#and the classic ‘the call is coming from inside the house’ urban legend

[bereft-of-frogs]

Black Christmas is truly my favorite slasher and favorite Christmas-horror (thought Anna and the Apocalypse is also really great), but 1) literally my nightmare 2) it always kind of weirds me out that this predates both the Weepy Voice Killer’s 911 calls and the EARONS/Golden State Killer’s calls and YET

[fishrpg]

2024-10-27: Area 27 (Regency Sweets)

Among the many vices that cattlemen and timber workers is of course a close affiliation with the women of the evening who ply the world's oldest profession. The Regency Sweets is the town's fancy house, which indicates a brothel with at least some standards. Those standards aren't necessarily high, but they are there.

The building is a two-story house with a steep gabled roof enclosing an attic. Slate-gray wooden tiles on the side give the building the appearance of a stone keep from a distance, and the front door is emblazoned with a fictional shield depicting a stylized lion. Everyone who isn't an employee must ring the doorbell in order to gain access to the house, which is a literal bell that is rung by twisting a lever attached to the door.

Immediately inside is a small foyer where deals, expectations, and client selection is hashed out. One door leads to the kitchen and small walk-in pantry used by the girls, while another leads to a small hallway for the bedrooms on the first floor. A staircase on the west wall heads up to the second floor, stopping in front of a locked door leading to the attic.

On the second floor, there are two large bedrooms that each house girls living communally in a single room stacked with bunk beds. The rest of the second floor is a collection of rooms that are little more than a closet with a bed for "hired activities." No one is in these small rooms unless money is changing hands.

Speaking of money... The town officially bans activities where money is exchanged for these kinds of services, even out here in the Indian Acre. However, Regency Sweets gets around that issue in a creative way. They sell short-time candles that burn for 5-7 minutes*. Officially, the business is just a reseller of candles that happens to staff a bunch of attractive and enthusiastic girls with varying degrees of adherence to traditional moral values. Everything that comes after the purchase of candles is technically free so the business never actually sold such favors as money.

This particular business scheme was created by madam of the house, Vera Potts, who is also the de facto owner of the building (though the property is officially titled in the name of one of Vera's male cousins in case political opinions shift regarding women being able to own property). Vera is in her early 20s, though she is constantly bruised and sore from a joint hypermobility condition (which would be called classical Ehlers-Danlos syndrome today, but likely known only as delicate joints or something similar on the frontier). She's exceptionally well-read and also unnervingly perceptive of client's hidden intentions. Vera also keeps a list of "influential" clients who she can threaten to name in order to keep the local government and business environment operating in her favor.

*The story of the brothel candle is likely more an urban legend than an actual historical occurrence, but I'm including it because it allows for potentially interesting gameplay situations regarding obtaining and bargaining for candles.

[mediamixs]

5 urban legends that are still valid and could be real

Urban legends have long captivated the imaginations of people across the United States, weaving tales of the mysterious, the macabre, and the inexplicable. While countless urban legends exist, here are five of the most enduring and popular ones:

The Hookman: Originating in the mid-20th century, this legend tells the story of a young couple parked in a secluded area when they hear a radio broadcast warning of a mental patient who has escaped, often described as having a hook for a hand. As they become increasingly frightened, they hear scratching noises outside the car. Upon returning home, they discover a hook dangling from the car door handle, implying the escaped patient was nearby. This cautionary tale serves as a warning against teenage promiscuity and the dangers of secluded lovers' lanes.

Bloody Mary: A classic tale of supernatural terror, Bloody Mary is said to be a vengeful spirit who can be summoned by chanting her name three times in front of a mirror in a darkened room. Legend has it that upon being summoned, Bloody Mary appears in the mirror, often covered in blood and seeking retribution against those who dared to call her forth. The origins of this legend vary, with some attributing it to the historical figure Mary I of England, also known as Bloody Mary.

The Vanishing Hitchhiker: This tale revolves around a Good Samaritan who picks up a hitchhiker on a desolate road, only for the hitchhiker to inexplicably vanish from the car during the journey. In some versions, the driver learns that the hitchhiker was a ghost who died tragically on that road years earlier. The legend serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of picking up strangers and the uncertainties of the road.

The Babysitter and the Man Upstairs: This chilling legend tells the story of a babysitter who receives unsettling phone calls throughout the night, each time from a mysterious voice asking if she has checked on the children. Eventually, she contacts the police, who trace the calls and inform her that they are coming from inside the house. Rushing upstairs, she discovers the children safe but the menacing caller hiding in the shadows. This tale plays on fears of home invasion and the vulnerability of those entrusted with caring for children.

The Slender Man: A more contemporary legend, Slender Man originated in internet forums and creepypasta stories before gaining widespread popularity. Described as a tall, thin figure with a featureless face and elongated limbs, Slender Man is said to stalk and abduct children, often leaving behind disturbing evidence of his presence. The legend has inspired video games, films, and even real-life incidents attributed to individuals influenced by the mythos.

While these urban legends may vary in their specifics and origins, they all share a common thread of tapping into primal fears and serving as cautionary tales about the dangers lurking in the darkness, whether real or imagined.

[samwisethewitch]

The Black-Eyed Kids as a Modern Fairy Legend

Read on my website, if you want.

When talking to people who don't believe in the Good People, one argument I hear a lot is "well if they were real, there would be modern stories about them!" On one hand, there are very much modern stories explicitly about the Good People in countries like Ireland. But I personally suspect that a lot of modern American "cryptid" and "alien abduction" legends may actually be stories of Fairy.

Think about it. Human society has changed so much in the last 300 years -- it would make sense for the Good People to have changed as well. In medieval stories, They typically have a society and level of technology that is similar to humans. It would make sense, then, that modern stories about the Good People would deal less with knights and ballrooms and more with modern themes.

(If you aren't familiar with the Good People, and if you're wondering why I call them that instead of using the f-word, check out my previous posts about basic rules for interacting with them and busting some common misconceptions.)

One of my favorite example of a modern urban legend with strong parallels to classic Fairy stories is the story of the Black-Eyed Children or Black-Eyed Kids. This is a modern American legend about paranormal creatures that look like young children, and it has surprising similarities to classic stories of visits from the Good People.

I first learned about the Black-Eyed Kids (or BEK, as it's sometimes written online) from the Astonishing Legends podcast, but most of my information about them for this post came from the book The Chilling, True Terror of the Black-Eyed Kids by G. Michael Vasey. (This may not be the best book on the subject, but it's the one I had access to for free.) In that book, Vasey points out that most BEK stories follow a very similar formula. That formula is:

The "victim" is at home late at night, either alone or with others in the house, when there is a knock at the door. When the victim opens the door, they see two (or sometimes more) children, usually between the ages of 6 and 16. Seeing these children triggers a fear response, and some people report feeling their heart pound and/or wanting to run away. The children quietly but insistently ask to come inside. Their reason for needing to come inside changes, but a one I've personally heard several times is that they need to use the phone.

It's usually at this point in the story that the victim looks at the children's eyes and sees that they're solid black, with no whites or irises. This usually makes the victim feel even more freaked out, and they slam the door in the kids' faces and wait for them to leave.

In some versions of the story, the kids seem to be incorporeal -- for example, they don't leave footprints and don't seem to feel heat or cold. They sometimes seem to have the ability to control or compel their victims, and people report finding it difficult to look away from them. Sometimes they're only seen and heard by the person who opens the door to them, even if other people are in the room. Sometimes electricity flickers on and off around them, and electronics might stop working. There are also stories of black-eyed adults who accompany the children or act on their own, but these are less common.

Encounters with the Black-Eyed Kids seem to be mostly a US thing, but there have been a few reported sightings in other places. The first story of the BEK was written by Texas reporter Brian Bethel in 1998. There are stories of black-eyed creatures that are much older, but the modern BEK formula doesn't appear until Bethel's story.

I want to compare the BEK formula to a story of the Good People from England. The Green Children of Woolpit were a young boy and girl who appeared in the village of Woolpit in the mid 12th century. Their skin was green, and they spoke a strange language. One of the village families took the children in, but they refused to eat anything except fava beans. They eventually learned to eat other foods and their skin lost its green color. The children were baptized, and the boy became sick and died.

There are some obvious parallels between the Green Children and the Black-Eyed Kids. In both stories, two children appear alone, without an adult. Both sets of children have a physical feature that is an unusual color, marking them as inhuman. Both sets of children speak strangely -- the Green Children spoke a strange language, and Black-Eyed Kids are described as speaking in a very monotone voice and using odd words.

There are also obvious differences. The Green Children weren't malicious, and they wandered into our world accidentally. The Black-Eyed Kids seem to have sinister intentions. There's no account of the Green Children needing permission to enter a building. And, as far as I'm aware, there are no accounts of Black-Eyed Kids becoming sick or dying (but then again, I don't think anyone has tried to baptize them).

Keep in mind that the Green Children of Woolpit are only one of many stories of the Good People, and that Fairy is a diverse and complex world filled with many different types of beings. Some of the other details of BEK stories can be explained by looking to other folklore.

First, let's look at the inherently sinister nature of these beings and the fear they inspire in humans. As I've said in previous posts, not all of the Good People are good to humans. There are many, many stories of them preying on us, and some types of Good People seem to be especially anti-human. (Unseelie Court, anyone?) It's possible that the BEK are a particularly predatory type of Good People.

The need for permission to enter also fits with established folklore. While it's not universal, there are stories of Good People who needed to be invited in before they could enter. This trope also shows up in stories of other otherwordly creatures, like vampires.

The black eyes also fit the old lore. While green and red are the most common colors to see on the Good People, especially in the British Isles, black is also sometimes associated with them. Black Dogs are a famous example, and the Cat Sidhe are also said to have black fur. In their book Fairies: A Guide to the Celtic Fair Folk, Morgan Daimler says that, "Black is generally speaking an ill-omened color. To see a fairy wearing black was an omen of death, although not necessarily for the person seeing it."

Although some of the Good People can look fully human, their human forms often have a single weird or disturbing trait that gives them away. Strange eye colors are a common giveaway. Black eyes might imply that these beings are especially dangerous or deadly.

(A lot of folks, including Vasey, theorize that the black eyes mean these beings are demonic in nature. However, Black-Eyed Kid stories are not consistent with demon lore in any religion I'm familiar with. I think this theory probably comes from people with a strict Christian worldview making reaches to fit everything into that worldview.)

