air, but specifically copy and paste kinks almost entirely made up of transfems onto transmascs. Someday very soon a TERF is going to show them it’s much more convenient to be a general transphobe and not make special exceptions for the ones that use the same pronouns as you. They’re going to show your anti-ship cis lesbian friend one of those transfem dykebreaking blog compilations and she’ll take Trans Rights Are Human Rights out of her bio within the hour.

Like, even if you didn’t care about being monstrously inhumane to others, all of this is so against transfem self-interests in the long run, but people who consider themselves the most transfeminist transfeminists there are, of a radical nature, one might say, care more about notes than helping anyone, least of all the transfems they’re feeding into a grinder of paranoia and isolation. Especially the isolation.

It’s a little hard to take it seriously when I get accused of calling all trans women groomers for thinking it’s bad when people talk about “curing” other trans women’s “comphet,” how “TMEs” are obligated to bottom for them to compensate for transmisogyny, and writing long treatises on why it’s one’s moral responsibility to throw forcefem kink at random men because they may like it. Like, am I saying trans women are groomers, or am I saying some people use being members of a marginalized community to be kinna gross? People somehow find it in them to be angry at gay men who cross boundaries in spite of the messaging that they’re all sex abusers for the past two hundred years. Especially since 90% of the concern is for other trans women.Like, sorry, but I care enough about trans women that I’m going to say something if I think you’re putting them in a bad situation, and someone being a trans woman doesn’t make them immune to that. But oh, it does if you assume that this is all just common sense transfeminism, and I am in fact making this accusation of most trans women instead of an extremely niche group.

Never mind that in the screencap people use to accuse me of calling trans women “rapists” I was saying something a self-identified TME said was coercive, and whose identity as a Not a Trans Woman I explicitly noted.** Never mind that I’m the not the one telling people to name their blogs after the original transbian separatist group that famously fell apart after resulting in heavy sexual abuse. Never mind that I have said over and over again that TRFs act no more entitled to people’s bodies than lesbian TERFs who treat people they perceive as women the same way.

But I’m supposed to believe that those cis anti-shippers who post things like “every time someone says kinks are fine they’re just protecting predators in the LGBT community” is a great ally and I’m a traitor because they hate men and I don’t?

Sorry, no, not a traitor. A “pickme begging to be beaten to death with hammers.” Who’s probably not even actually a trans woman. Great transfeminism, yall. You’re really fighting transmisogyny.

It’s especially galling now that TRFs have taken to calling transandrophobia “reactionary,” the most bullshit possible way to call a group that includes a huge number of PoC, who they constantly accuse of tokenization, a pack of Nazis. What is transandrophobia reacting to? Bigotry? Golly gee, I guess so! Or maybe it’s “reacting” to transmisogyny as part of the completely absurd idea that trasnmascs steal everything from transfems. Like, yeah, sure girliepop, and we stole misogyny from cis women, right? Sorry you failed to not sound exactly like a TERF yet again but maybe try again tomorrow and you’ll finally earn not being called a radfem.

But isn’t it sooooo mean of me to compare a small amount of trans women to radfems? Like their oppressors? Well, first of all, they regularly refer to Jewish people as Nazis, discourse aside that they do that is simply a true fact which shows they indeed think it’s possible to justify comparisons like that, although in their case it’s just because it feels like getting off a sick burn and rhetorical W to go “ah, but what if this Jewish person…was a Nazi? Checkmate, Zionists.”

Secondly, for as much as TRFs want to claim TERFs only hate them, that’s simply not true and I have conclusively proven this with basic use of Tumblr’s search function and the tag “radblr.” Twice. If you believe they love transmascs and only want what’s best for them, congratulations dipshit, you fell for their propaganda so hard I’m surprised they haven’t managed to convince you you’re not a woman. Or is it only an obvious lie when it’s about you?

Most annoyingly, just on a personal level, is the way TRFs get pissed off at non-transfem feminine AMAB people for daring to exist. The idea that femboy is a slur for trans women would be laughable if it weren’t grotesque in it’s ignorance. The things I’ve read people say about how transmisogynistic it is for an anime character to be a crossdressing man instead of a trans woman are just infuriatingly racist. Not everything is about you and it’s not actually a big deal if people talk about others once in blue moon.