The effects the BEK reportedly have on their victims supports the theory that they are an especially dangerous/anti-human type of Good Person. People who see them report feeling drained, as if their energy was stolen. Some people even report dizzy spells and nosebleeds.

There are several types of Good People who feed on human life energy. The Scottish Baobhan Síth consume this energy by drinking blood or eating hearts. Goblins are sometimes described as draining the life of humans, as in Christina Rosetti's poem "Goblin Market." The Irish Leannán Sí (literally "Fairy lover") drain vitality from their human lovers until they die.

The Leannán Sí are especially interesting when compared to the Black-Eyed Kids. They take the form of beautiful women to lure in prey. It would make sense for a similar being to use the form of a child the same way.

Another interesting note is that most BEK stories take place between midnight and sunrise -- a time when the Good People are said to be especially active.

Obviously, there's no way to say if the BEK are real or just an early creepypasta. And even if they are real, there's no way for us to know who or what they are. But I always think it's interesting to find the threads of older folklore in modern urban legends.

What do you think? Are the Black-Eyed Kids a modern evolution of the Good People? Are they demons? Aliens? Extra-dimensional beings? Or just a fun, spooky story for the Internet age?

Thanks for reading! I am a queer, neurodivergent, chronically ill witch currently recovering from Long COVID. While I feel it is very important to make quality resources available for free, existing under capitalism means I do need money to survive. If you appreciate the work I do, please consider buying me a coffee, ordering a copy of my book, or booking a tarot reading.

[gabbysdawsons]

🦓 Rheya

also asked by @luucypevensie

Their favourite sweet treat: cherry coca cola

Their birth flower: chrysanthemum

Their favourite urban legend: she loves them all, every single one, but her absolute favourite is probably the call is coming from inside the house, or really any one about tormented babysitters.

Their favourite classical monster: werewolf

Their favourite YA novel: Aristotle and Dante Discover The Secrets Of The Universe by Benjamin Alire Saenez

The number one best-selling fiction book from the day they were born: Desperation by Stephen King (November 7th, 1996)

An irrational fear of theirs: she is terrified of spiders, she wholeheartedly believed that myth about how daddy longlegs are the most poisonous spider.

Their favourite dish: gilled cheese and tomato soup

Their favourite DCOM: camp rock

Their favourite mythical creature: nymphs!

[fairymadnessyeah]

BNHA Ship to Finish the Year

ShishiKoda (Shishida Jurota x Koda Koji)

Canon

Before anything, two important things.

Koda is non-binary, pronouns they/them. Also, Koda is selectively deaf.

They only talk with the people who are close to them, with animals, or if they absolutely need to.

I believe that there are a lot of types of heroes, there are daytime heroes, underground heroes, infiltration heroes, etc.

And one of those types, that is rather new, is the eco-hero. They are heroes who, apart from fighting against crime, they also fight for the planet and the animals.

Both Shishida and Koda are Eco-heroes.

I feel like they would start working on the same agency at first, being desk mates.

Koda is selectively deaf, so they communicate with sign language. But not everybody knows, so Shishida translates and gives out the number of a good ASL teacher.

It makes them grow closer, and that is how they start branching out towards the Eco-heroics.

They find an agency that works kind of like Greenpeace having mission out in the world to help with the environment.

They first start local, their first missions aren't even together. Koda is sent to a zoo protest, and Shishida to a stop a deforestation.

They do have to re-study some laws for this job though. UA might be a great school, but they can't teach you everything.

They study together, with Shishida making the coffee and Koda bringing some of the cakes their roommate Satou bakes.

Satou, who is very protective of his roommate and friend Koda, notices that something is going on. But when he asks about it, Koda shrugs it off with pink cheeks.

Shishida doesn't have any roommates, but he still hangs out with his friends from class B. I imagine one day, they drop by uninvited and interrupt one of their study hang out. 

Koda understands and leaves, but the class B boys can feel the sparks in the air.

They tease him non-stop about it, while Shishida tries to deny it.

"Somebody got a crush~," "No, I don't,"

"I bet you want to take them out to that new restaurant you were talking about," "As friends,"

"You should ask them out! They looked ready to pick up what you were giving," "I won't,"

"You are afraid they'll say no and then don't talk to you again, aren't you?" "Terrified,"

Shishida would ask Koda out, but they are so shy that he is afraid that if he does, the relationship they have been building up will crumble.

But that's okay, Shishida can wait.

They keep working and hanging out together, and then one day, they are put on a mission together. This mission takes place in the Amazon, on Brazil.

The two need to travel, and while they are there, Shishida asks Koda out.

They say yes, and when they go back to Japan, they make it official and become the significant other of one another.

I like thinking that Satou starts acting like a protective big brother to Koda and glares at Shishida when he comes to pick him up for dates.

Family

Koda is the only child of a single mother. She doesn't have a name yet, but I think she is a like a 50's mom.

She bakes cookies, she dances to the music of the radio, and leaves lipstick marks on your cheeks when she kisses you.

I also love the idea that no matter who you are, no matter what you are doing, you are going to get greeted with a bear hug by Koda's mom. 

Shishida was not ready. I also like the idea that Shishida has a bun on for the first meeting. He would look so dapper in one.

I also think he would use his strength as a good selling point. Oh, Miss Koda's earing fell under the dishwasher? No worries, Shishida will lift it with his bare hands and place it back where it was once she got it.

I have no ideas as to who Shishida's parents could be, but one thing is for sure, Koda wants to crawl under their bed and stay there until the night passes.

They are a mess and get anxious thinking about it. On the drive there, Koda's mind conjures situation after situation, and how bad and disastrously are all going to end up.

Of course, nothing like that happens.

Shishida's parents are nice and know sign language, so they can communicate no problem.

I don't think they would have kids, but I kind of seeing them moving from the big city and settling in a small village with a giant lot where they rescue animals.

They are some of the only heroes around the small town, along with a few others, and nothing much happens. 

But considering the hectic years they spent as heroes and as students, a nice, quiet town seems like a good option.

When Koda moved out of the apartment, Satou cries and hugs him, while saying that he'll miss them. It's a sad day, but they keep in contact.

Also, their house is so big that both classes come for reunions, and they are even able to bring their kids. 

They have a rehabilitation program, but some of the animals they rescued aren't able to go back to the wild, so they have a few rescued pets.

They have a fox, who ended up blind after getting caught in a trap. His name is Red, and it likes to scare their mailman by screaming at him. Have you ever heard a fox? It's crazy AF!

They also have an owl inside the house. It was hit by a moving car, and it damaged its wing, making it unable to fly. Its name is Big eyes, and sometimes it chills with Shishida in the library.

They also have a wild horse on the back. They called it Hone, in dedication to Honenuki because when the Hone smiles, which it does a lot, its smile looks like their ex-classmate.

Hone was rescued from a circus, and is now living a retirement on their home.

AU - Tarzan AU

So, you might read Tarzan AU, and think:

"Well, Shishida could make a good Tarzan. He is wild, hairy, curious, and kind of look likes bigfoot when he uses his quirk. It makes sense that he would be Tarzan,"

But you are wrong. This is a different Tarzan AU.

For once, it happens in the woods instead of the jungle. So our Tarzan is closer to civilization than the classic.

Koda was just a small three-year-old when, on a camping trip, their parents died. They were crossing a stream when the bridge broke, and they feel into the river. Their parents drown and died of hypothermia, but Koda somehow survived.

They were taken care of by the animals. Because, yes, they speak in this AU, but only Koda can understand them.

Koda lives like a cryptid, and becomes an urban legend of the woods. They are known as the creature-man. Many go into the woods to get a peak or a capture them on a picture.

The people know them to be a generous being. If you get lost in the woods, they will guide you back home. If you get hurt, you may find yourself healed by the next morning.

Shishida is new in town, recently graduated from college and has a psychology degree.

He doesn't believe in the existence of creature-man, and thinks it's just a tourist attraction. 

The rest of the town tries to convince him, but he is a stubborn one.

But one day, a couple of his friends invite him on a hike on the woods. They are hoping that with this trip, he might start believing in Creature-man.

The storm catches them by surprise. It comes out of nowhere, and it makes Shishida slip and roll down a hill. He hits his head on and blacks out, but when he wakes up, he is not alone.

Koda found him and started taking care of him. Shishida had a concussion and a broken arm, so Koda couldn't take him back out of the forest.

Shishida, now an absolute believer of Creature-man, takes them to his home, to re-introduce them to society.

He starts by cleaning them and dressing them, but it's not as easy as he believed it would be. Koda is afraid of everything, and knows nothing of the world.

Shishida doesn't tell the rest of the town about having their cryptid creature on his home. He knows that they will freak out and want to see him, and that could overwhelm Koda.

But one day, Koda freaks out, and runs back to the forest. The whole town finds out, and questions Shishida.

He explains that Koda, is not a creature, but a person who grew up in the woods and was not introduced into society.

The people decide to leave Koda alone, but Shishida feels a deep conection with them. He feels responsable for them, and doesn't want to see them hurt.

He visits them daily, and starts writing a psychology book on them.

Fanon Opinion

I can't see Koda having sex.

I just can't. Maybe it's their shy demeanour, their muteness or the way they look, but I can't see it.

I think I might headcanon them as asexual to much for me to picture him in sexual acts.

I think this is a cute couple, but it's very cracky.

There is no content for them. No pictures, nothing written, there isn't even a ship name.

I think that whoever requested these two, took somebody from class A and then somebody from class B that is not that known, and paired them together.

They have only one interaction, when they faced against each other on the A vs B battle. 

But, weirdly enough, they make sense together.

They are the personification of looks like they could kill you, but it's a cinnamon roll x looks like a cinnamon roll, and it's a cinnamon roll.

If there ever is a veterinarian x librarian AU, they would be perfect for it.

Like, Koda is super sweet and shy, and Shishida is a gentleman, who dresses in suits.

 I think they also make sense to me due to their quirks. 

Shishida looks like an animal when he is all big and hairy, and Koda can talk to animals.

It's a weird ship, however.

But it definitely deserves more love.

It's also not that impossible to happen. They are the same age, they go to the same school, they are in the same career, same side.

I know this is short, but there is nothing to go on with this couple.

It's a background character with an even less important character.

[desertdollranch]

October photo challenge, day 29: Retelling a scary story

This story is an old urban legend that goes by many names. It was collected in Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark by Alvin Schwartz. In that book, he calls it “The Girl Who Stood on a Grave”. My dolls are here to tell it to you. 

It happened many years ago, or maybe only a few years ago. A big group of friends had gathered for a Halloween costume party at Kelsey’s house. 

They were having a splendid time playing classic party games and comparing their beautiful costumes. 

When the fun had died down a bit, Heather and Kelsey began talking about the cemetery across from Kelsey’s house. Heather was saying that she’d be terrified to live by a cemetery, especially one with such old headstones. 

Rose overheard them and chimed in to the conversation, saying that she didn’t think it would be so scary to live near a cemetery. In fact, it might be kind of neat to admire the old headstones and learn about long-dead residents of the town.

Kelsey told her that this cemetery was different. The land that the cemetery was built on was cursed, and any body buried there wouldn’t be truly and entirely dead--they were still partly alive, just aware enough to know they were eternally trapped in a coffin deep in the ground, but dead enough that they didn’t need food or water or air. They’d never be able to rest, and that made them angry and agitated. All they wanted was to pull someone down with them, to share in their misery. And the longer the corpse was buried, the more desperate they were for company. It was best to stay far away from that cemetery, and leave the undead alone lest you become one of them. 

Rose laughed at that story. She couldn’t believe that Kelsey and Heather were foolish enough to be afraid of that cemetery. In fact, she’d prove it to them right now that it’s completely safe! 

Heather said that if Rose really was that brave, then she should to go into the cemetery and stand on a grave. “Take this knife,” Heather said, “and stick it in the ground on a grave so that we can know you really stood there. We’ll wait for you at the cemetery gates. You have fifteen minutes, and then we’ll come in and see if you’ve actually done it.”  

The cemetery was much larger inside the gates than Rose had expected. It was also very pretty, with tall trees and a view of the sun setting behind the hills. Most of the graves were recent, but a few of them were very old. 

She picked the grave of a girl who was the same age as Rose when she died. Rose stood on the grave for a few moments, reading the tombstone, and feeling just a little bit nervous. “There’s nothing to be frightened of,” she told herself. She quickly plunged the knife into the ground and turned to leave, laughing about how easy this was to accomplish.

But she couldn’t get away. Something was holding onto her and keeping her there! She tried again to move, but still she could not. 

“Something has grabbed me!” she screamed, and fell onto the ground. 

Kelsey and Heather heard Rose’s screams from far away. They were too afraid to follow the sound at first. They held back for a few minutes, gathering their courage, before finally entering the cemetery and looking for their friend. 

They found Rose, collapsed and sprawled across the grave, dead from fright.

Without realizing it, she had stabbed the knife right through her costume’s long skirt. It was only the knife that had held her there. 

And the girl in the ground beneath the grave was as silent as a stone. 

[viktorfm]

(MAXENCE DANET-FAUVEL, NONBINARY) - Have you seen VIKTOR SAMUELS? VIKTOR is in HIS/THEIR SENIOR year. The VISUAL ARTS MAJOR is 24 years old & is a CAPRICORN. People say HE/THEY are OBSERVANT, INGENIOUS, RETICENT and DEPENDENT. Rumors say they’re a member of KINCAID. I heard from the gossip blog that THEY'RE HAVING AN AFFAIR WITH THEIR THERAPIST. (JAMES. 21. EST. THEY/THEM.)

dont. look at me. i know. anyways if it wasnt obvs i abandoned cupid (n darrow) in order 2 bring the two ocs tht he ws inspired by n ws a combination of bt. theyre better as different ppl methinks.

DEATH, HEAVY GRIEF, OVERDOSE / DRUG ADDICTION, HOSPITALIZATION, HYPERSEXUALITY, RELIGION MENTIONS TW

aesthetic.

old tvs and their static, worn tapes, horror movie screams, spilled ink, a sculptor’s hands, clay-stained, chicken scratch handwriting, messy notes, messy hair, scoffs and eye-rolls, bruised knuckles, sore throats, funeral homes and a crying preacher, shattered ceramics, knife fights, high ledges, vertically-striped pants, red lights, the moon shrouded in clouds, cigarette butts, graveyards and half-empty wine bottles, sitting there for hours and talking to nothing, about nothing, a god complex, gold rings adorning both hands, barbwire baseball bats, having never played baseball in your life, deep eyebags and broken mirrors, a permanent chip on one’s shoulder, yearning, longing, wishing.

basics.

full name: viktor phillip samuels

nickname(s): icky vicky :/

b.o.d. - january 2nd, 1996

label(s): the black hole, the crepehanger, the impious, the opaque, the tempest, etc.

height: 6′1″

hometown: preaker, vermont

sexuality: pansexual uwu

pinterest

stats

favorite song: disorder, joy division / it’s getting faster, moving faster / now it’s getting out of hand / on the tenth floor, down the back stairs / it’s a no man’s land / lights are flashing, cars are crashing / getting frequent now / i’ve got the spirit, lose the feeling / let it out somehow

background.

born to mama and papa (preacher) samuels in preaker, vermont - fifteen minutes after his twin sister, tatiana samuels. years later, rosa samuels joined the gang.

was an awkward, quiet kid growing up, he didn’t interact well with others and preferred being left alone to dig up worms and draw on the walls of their childhood home. the only exception was his twin, really.

as he got older he grew out of this, but instead became like … sort of an asshole? maybe to compensate for years of childhood awkwardness. he’s the sort of person who will bite the hand that feeds him & developed into a full time nuisance by middle school, unlike tatiana who was much more subtle about her conniving manners.

always has been a fan of ‘darker’ materials. grim & creepy morbid shit. probably the biggest tim burton fan, ever since he was a kid … not a good look for a preacher’s son, but he never really felt ‘in’ with the rest of his family to begin with. classic black sheep syndrome.

drew disturbing pictures as a kid that probably prompted one or two or five phone calls home to assure everything was fine.

just really had a knack for art at a young age, from drawing to painting to playing with clay. it’s always been his thing and probably is the only thing he’s good at.

being twins with tatiana was hard. they were near opposite besides both being quite mean-spirited. tatiana handled being in public better, left a better image behind - but viktor had talent, more than she did. they loved each other deeply - y’know, those unbreakable twin bonds as cliche as it sounds - but found each other as competition for their parents’ attention. a rivalry for affection.

in high school is when viktor really started to act out. it started extreme, like losing his virginity in their church and vandalism around the neighborhoods. faked being possessed in the middle of sunday service & almost had an exorcism performed on him.

his only redeemable trait was like … just his sheer talent in the arts. was in a 3d art ap course and specialized in sculptures. he could pretty much create anything he wanted with enough dedication.

because he was the problem child, the one who deserved to be disciplined for all his antics, tatiana could sneak away and get away with whatever she wanted much easier. on the bright-side, for her, i guess.

not a very motivated person - wasn’t planning on going to college, much less going to yates but his parents literally wrote & sent his college application for him because they weren’t going to house a deadbeat but had too much heart to kick him out onto the streets. cool!

he’s actually pretty smart but he just doesn’t apply himself. has a minor in english because he didn’t care for an extra course-load, but he’s good at writing & analyzing literature. is going to use it to write and illustrate his own series of children books with a style similar to tim burton’s. not for the kids, but because he likes to leave a trail of terror in whatever he does.

has been experimenting with himself since high school but college is where he really had started to crack down on himself. was out as pansexual & nonbinary by his sophomore year of college just … not to his parents, who don’t really need to know.

if you asked him if he believed in twins having a psychic connection with each other - he’d tell you he wouldn’t know. it felt believable at times, but sometimes he had no idea what was going on inside of tatiana’as head. on the other hand - viktor had always felt oddly transparent to her, like she knew all of his moves before he did. the only person who could predict him accurately.

( tw death, grief, overdose / hospitalization beyond this point )

when tatiana disappeared, viktor knew something was up. it was a twist in his gut, pure instinct that something wasn’t right. and it wasn’t right - and when she was proclaimed missing, they couldn’t find her.

and when tatiana died - viktor knew. it felt wrong, something cut so severely in him he could pinpoint her death to the second. he didn’t know how, or why, but he knew it. knew it before anybody else had.

afterwards he went on a sort of bender. he’d begun to struggle with a mild drug addiction late senior year of high school / early college, but he was managing it up until this point.

his mental health had also sunk to an all-time low, when it’d never been great to begin with. (manic & depressive episodes. once fixated on a sculpting project for six months and then knocked it off the table and destroyed it as soon as he finished it for no apparent reason.)

tatiana’s body wasn’t found immediately, and when it was … viktor went off the rails. ended up overdosing & being hospitalized. spent six months in & out of psychiatric care after that.

came back to yates to finish his senior year because … for the reasons above, he hadn’t been able to complete it. just wants to get his credits and get out of here.

is still dealing with a lot of trauma & grief - causes him to spiral and be unpredictable in regards of his mental health. he stopped taking his medication, so. :/ some days are alright, other days are pretty bad.

personality & facts.

the human embodiment of a gremlin that was fed after midnight. a goblin, if you will. one of those cats with a narrow head and really big ears … that’s them!

a big horror & halloween enthusiast. loves the old campy horror movies & probably has an abundance of masks from different movies. dresses like a grimy millennial beetlejuice more than they should because they just … love those black & white vertical-striped pants.

can appreciate the ~urban legends~ at yates and likes to feed into the fear that surrounds them. is probably the cause of a few ‘anomalies’ and ‘paranormal sightings’ because they’re just … a jerk.

fashion alternates between e-boy (they would be tiktok famous if they were 17 & didn’t think that a majorly minor based app was weird.), millennial beetlejuice, and goth in a crop top & sweatpants. big fan of crop tops and a big fan of sweatpants.

they can be really fucking mean? petty, aggressive, a major instigator. will literally spit in your face for little to no reason, you could just look at them the wrong way. the kind of person who will stick their gum into someone else’s hair. other than that? they’re like … sort of okay. they’re not always mean, just a dick about 90% of the time lmao

like okay yeah they’ll call someone a stinky bitch for no reason except they feel like it and believes it. it’s fine, they’re fine, we’re fine.