The constant posts about how non-transfems are evil for not making more transfem headcanons, or for headcanoning the TRF’s favorite canonically male character wrong, are particularly childish. I can’t even go into MY favorite blorbo’s tag without seeing people call transmasc headcanons of him inferior literary analysis completely without irony, and every single time they shit like this, they do it while making up the most convoluted and nonsensical explanations for why the character can only be transfem instead, as though the hostility is defensiveness born out of their particular blorbo requiring a lot of creativity to headcanon that way, necessitating going to war to prove they can’t really be a man to assert it as The One Truth. Then they’ll complain until the fucking heat death of the universe about how everyone loves transmasc headcanons because of transmisogyny.

It’s the same unbearable on-sight hostility as when a TERF sees a child on the subway and goes home to type up a novel of a post on how he had the eyes of a future wife-beater, and it’s so irritating to see it spread from one corner to another. Literally, TRFs say that trans men will always turn on trans women and eventually detransition to wield their wymbnly power against us, and I’m expected to not see that as having severe hang-ups about people born into what they want to transition into and have denied to them by society’s transphobia?

What about the fact that they constantly mock AFAB trans people in ways specifically targeting that trait, calling non-binary people “theyfabs,” joking it’s easy to misgender trans men when they have large breasts, and reduce transmasc stereotypes to feminine “soft bois?” Like, yeah, okay, you’re not projecting any gaping insecurities you may have about assigned sex and gender roles when you say transmasc music is ukuleles and transfem music is heavy metal, next tell me about how transmascs all enjoy tea parties and transfems all go to football games.

But it’s not even mostly trans women who keep this shit alive in the first place. A higher percentage of total trans women on this site are into this framework, but the total number of non-transfem trans people and cis women so outweighs them in the first place that it cancels that out. Like, if x is higher than y, and x% of trans women on Tumblr agree but only y% of “TME” people do, that’s still a movement mostly consisting of “TME” people. The full separatist angle would very quickly reveal how little air it has to burn if trans women truly only had themselves to watch out for each other. Unfortunately, self-identified TMEs are much more likely to get TERFier rather than simply less TRF-y when the spell breaks and they realize how fucked up this shit is, while the people who’ve been batted at continue to exercise the patience of a saint and continue to fight for trans women anyway.

And that! Is what hurts! The most! The fact that people do not care about transmascs and in particular the ones who believe in transandrophobia are constantly tripping over themselves to defend and help trans women as much as they possibly can. I wish people saw that. I wish that mattered. It’s like watching a black hole suck up an endless font of goodwill and love. And then going “lol reactionary transandrobros hate trans women.”

That’s it, though, the great irony of it all is that if it were true, it’d never have become popular in the first place. It’s kept aloft by self-identified TMEs who are well-meaning if not especially good at critical thinking, except for the the contingent that are convinced trans men are all misogynistic because they personally are, or even outright seem to get gender euphoria from the idea they have male privilege. But for whatever reason, if “TME” folks didn’t care? The people making up elaborate tales of their potential (social) murder would have to find some other way to get attention.

I suggest throwing on a big red nose and joining a circus.

*and I specify “transandrophobia-connected” but you’d have a hard time rustling up transmasc doms in general from those scenes

**also, despite it being something I saw with my own eyes, I notably did not even feel it hit the level of needing to directly name someone as being who I was basing my assessment of sexual coercive behavior on as being sexually coercive, because I think it's much more a prevalent attitude of pressure in sexual contexts than individual behavior

[sensitiveheartless]

(the rest is under the cut!)

[dumblemonchickenwing]

vent comic.

real loved ones dont act like this.

[basilpaste]

Chapter III: The Thorn

"This one yearns for connections they feel they don't deserve. Even when shown compassion, they hid themself away. They will make for a cautious heart."

ive been thinking about a slay the princess au. i wanted loop to be the witch. which also meant that loop had to be the thorn. and then i fixated on this so hard i finished it in three hours.

[transphilza]

the only thing i can say is to just be fucking kind and patient with others during all of this. it’s an intense subject that makes people heated for good reason but can we just not completely mercilessly rip into each other while we’re all just trying to process the same information

[worldsewage]

I am not tagging this as My Art . This is between me and god. I promise I’ll post some actual art soon.