despite the fact that they’re probably getting into a fight whenever, considers themself to be a lover and not a fighter but that’a primarily because they fuck a lot. uses it as a coping mechanism, like they’re this big fancy carnival show that’s like ‘come one, come all! fuck the dead girl’s twin brother!’ and it’s … a lot. might have a problem with hypsersexuality but they’re not fully aware of it.

the preacher’s whore son, basically :)

pansexual & nonbinary, switches between he & they pronouns often and without a pattern, but they have such a fragile grip on their identity that you could call them ‘dog-faced bitch’ and they’d turn around like. sup.

vastly impulsive … like i said, they destroy their own creations for the fun of it. spends all their money on useless shit, will cheat on someone because they feel like it & likes the thrill, screams into the night sky frequently like a cat in heat.

will also spend months creating useless shit for no reason too. spent six of them sculpting a hollowed out tree the size of them & then took a sledgehammer to it.

they’re very super dramatic. would play the organ at church when nobody was looking after them and service was about to start. would just churn out these super haunting, creepy melodies like they were phantom of the opera. would do the same exact thing at home on their keyboard with the pipe organ setting whenever they got grounded until their parents took it away hbdsjfngkh

will absolutely not talk about their ‘time away’ because it’s not anyone’s business, not even their own younger sister. still refuses to talk about tatiana’s death, or their mental health, or their addiction (fallen back into it but it hasn’t gotten severe … yet :/), or anything involving their own emotions.

will just change the topic abruptly, no warning. asks about the jonas brothers instead and they fucking hate the jonas brothers.

that being said they’re absolutely not over tatiana’s death & it’s to the point of obsession over it. like there’s some kind of secret that needs to be uncovered, even though there just. isn’t. tatiana was their rock and they were pretty much dependent on her. kept them grounded. could control them when nobody else could, got into their head easier than others. it’s sort of like rosa lost two siblings that day because viktor hasn’t been the same since.

emotionally unavailable while also crying twice a day. cries during their brawls but still wins. is stony-faced when they tell you they cheated on you with your much hotter best friend.

will tell you straight up what they want from you, no bullshit & no beating around the bush. just blunt. if they want to fuck, nothing else, then that’s it. if they feel deviation or developing feelings then they’ll ghost in less than a second. is awful like that but feels no shame.

but also emotional as shit and it’s confusing. will cry on a whim and then flip you off if you try to console them or ask them what’s up. will bite you.

they go to therapy but they just fuck around and wastes their therapists’ time … also is fucking their therapist, but that’s neither here nor there. so they’re not really getting the help they need.

likes to be intimidating but not … with their body or anything because they’re a twig but uses their love & knowledge of horror and creepy shit to their advantage. has an abundance of fake blood. has channeled the energy of jack nicholson and used it on tatiana’s boyfriends before (also is a big fan of sfx makeup & has dabbled in it)

probably chases kids around with a chainsaw without the chain on halloween every year.

generally never doing good, both mental health wise & morally. would probably steal candy from a baby for funsies.

i don’t know if there’s a good to them somewhere deep down, but they don’t see any issues with themself either. nothing really breaks through to them anymore because the only person who ever made them stop and think about their actions was tatiana, and well, y’know. :/

an introverted reclusive type who doesn’t like most people or going out, but does so anyway if it means a quick high & a cheap thrill.

pretty observant and likes to analyze people even though they’re often like … partially wrong. judgmental because they like to make people feel bad, not because they’re a righteous mighty person. because they’re not. so like, a hypocrite!

wanted connections.

religious trauma? oh worm ;; three cheers fr <3 guilt <3 anyways uh. just people tht viktor hs known thru the church in some way even tho hes a fkn. freak now. maybe even family friends. 

the horror of our love :/ ;; hmm. any romance tht cld b toxic i think this cld fit. just rly a bad fit. viktor doesnt rly know hw to love so nothing rly lasts bt. maybe they try n try n nothing works bt they keep trying. cld also just be anything unrequited.

little fkn gremlins ;; theyre all evil n mean. bt theyre all friends. <3 

you are nothing ;; uuh. enemy plots. spicy enemies. rly bad enemies. rivals. they r brutal towards each other bcos nothing viktor does is ever soft.

fuck u dont pity me ;; uh. people who try to get close to viktor n he just. bites at them. he’s like no. bc he assumes ppl who r kind in response 2 his vileness r. theres smth wrong w them. n it might hv to do with pity. n he hates pity.

ugh. locals x ;; ppl who also grew up around preaker, vermont. the samuels r <3 well known folks n the uh. hm. the murder is an ongoing case. so they cld know abt it <3

dont tell anybody x ;; this is for soft plots. i dont know much about soft plots but. 

maybe i am part of the problem ;; the problem is chlamydiagate. this is a hook-ups connection. fwbs n one night stands. ppl viktor hs brutally ghosted. he doesnt acknowledge their existence outside of these events, perhaps. 

dont u just wna go apeshit ;; this is where viktor becomes a bad influence.

bt uh. anything. pelase

[brokehorrorfan]

Blu-ray Review: When a Stranger Calls

1979's When a Stranger Calls features one of the most effective opening sequences in horror history; one to which Scream owes a debt of gratitude. Teenager Jill (Carol Kane, Addams Family Values) is babysitting kids that are sleeping upstairs when she begins receiving mysterious phone calls asking if she has checked on the children. She eventually learns that - spoiler alert - the calls are coming from inside the house.

It's a play on the classic urban legend, which had already been committed to film five years prior in Black Christmas, but When a Stranger Calls' sequence is 20 minutes of unrelenting suspense. The film also ends on a strong note, reintroducing Jill years later as a mother herself, only to be greeted by the familiar voice once again.

So why isn't When a Stranger Calls held in higher regard? As it turns out, what remains in between those sequences of brilliance is a bit of a slog. An opening as effective as this one is virtually impossible to top, but certainly director/co-writer Fred Walton (April Fool's Day) and co-writer Steve Feke (Mac and Me) could have done something more interesting that a plodding midsection that's derivative of Halloween but with more procedural elements.

The killer, identified as Curt Duncan (Tony Beckley, The Italian Job), is declared insane, only to escape from the mental hospital after seven years of institutionalization. Living as a vagrant, he soon takes a liking to a woman who shows him compassion - or pity - Tracy Fuller (Colleen Dewhurst, The Dead Zone). Rather than focusing on the victim or even the killer, Walton curiously opts to spend more time with detective-turned-private investigator John Clifford (Charles Durning, The Sting), who has been hired to find Duncan.

When a Stranger Calls has been reissued on Blu-ray from Mill Creek Entertainment. It's the same bare-bones disc that was previously available, but now it's packaged in a VHS-inspired slipcase featuring the original artwork. The presentation is solid for a dark, low-budget film from four decades ago, featuring Donald Peterman's (Men in Black, Addams Family Values) first major work as director of photography and a score by Dana Kaproff (The Big Red One, Empire of the Ants).

When a Stranger Calls is available now on Blu-ray via Mill Creek Entertainment.

[ghostflowerdreams]

List of Free Horror Games (2019)

This is an updated list of free horror games. The other list is old because some of the links on it are broken or the games are no longer free. This time I’ve included a description with each one. Some of these games you can even play right in your browsers (just make sure you’ve updated your Abode Flash). 

1916 - Der Unbekannte Krieg

Nestled deep inside the deluged trenches of the German frontline, you play as a soldier desperately looking for a way out. Hidden somewhere in the sunken maze of passageways is a ladder, and finding it almost certainly spells freedom. The only thing that stands between you and safety is a pack of dinosaurs.

3 AM

The city has been evacuated, something sinister haunts it at night, only a single path is safe, but to find it you have to lose your soul. A game inspired by H.P. Lovecraft. Specifically the dogs of Tindalos.

5 Days A Stranger

Trilby, a cat burglar, breaks into an supposedly vacated manor of the aristocratic DeFoe family. He quickly finds that things are not that simple. Together with a group of strangers, he finds himself imprisoned by some invisible intelligence. A force prepared to do anything to keep them all there forever.

7Days

It's a psychological horror game done in first person perspective. The game has very little plot or background. All you know is that you are a person who wakes up in a bed in a house. Your goal is to to get out of the house, but of course things aren't that simple.

Alice Mare

The game follows an amnesiac young boy named Allen who was placed under the care of a man called Teacher who looks after four other children. One night, Allen investigates the rumor of a mysterious voice on the second floor and when he returns to his room, he finds a strange black cat who leads him into his closet.

Animal Village

It’s a short survival horror game with light dating sim elements made for the Pixel Horror Jam 2016. The game is about exploring the pit in the middle of Animal Village, a quaint little settlement inhabited by talking animals. Don't talk to the bird-headed man, don't acknowledge him and don't trust him.

Ao Oni (青鬼, lit. 'Blue Demon')

The player assumes the role of Hiroshi, a young teenager who enters a haunted mansion with his friends, Takuro, Takeshi, and Mika (Along with Kazuya and Ryota in the original). Shortly after entering the mansion, the doors lock behind them. Hiroshi doubts that the mansion is haunted, but soon finds himself being pursued by an enigmatic blue Oni. Hiroshi must now find a way to save as many of his friends as possible and escape the mansion alive.

Ascension

It’s a psychological horror game in which you play as Atticus, a groundskeeper who has brought his sick daughter to work on the day of a horrible accident in his building. Separated from his daughter, Atty must survive the hordes of monsters stalking him and make it back to her before something else reaches her first.

Baby Blues

You play as Tommy, a toddler that wakes up to a strange noise in the middle of the night with a bright light shining in his eyes. Realizing his beloved teddies are missing; he climbs down out of bed and start to look for them.

Backstage

Tom Keller is lost. He has gone astray, and become trapped in a nightmare world that is a twisted mirror image of our own, tormented by horrific aberrations, haunted by shattered memories. He is alone behind the world, and to escape, he must come to terms with all of his sins.

Bad Dream: Series

It’s a series of short point-and-click games. It takes place in a creepy, dark and sad land of dream. Some of games will be a cruel and painful as nightmare, and some will be disturbing and illogical. Gameplay will always look the same, but the dreams will be different.

Project Entities: Blame (originally simply titled Blame)

This is a horror survival game. You have to dig into the game, however, to piece it together. You might also have to uncover a lot of the hidden and secret material. Epileptics, as well as those who are sensitive to light play at their own discretion.

Bunny Man - Lost Souls

It’s a game made in Slender-style where you go around and save people's souls from an urban legend creature called Bunny Man. Your goal is to save as many souls as you can before he catches you.

Candles

It’s a 3D game where you have to light up your house, which has been invaded by dangerous imps. 

Corpse Party Zero

It’s a survival horror adventure fan-made game by Noraenu created using RPG Tkool XP. It’s a prequel which stars two sisters mentioned only in passing in Corpse Party, Kaori Hasegawa and Shiho Hasegawa, who try to escape from the cursed school.

Corpse Party -Rebuilt-

It’s the remake of the original survival horror adventure game in the Corpse Party series made by an anonymous member of a Japanese message board with permission from Team GrisGris. A group of friends unknowingly perform an occult ritual that traps them in an otherworldly elementary school. Here, the vengeful spirits of young children threaten their lives and their sanity, and the only hope of survival is to uncover the chilling details behind the murders of those trapped before them...

The Crooked Man

David Hoover decides to move into a new apartment during a rough time in his life. After some odd occurrences, he decides to ask about the room's former owner, but learns little. So he sets off in search of him, strangely compelled to know more about this man...

Cry of Fear

It’s a psychological single-player and co-op horror game set in a deserted town filled with horrific creatures and nightmarish delusions. You play as a young man desperately searching for answers in the cold Scandinavian night, finding his way through the city as he slowly descends into madness.

Daily Chthonicle

You take on the role of a Supernatural Newspaper Agency boss and editor. The world it takes place in is a dark and haunted one, with ghosts, zombies, monsters and even shapeshifting murderers, pretending to be human after they have stolen their victims' bodies or infiltrated the humanity. It was inspired heavily by the works of H.P. Lovecraft and it builds on the atmosphere of uncertainty and noir of the 1940s.

Dark Deception

It’s a story-driven first-person horror maze game. There's nowhere to hide and nowhere to catch your breath. Run or die -- it's your choice. Trapped in a realm of nightmarish mazes with a mysterious woman, your only hope of survival is to find a way to escape the darkness.

Dark Dread

A missing teenager. An abandoned hospital. You are a detective who has to find out what happened to Helena Greenwood.If you don't go insane while doing so...

Deep Sleep, Deeper Sleep & The Deepest Sleep

You are stuck inside a nightmare dream. Something lurks in the darkness... Something in the depths of your own mind wants to pull you even deeper. Someone will escape this dream for sure. The question is -- who is that going to be?

The Designer's Curse

The first chapter of an unforgettable survival horror experience. Solve puzzles and work your way through this terrifying place. You may be more familiar with it than you initially think.

The Devil Haunts Me

Survive, explore and discover the secrets of the woods. But be careful, there's something else in these woods...

Devil's Tuning Fork

It’s a first-person exploration/puzzle game in which the player must navigate an unknown world using visual sound waves. Inspired by M.C. Escher’s classic optical illusion and the echolocation of dolphins.

Dissolving

Her ex-boyfriend became a shut-in. The girl goes to visit him... then things start to go wrong. They always do, right? Experience two stories about digital gods and loss. And remember -- believe in the net.

Disturbed

Play as a farmer who struggles to manage a failing farm. You come to a point where there is no more hope, and you must do something.

Doorways: Old Prototype

It’s an immersive and twisted adventure created before the official development of the Doorways saga.

Doki Doki Literature Club

The Literature Club is full of cute girls! Will you write the way into their heart? This game is not suitable for children or those who are easily disturbed.

Don't Escape

I woke up in a room... It is not locked and I remember everything. I'm a werewolf. Tonight I will turn and people will die... unless I find a way to prevent myself from escaping this place.

Don’t Look Now

Don’t look at them. They will drain you of your last sanity if they catch you. Direct your consciousness and reach your happy place.

Erie

Erie begins in October 1966, when the Fermi 1 Nuclear Power Generator suffers a partial meltdown, and locals begin disappearing from a sleepy Michigan town. Oliver Victor is a Red Cross Investigator sent to find missing locals, but quickly finds himself trapped underground and being hunted by a product of forced-mutation experiments.

Eyes

If you like Slender, you'll like this too. You’re to search an old, abandoned house and collect any valuables but be careful -- there are rumors of a ghost haunting the building.

Exmortis & Exmortis 2

You wake up in the woods with no memory of how you got there. Nightmares of blood and screams still echo through your mind. It's late and it's cold - unless you can find shelter fast, you won't last the night. You spot a house in a clearing up ahead and left with no choice - you decide to shelter there for the night. Soon after you begin to realize that death is a welcome choice compared to what lies waiting for you inside...

Fausts Alptraum

It’s an single player, puzzle game created by LabORat Studio, an indie game team from Taiwan. The story is based on Goethe's Faust. Players will play as a troubled girl wandering around in a crayon-drawn world.

Forget Me Not Annie

It’s a first person psychological horror game. You play as a 15 year old girl Annie who is trapped within her own mind and has to use her telekinetic powers with the help of Howard who you are able to summon at any moment to surpass puzzles.

From Next Door

It’s a short mystery-horror game developed for the 2016 Pixel Horror Jam. It draws inspiration from the works of Junji Ito and games like Silent Hill, with the story focused on the eerie and the bizarre. It tells the story of a young woman who moves into a new house, only to experience weird occurrences from the seemingly empty house next door. Depending on your choices the outcome will change and could even grant her safety or not.

The Groundskeeper

After a horrific accident, you find yourself trapped in an unfamiliar place where no one can hear you scream. There's a dark presence... A dark secret that this place holds. Is there any way out? Is HE watching?

Hello? Hell…o?

It’s a Japanese RPG horror game by Ryuuichi Tachibana created with RPG Maker VX Ace. You play as a boy named Kazuki that is going through strain in a relationship with his girlfriend, Akari. It takes place in a strange room where you have to accomplish certain things in order to complete all the endings.

Hide

Play hide and seek with someone who hides in the mist. All you have is your ears.

The House & The House 2

It’s a point-and-click flash horror game. Built in 1970, and deserted some time after that, no one has entered the house since the entire family committed suicide due to reasons unknown. Your goal is to search through the house to unfold the mystery of what really happened to that fateful fictitious family.

Human

It’s a short psychological horror game which examines inherent, earthly, and otherworldly evils, and the forces which drive them. As you make your way through an Alaskan auroral research facility in search of employees it quickly becomes very clear that something has become alerted to your presence.

I Can’t Escape

You have fallen into a vast underground maze. Can you find your way out, or will you end up trapped in darkness forever?

I See You

You play as an unnamed protagonist waking up in an empty hospital. However, it soon turns out the hospital is not quite so empty...

Ib

A young girl named Ib visits an art gallery with her parents. While observing the many exhibits, she suddenly realizes she is alone. And in her search for others, she finds things awry in the gallery...

Ildefonse

In 1935, Mr. Ildefonse was betrayed by his wife who then fled with their children, Mr. Ildefonse lost his head and unleashed a massacre at his home involving employees, then he committed suicide. The rest of the story is completed with letters from tenants who lived in the building, which was later converted into flats but haunted by the things that happened in the past.

In the game, the year 1977, the player is a lawyer hired to collect the testament papers in the house, requested by a family member.

Imscared: A Pixelated Nightmare

The player must find keys, open doors and search for the exit to this nightmare.

Lamia Nox

It’s an indie horror game made with RPG Maker VX Ace. Laura, an 14-year-old who is pretty much a normal young girl. But her life is changed for the worse when she wakes up one day to find that her home is completely different. 

The Last Door: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3 & Episode 4

Free episodic horror game, with original pixel-art visuals and a gorgeous orchestral music score. Surrounded by a thrilling sound atmosphere, player's will experience a really immersive environment thought the stimulation of their imagination, just like classic horror writers like Poe and Lovecraft used to.

Leave

The game begins with the protagonist waking up in her bedroom, but it's up to the player to search her house for the backstory.

Lucie

Lucie, a girl who, after waking up in a strange room realizes that she is stuck in a lucid dream. She encounters evil beings and traps while searching for her body.

Lurking

It’s a sound-based survival thriller gae, where sound is the only way you see, and they hear your fears.

Mad Father

Aya Drevis is a young girl living in an isolated mansion in northern Germany. Since her mother's passing, she's felt lonely living with just her father and his assistant Maria. What's more, she knows her father's secret...

Mermaid Swamp

Rin Yamazaki and her college friends have their car break down in the mountains on a trip. Fortunately, a kindly old man offers to let them stay at his house. But there's a legend about the swamp outside the mansion...

Misao

It's been three months since the mysterious disappearance of Misao. No one has any idea where she could have gone, but many believe she's dead by now. And when paranormal events crop up around the school, rumors spread that she's out for revenge...

Miserere

In Miserere you explore the dreams of a lonely space station occupant. The unnamed occupant have been on this station for years, all alone. Needless to say, this has taken its toll on our poor protagonists mind. This occasionally shows in the dreams. But there are still glimmers of hope.

Nightmare of the Snow

It’s a RPG Adventure Horror game developed in late 2013. The game centers on Yuuki Shinozaki, a shy middle schooler who is attending a farewell party, but before that, she is taken mysteriously to a lost dimension where a mansion that was supposed to had disappeared for many years exists. 

Ningyo Heart

It’s about a man’s journey through a nightmare, in search for his beloved and finding his true self. The main theme in this horror game is friendship, romance and horror. Game play will focus on puzzle solving & survival horror (run and chase event).

Nyctophobia

You have a job. That job is to be a security guard during the night shift at a local office complex. You and Marley do it every night. Get decent pay for it too. Enough to keep you going. But Marley's just called in sick, so you gotta do the shift alone. Shouldn't be bad, right? Well, the power's just gone off, and I don't think you're alone anymore...

OFF

It’s an 2003 RPGmaker created game. You take control of a mysterious person called “The Batter”, who is described to be on an important mission. The Batter, and yourself as his controller, are dropped off in zone 0, the first of 4 zones in a perplexing, unknown world about which you slowly find out more and more in the process of the game.

One Late Night

It’s a short immersive horror-game experience, starring an unnamed graphic designer employee, working late one night at the office, until strange things start to happen.

Pact With a Demon - Episode 1 & Pack With a Demon - Episode 2

You must survive on an island after a car accident and find a way out, while several demonic creatures try to attack you.

Palette

One night, the psychiatrist Sianos B. Sian is requested to counsel a girl called B.D., who has lost her eyesight and memory in an accident. Through conversations with her over the phone, the past that hides in her memories comes to light...

Phantasmal: Survival Horror Roguelike

Experience Terror that is Never the Same Twice with Phantasmal, a Lovecraftian survival horror that evolves every time you play!

Pocket Mirror

It’s a horror game created in RPGMaker VX ACE. You play as a nameless girl in the journey to find her purpose and memories within a mysterious world.

Port of Call

Imagine waking up on a small dock with no recollection of who you are or how you got there. The first person you find is a grumpy, old man who enlists you to work on his ferry boat which seems to have materialized behind you.

[REC] Shutter

It’s a horror game that you must progress through levels while avoiding the paranormal and solving puzzles. You take the role of a reporter named Connor, who will be investigating Pennyhill, a dark hunted asylum.

Re:Kinder

Third-grader Shunsuke goes to stay over at his grandmother's house. Upon his return home, he finds not his familiar hometown, but a ruined town of death. He meets his surviving friends and some other children their age, but a crueler reality awaits them...

Schuld

It’s a surreal, psychological horror game. This is an translated version of the German game. Schuld (Guilty) is about a man who finds himself in a dying world, without knowing how he got there and why he is there.

SCP - Containment Breach

It’s a survival horror game based on the works of the SCP Foundation community.

September 1999

Its a free, VHS styled, first-person found footage horror game, which runs exactly for 5 minutes and 30 seconds.

Serena

It’s a point-and-click adventure horror game. How long has it been? A man sits in a distant getaway cabin waiting for his wife Serena. Where is she? Things in the cabin evoke memories, and the husband comes to a disturbing realization... 

Shutter

You are woken up by a sudden loud noise in the middle of the night in your recently moved into apartment. Moving boxes are scattered all over the place, still things left to unpack. All the lights in the house are turned on, but you're sure you turned them off. You leave your room to investigate, your trusty camera in hand.

Silent Hill: Room 304

It’s a point-and-click horror game based on the popular video game series, Silent Hill by Konami Digital Entertainment.

Silent Santiago

It’s inspired by the popular Silent Hill survival horror series from Konami. This horror game is developed by students of a Chilean university. The streets in this game are inspired by the reality of the Santiago city, in Chile, going so far as to recreating the plazas and the narrow alleys. The atmosphere, however, is incredibly eerie and similar to the Silent Hill games, with a thick fog covering the entire city. The goal of the game is to navigate the maze-like streets of the city of Santiago and to reach the exit.

Slender: The Eight Pages

The game centers around an unknown character being chased by the Slender Man in the woods while seeking eight pages scattered about various landmarks.

Spooky’s Jump Scare Mansion

Can you survive 1000 rooms of cute terror? Or will you break once the cuteness starts to fade off and you're running for your life from the unspeakable hideous beings that shake and writhe in bowels of this house? They wait for you, they wait and hunger for meeting you.

The Night That Speaks

You don't remember how you got to the graveyard, but you know you've been meaning to visit.

The Static Speaks My Name

A dark, sad, weird, and funny first-person exploration game. You play a man on his last night alive as he obsesses over a mysterious painting.

Try to Fall Asleep

John Herrin survived a horrible accident and as a result, he damaged his brain and lost his memory. Only Dr. Rick Norberg and the friendly robot "AB" can help John to recover from his brain damage and restore his broken memory. 

By falling asleep and rediscovering the past in his dreams, John can restore his memory and remember what caused the unfortunate catastrophe in one of the most secretive laboratories of the "Revivel" company. But due to John's brain damage, falling asleep won't be as easy as it seems at first... 

Vanish

Thrown into a Labyrinth for reasons unknown, you must roam through the darkness to find your escape. Do you have what it takes to get out alive? Or will you be another feast for the walls that seem to live?

Which

It’s a short game in which you look for a way to open the door out of the small house.

The White Chamber

It’s a point-and-click horror adventure game. You play as a trapped young woman from 3rd person perspective as she solves puzzles and overcomes the twisted obstacles in her path.

The Witch’s House

The young Viola visits a mysterious house in the woods. She soon discovers its dangerous nature and must find a way out. But the house is ever-changing, and death could be lurking anywhere...

Within Deep Sorrows

A demon haunts you throughout your nightmares, as it gradually makes its way into the real world. The only way to prevent this from happening is for you, Johnston Barker to destroy your diary, which is hidden within your third dream. Each descending dream makes it harder to avoid the demon, allowing it to become stronger, and more aggressive. The time period is set in the 1990's, though when dreaming, it is set back in the 1950's. You are not alone however, as your conscious speaks to you during the process, giving you guidance as you deeply wonder within your nightmares.

Yume Nikki (ゆめにっき, lit. Dream Diary)

It’s a 32-Bit game created by KIKIYAMA, a mysterious Japanese game designer. It was made using RPG Maker 2003. The players explore the dreams of a hikikomori named Madotsuki, where they encounter a number of surrealistic horror creatures and locations.

[winchesterbrotherstan]

Supernatural- Hook Man (1.07)

Pairing: N/A, Olive Winchester (OC)

Summary: A second old-time classic rears its ugly hook, the siblings still can’t find their dad, Sam and Olive get hurt again

Warnings: stabbing, mentions of a dead parent, cursing, etc

Word Count: 5154

“Alright, thank you for your time.” Sam hung up the payphone and came back to the table with a sigh.

“Your, uh, half-caf, double vanilla latte is gettin’ cold over here, Francis.” Dean called, not looking up from the laptop.

“Bite me.” Sam hissed before sitting down next to me.

“Anything?” I turned, eyes wide.

Sam shook his head. “I had ‘em check the FBI’s Missing Persons Data Bank. No John Doe’s fitting Dad’s description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations.” He sighed again, seeing the disappointment on my face. “I’m sorry, bug.” He wrapped an arm around me.

“Guys, I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t think Dad wants to be found.” Dean spoke, and Sam’s face dropped into one of disappointment too.

“Check this out.” Dean tilted the computer toward us. “News article out of Planes Courier.  Ankeny, Iowa. It’s only about a hundred miles from here.”

“The mutilated body was found near the victim’s car, parked on 9 Mile Road.” Sam read, disgusted.

“Keep reading.” Dean instructed.

“Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible.” I raised an eyebrow.

“Could be something interesting.” Dean grinned.

Sam shook his head. “Or it could be nothing at all. One freaked out witness who didn’t see anything? Doesn’t mean it’s the Invisible Man.”

“But what if it is? Dad would check it out.” Dean persisted with a wide smile, knowing he had us hooked now.

                                                        ***

We pulled up to the frat house the victim lived at, and I groaned.

“Do I have to come with you?”

“Shush.” Dean patted my face with his entire hand. “You’re just our little sister, you’re tagging along for today while Mom and Dad finalize the divorce.”

I rolled my eyes, but stuck myself to Sam’s side as he slid out of the car. He held my hand and kept me tucked half behind him as the frat boys looked at us.

“One more time, why are we here?” Sam hissed.

“Vic lived here.” I whispered back, wrapping my free hand around his arm.

“Nice wheels.” Dean grinned at the boys on the street, who were fixing their ugly little car.

They only received strange looks. Dean grinned again, and if it were a sorority house, we would’ve been welcomed with open arms.

“We’re your new fraternity brothers. From Ohio. We’re new, transfers. Looking for a place to stay.”

One boy arched an eyebrow and pointed at me. “She’s not a boy.”

Sam squared his shoulders. “This is our sister, Olive. She’ll only be here for a few days.”

One snorted. “Why would you bring a sixteen year old to a frat house?”

“Because our parents are finalizing the divorce today and she doesn’t feel like being there.” Sam almost hissed.

“Oh.”

“Hey, that your car?” Another boy broke the tension.

Dean’s grin grew wider as attention was averted to Baby. “Yeah, she is.”

“Oh, sick. C’mon, there’s a few places to stay inside.” He beckoned for us to follow him into the house.

                                                       ***

“Who are you?” The boy slathered with purple paint and wearing yellow shorts turned as Dean knocked on the door.

“We’re your new roommates.” He smiled, then pointed back to me. “Well, not her. She’s temporary.”

“Do me a favor? Get my back. Big game today.” The boy asked, holding the paint can and a brush out to Dean.

Dean shook his head and pointed to Sam. “He’s the artist. Things he can do with a brush.”

Sam looked horrified, and I sighed. I took the paint can and the brush with a roll of my eyes. Sam stood in the doorway, uncomfortable. Dean dropped onto a chair and picked up a porno magazine, glancing at me before tossing it aside and picking up another one.

“So…” He looked for a name, and found one on the magazine. “Murph. Is it true?”

“What?” The boy turned, and the paint went onto my shoes as the can jolted.

I gritted my teeth and took a deep breath, and Sam sighed, coming to my rescue. He turned Murph back around and told him to stay, then took the paint from me.

Dean held a hand out and I took it, sitting on his lap as I pulled my boots off.

“We heard one of the guys around here got killed last week.”

Murph’s posture fell. “Yeah.”

“What happened?” I asked as I wiped the paint off my boots.

Murph shrugged. “They’re saying some psycho with a knife. Maybe a drifter passing through. Rich was a good guy.”

“Rich. He was with somebody?” Sam asked.

“Not just somebody. Lori Sorensen.” Murph wiggled his eyebrows.

“Who’s Lori Sorensen?” Dean asked, taking my other boot and helping me push off the layer of paint. 

“Lori’s a freshman. She’s a local. Super hot. And get this, she’s a reverend’s daughter.” Murph smiled.

Dean’s face turned grim. “You wouldn’t happen to know which church, would ya?”

                                                      ***

“Our hearts go out to the family of a young man who perished. And my personal prayers of thanks go out as well because I believe he died trying to protect my daughter.” Reverend Sorensen spoke, and Lori was in the front row, looking embarrassed.

“And now, as time heals all our wounds, we should reflect on what this tragedy means. To us, as a church.”

The boys walked in, having parked the car while I cased the place. The doors slammed shut, and I groaned mentally, burying my head in my hands from the back row. Everyone stared, and after a moment of silence, Reverend Sorensen continued.

“As a community, and as a family. The loss of a young person is particularly tragic. A life unlived is the saddest of passings.”

I flagged Dean down with a glare, and he inches into the pew next to me. Sam followed, and Lori stared at him. I eyed him, and he sent a weak smile.

“So, please, let us pray. For peace, for guidance, and for the power to protect our children.” We bowed our heads out of respect.

Dean raised me, and Dean didn’t believe in God, so neither did I. Sam bowed his head, and I wasn’t sure where his idea of faith laid. Dean’s head didn’t go down, so I elbowed him. His green eyes widened and he blinked before looking down at our feet. He nudged my purple stained boot and smiled.

                                                      ***

“Are you Lori?” Sam asked as the blonde came our way.

“Yeah.” Lori nodded.

“My name is Sam. This is my brother, Dean, and my sister Olive.” Sam pointed to us, and we waved.

“Hi.” I smiled, and Dean did the same, albeit begrudgingly.

“Dean and I just transferred here to the university.” Sam explained. “Olive’s staying with us for a few days.”

Lori nodded. “I saw you inside.”

“We don’t wanna bother you. We just heard about what happened and…”

Dean frowned. “We wanted to say how sorry we were.”

“I kind of know what you’re going through. I-I saw someone… get hurt once. It’s something you don’t forget.” Sam’s eyes glassed over.

Lori nodded, and her father walked up to us. Lori turned, and stumbled across her words.

“Dad, um, this is Sam and Dean. They’re new students. This is their sister, Olive.”

Dean shook his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I must say, that was an inspiring sermon.”

The reverend smiled. “Thank you very much. It’s so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord’s message.”

I coughed, and Dean patted my back with a chuckle. “Listen, uh, we’re new in town, actually.” He led him away, and pointed me to Sam, a silent gesture to stay. “And, uh, we were looking for a, um, a church group.” He led him away entirely.

“Tell us, Lori.” Sam squeezed my hand.

“What are the police saying?” I tugged him to walk, and Lori followed.

“Well, they don’t have a lot to go on. I think they blame me for that.” She mumbled.

“What do you mean?” Sam tilted his head.

“My story. I was so scared, I guess I was seeing things.”

Sam stopped, and I stumbled over my feet as I was pulled to a stop. His eyes were wide as he stared at her.

“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.”

                                                      ***

“So, Ollie, you believe her?” Dean asked as we sat down at the library table.

I shrugged. “Sounded like one of ours. Sams, you?”

Sam nodded. “I do.”

Dean smiles. “Yeah, I think she’s hot, too.”

Sam shook his head with an eye roll. “No, man, there’s something in her eyes.”

Sam was sounding sappy, and it scared me because Jess had only been dead for a few months. I jumped in.

“And, get this. She heard scratching on the roof. Found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car.” I moved to sit next to Dean instead.

He looked down at me. “Wait, the body suspended? That sounds like the-”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, we know, the Hook Man legend.”

Dean scoffed. “That’s one of the most famous urban legends ever. You don’t think that we’re dealing with the Hook Man.”

Sam and I looked at each other. I shrugged.

“Every urban legend has a source. A place where it all began.”

Dean sputtered. “Yeah, but what about the phantom scratches and the tire punctures and the invisible killer?”

“Well, maybe the Hook Man isn’t a man at all. What if it’s some kind of spirit?” Sam arched an eyebrow.

Dean looked at me, and upon seeing my agreeing with Sam, sighed. “Let’s go.”

                                                      ***

“Here you go. Arrest records going back to 1851.” The librarian dropped the box in front of us.

Dean blew some dust off the top, and I breathed it in. I cleaned my throat, and began to cough.

“Thanks.” Dean patted my back.

She nodded and walked away. Dean coughed now too, and I had to duck under the table to finish coughing.

“So, this is how you spent four good years of your life, huh?” Dean rubbed my back.

Sam grinned as I popped back up, handing me a folder. “Welcome to higher education.”

                                                      ***

“Hey, check this out.” Sam spoke and Dean shook my arm.

“No.” I groaned, huddling closer into him.

“Bug. Up, we found something.” Sam nudged my feet under the table.

“What?” I opened my eyes, climbing into Dean’s lap.

“1862. A preacher named Jacob Karns was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes. Uh, right here, some of the deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against the sins of the flesh.”

I grimaced, ducking my head into Dean’s neck. He gave my side a pat, and made me look at a paper. “Get this, the murder weapon? Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident. Had it replaced with a silver hook.”

Sam handed me another paper. “And look where all this happened.”

I sniffled, fixing my glasses back onto the bridge of my nose. “9 Mile Road.” I grumbled, voice crackly.

“Same place where the frat boy was killed.” Sam pressed.

I smiled at him, then up at Dean.

“Nice job, Dr. Venkman. Let’s check it out.”

                                                      ***

“Here ya go, Sams.” I tossed him the hunting rifle.

“Buckshot won’t do much good if it’s a spirit, bug.” Sam eyed me.

“Yeah, rock salt.” Dean nodded and handed me another rifle.

“Huh. Salt being a spirit deterrent.” Sam nodded, impressed.

Dean took a coil of rope out and shut the trunk. “Yeah. It won’t kill ‘em. But it’ll slow ‘em down.”

We walked to the trees, and I held my rifle up, shaking. 

“That’s pretty good. You and Dad think of this?” Sam walked in front of me, trying to calm me.

I smiled. “Dean told you. You don’t have to be a college graduate to be a genius.”

There was a noise in the trees, and Sam raised his gun. Dean pulled me between them.

“Over there, over there.” Dean pointed.

Sam raised his gun, and a figure emerged from the trees. Dean saw it first, and he shoved the keys into my hand.

“Drive to the motel, don’t come back, I’ll call.” He shoved me away before I could protest.

I ducked behind a tree, peering around the corner.

“Put the gun down now! Now! Put your hands behind your head.” It was a sheriff.

“W-w-wait, okay, okay!” Dean dropped the gun and put his hands up, and Sam followed.

“Now get down on your knees. Come on, do it! On your knees!”

I watched as the boys complied.

“Now get down on your bellies. Come on, do it!”

“He had the gun!” Dean defended himself, laying down on his stomach.

The sheriff’s light came my way, and I ran as silently as I could, getting back to the car and booking it out of there.

                                                      ***

The phone rang, and I dove across the bed, checking  the caller ID.

Deano ♥.

“De!”

“All good, baby. Saved Sam’s ass! Talked the Sheriff down to a fine. Sis, I am Matlock.”

I snorted. “But how?”

“I told ‘em he was a dumbass pledge and that we were hazing him.”

“What about the shotgun? Did he hear me?”

“Told him we saw a deer nearby, chalked it up to that.”

“Shotgun?” I repeated.

“Said that he was hunting ghosts and the spirits were repelled by rock salt. You know, typical Hell Week prank.”

“And he believed you?”

“Well, Sam kinda looks like a dumbass pledge.”

Police sirens rang, and Dean stopped talking.

“De?”

“Come pick us up. Cops are bolting somewhere.”

“On my way.”

                                                      ***

Dean parked the car, and Sam was the first to scramble out.

“Why would the Hook Man come here? This is a long way from 9 Mile Road.”

“Maybe he’s not haunting the scene of his crime. Maybe it’s about something else.” I suggested. “Maybe he wants to finish the job, come for Lori?”

Two girls came out of the side entrance, and we ducked to hide by a bush. Dean grinned, pointing.

“Dude! Sorority girls! Do you think we’ll see a naked pillow fight?”

I hit the back of his head. “Come on, dumbass.”

Sam was climbing up a tree, to the balcony of the house. His foot slipped, but Dean caught it. He pushed him up before pulling me ahead of him.

“C’mon, bug.” Sam held his hands up, pulling me up as I got my feet against the tree, clambering over onto the balcony. Dean came last, and by then, Sam had the window open.

“Go first, you’re a girl.” Sam whispered.

I crawled in, narrowly avoiding Sam and Dean tumbling in. Dean was on top of Sam, who groaned.

“Shit, sorry!”

“Be quiet.” Sam groaned, shoving him off.

“You be quiet.” Dean scoffed.

“Both of you shut the fuck up.” I hissed, tugging Sam onto his feet.

                                                      ***

Sam peered through the door. He waited, then opened it all the way. We moved from her closet to her bedroom.

“Come on.” He whispered, leading us from the dark to the light.

AREN’T YOU GLAD YOU DIDN’T TURN ON THE LIGHT? was scrawled on the wall in blood, with big blocky letters. I shivered in the darkness. Sam grimaced and Dean sniffled, hugging me into his side.

“That’s right out of the legend.” I whispered.

“Yeah, that’s classic Hook Man alright.” Dean tapped his nose, again sniffling. “It’s definitely a spirit.”

I coughed, now smelling what he smelled.

“Yeah, I’ve never smelled ozone this strong before.” Sam snorted.

“Hey, come here.” Dean called Sam over.

I looked down at what he pointed. It was a cross symbol, beneath the red, bloody writing on the wall.

“That look familiar to you?” I asked.

                                                      ***

“Same symbol.” I pointed to the picture that Sam had in his hands.

“Seems like it is the spirit of Jacob Karns.”

“Alright, alright, let’s find the dude’s grave, salt and burn the bones, and put him down like the dirty son of a bitch he is.” I grumbled.

Dean looked at me, eyebrows raised. “When did you become me?”

Sam tried to snort, but choked instead. “Watch your language, bug.”

I rolled my eyes with a smile. “Let’s just go.” I shoved another paper into Sam’s hand.

Sam rolled his eyes again, shuffling through the papers. “Alright, okay, here. ‘After execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an Old North Cemetery’... In an unmarked grave.’ Just our luck.” Sam scoffed.

“Super.” Dean grunted, and I huffed.

“Okay. Okay, so at least we know it’s Karns. But we still don’t know where he’d manifest. Or why.” I sighed.

“I’ll take a wild guess about why. I think Sammy’s little friend Lori has something to do with this.” Dean glared at him.

Sam groaned, throwing his head back.

                                                      ***

“Hey, De.” I rubbed my eyes as I latched onto his arm.

“Man, you’ve been holding out on me. This college thing is awesome!” He winked at a blonde that passed by.

“This wasn’t really my experience.” Sam scratched the back of his neck.

“Let me guess. Libraries, studying, straight A’s?” Dean rose an eyebrow, and Sam nodded. “What a geek.” Dean turned and ruffled my hair. “Alright, you do your homework?”

I nodded, fumbling with Sam’s jacket and pulling out a paper. “Yeah. It was bugging me, right? We haven’t been able to figure out how the Hook Man’s caught up with Lori, right? Sams and I think I came up with something.” I handed it out to Dean.

“1932. Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967. Seminarian held in hippie rampage.” Dean read with a sigh.

“De, there’s a pattern here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, pointing to the paper again. “Both cases, the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immorality. And then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force. Killings carried out, get this, with a sharp instrument.” I pressed.

Dean shook his head and threw up a hand. “Okay, so what’s the connection to Lori?”

Sam and I looked at each other, rolling our eyes.

“Dean.” Sam sighed. “A man of religion? Who openly preaches against immorality?”

Dean’s face became one of understanding, and he nodded, motioning a hand to continue.

“Except maybe this time, instead of saving the whole town, he’s just trying to save his only daughter.” I offered.

Dean’s eyebrows knitted across his forehead. “Reverend Sorensen. You think he’s summoning the spirit?”

Sam shrugged. “Maybe. Or, you know how a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, the spirit latches onto the reverend’s repressed emotions, feeds off them, yeah, okay.”

“Without the reverend ever even knowing.” I offered again.

“Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight, Sams.”

He nodded at me. “What about you two?”

Dean was looking at a blonde by the pool table. He was practically drooling over her, eyes wide and mouth open.

“De.” I shook his arm.

“I’m gonna go see if I can find that unmarked grave. Ollie, you should stay with Sam.” Dean’s eyebrows furrowed again, this time in concern.

I shook my head. “I’m coming with you.” I looked up.

Dean sighed, looking back at the blonde, then to me. “Fine, let’s go.”

                                                      ***

In the gleam of my flashlight, I saw a headstone, a cross engraved on it. I hit Dean’s arm and pointed.

“Here.”

Dean gave my hair a ruffle and walked forward, tossing me a shovel.

“Let’s get this son of a bitch, babes.”

                                                      ***

I hit the wood of the coffin and coughed, sweating.

“That’s it. Next time, we get to watch the cute girl’s house.” Dean huffed, breaking the rest of the coffin far enough to see the rotted body of Jacob Karns.

“Hello, preacher.” I trilled, tossing aside my shovel.

Dean helped me out of the grave. I dug the salt out of the duffle bag, and tossed Dean the can of lighter fluid. I poured over half the container, and I stepped back as Dean lit a match.

“Goodbye, preacher.” Dean sang in the same tone and threw the match over the grave.

It went out on the way down, and I laughed. He turned to glare at me. I leaned against his shoulder and laughed again. He sighed, pulling out another lighter. I took it and tossed it into the grave, and the bones went up in flames.

                                                      ***

“What the fuck happened? Sams!” I tried to push past the two deputies that were in front of Sam.

The reverend had been attacked, in his own home. Sam had tried to stop him, but it was too late. Reverend Sorensen was in the hospital, and we were stuck trying to continue cleaning the mess.

“No, it’s alright, we’re with him. He’s our brother.” Dean pointed. “Hey! Brother!”

“Sams!” I popped to my toes.

“Let ‘em through.” The sheriff stepped aside.

“Thanks.” Dean whispered to Sam as I ran to him, jumping into his arms.

“Hey, bug.”

“The fuck happened?” I asked again, pulling back to look at his face.

“Hook Man.” Sam scoffed, letting me drop back onto the ground.

“Y-you saw him?” I tilted my head.

“Damn right.” Sam’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you guys torch the bones?”

Dean and I scowled. “We did! We burned them, through and through.”

“Sams, are we sure it’s the spirit of Jacob Karns? Maybe we’re wrong, maybe we got them all mixed up.”

“It sure as hell looked like him. That’s not all. I don’t think the spirit is latching onto the reverend.” Sam shook his head and lowered his voice.

“Well, yeah, no shit. Dude wouldn’t send the Hook after himself.”

“I think it’s latching onto Lori. Last night she found out her father is having an affair with a married woman.” Sam lowered his voice even more.

“So what?”

I rolled my eyes. “De, she’s probably upset about it.”

“She’s definitely upset about it. She’s upset about the immorality of it. She told me she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you get punished.” Sam explained.

“Okay,” I nodded. “So she’s conflicted. Preacher is latching onto her repressed emotions and he’s doing the punishing for her.”

“Right.” Dean nodded furiously. “Rich comes on too strong, Taylor tries to make her a party girl, Dad has an affair. Jeez.” He sucked in air through his teeth. “Jesus, remind me not to piss this girl off.”

“Okay, but we burned the bones. I dumped half the fucking container on them. Why didn’t that stop him?”

“You guys must’ve missed something.”

“No. We burned everything in that coffin.” Dean shook his head.

“Did you get the hook?”

Dean and I looked at each other, and his nostrils flared in his confusion.

“The hook?”

“Well, it was the murder weapon, and in a way, it was part of him.” Sam shrugged.

I snorted, threw my head back, and groaned. “So, like the bones, the hook is a source of his power. It’s keeping him here.”

“So. If we find the hook…” Sam started.

“We stop the Hook Man.” The three of us smiled.

                                                      ***

“Here’s something. I think. Log book, Iowa State Penitentiary.” I plopped into Dean’s lap, and he caught me with a grunt. “Karns, Jacob. Person affects, disposition thereof.” Dean read over my shoulder.

“Does it mention the hook?”

“Yeah, maybe.” I smacked Dean’s hand away and flipped the page. “Upon execution, all earthly items shall be remanded to the prisoner’s house of worship, St. Barnabas Church.”

Dean seemed to flinch, and I looked at Sam “Isn’t that where Lori’s dad preaches?”

“Yeah. She lives there too.”

“Okay, so maybe that’s why the Hook Man’s been haunting reverends and their daughters for the last 200 years.” I closed the book, shoving it away.

“Yeah, but if the hook were at Lori’s house or at the church, don’t you think someone might’ve seen it? I mean, a bloodstained, silver-handled hook?” Dean asked, leaning his chin on my shoulder.

“Let’s check the church records.” I made grabby hands at another stack of books, and Sam slid them toward me.

I handed one to Dean, and he put it off to the side, reading it with his head still on me. I skimmed through it, but I couldn’t find anything. I sighed, and shoved it aside, picking up another book.

“Got it!” Sam perked up.

“Shh!” The librarian shushed us with a glare.

“Sorry.” I mouthed back.

“St. Barnabas donations, 1862. Received silver-handled hook from state penitentiary. Reforged.” He sighed.

“Reforged?” I rubbed my forehead.

“They melted it down. Made it into something else.” He sighed.

I groaned.

                                                      ***

“Alright, we can’t take any chances. Anything silver goes in the fire.” Dean grunted as we got out of the car.

Sam nodded. “Lori’s still at the hospital. We’ll have to break in.”

“Alright, take your pick.”

“I’ll take the house. Ols, you with Dean or you with me?”

“I’ll go with Dean.” I grabbed his hand.

“Okay. Hey, Sam!” Dean called over his shoulder, and the giraffe postured boy turned, eyebrows raised. “Stay out of her panty drawer.” He mocked.

Sam rolled his eyes and flipped him off, then winked my way, sending an air kiss. I caught it exaggeratedly, putting it up to my face and grinning.

                                                      ***

“Get that.” Dean pointed to the last thing, a silver candle holder.

I tossed it to him, and he threw it in the fireplace. We watched it, then looked around once more to make sure we hadn’t missed anything.

“Alright, I got everything that even looked silver.” Sam dumped a pillowcase on the floor.

“Better safe than sorry.” Dean nodded.

Dean and I dug our hands in, tossing handfuls into the fire as Sam got the rest. The wood ceiling creaked, and Sam and I froze. Dean hit my shoulder and I threw the chained necklace in my hand into the fire.

“Move, move.” Dean yanked his gun out of his waistband.

Sam moved up the stairs first, and I was forced to follow in the middle. We popped into the temple to see Lori sitting in a pew, crying. I nodded at Dean over my shoulder and he headed back down the steps as Sam walked over the Lori. He sat down next to her and I sighed, trudging back down the stairs.

Dean was crouched in front of the fireplace, watching as the rest of the things were thrown into the fire. He saw my slouched shoulders and stood, holding a hand out to me. I sighed, crashing into his chest. He kissed the top of my head.

“It’s okay, sweetpea. What’s got you so rough?”

I sighed again. “Jess hasn’t been gone that long. It’s been maybe a few months. And here he is, flirting up another girl. I get he’s sad and he’s bonding with her, and I get it’s his choice, but I know Sam. I know him, De, and this isn’t him.”

Dean sighed. “I’m sorry, babes.”

There was another creak from the floorboards, but it wasn’t around where Sam had ended. I looked up, and it got cold. I shivered, and my breath left my mouth in a cloud. Dean and I looked at each other, eyes wide. I snatched the rifle off the floor and scrambled up the stairs, almost faceplanting onto the floor.

“Sam, drop!” I screamed.

Sam crouched down, and Dean shot at the Hook. He disappeared into dust. Sam shot back up, looking at us with panic in his eyes.

“I thought we got all the silver!”

“So did we!” Dean shouted back at Sam as he helped Lori get to her feet.

“Then why the fuck is he still here?” I scowled.

“Well, maybe we missed something!” Dean scoffed.

Sam froze, and he snatched something off Lori’s neck. In the wall off to the side of Dean and I, a long scratch came across the wall, and I flinched. Dean turned around and looked at it. We saw nothing, and I felt panic rise in my chest.

“Sam!”

I tossed him the rifle, and he threw the necklace at us. Dean caught it, shoved his rifle in my hand, and he ran back down the stairs. I shot at the space in front of the scratch. Nothing happened, and I was quick to reload as Sam took his shot. Lori cowered behind him, and I felt a sharp pain in my leg. I looked down to see the hook embedded in my leg. I felt myself pale, and my head got light.

“Sammy!” I cried out.

Sam pushed toward me and took a shot. The hook went from me to his forearm, and he hissed.

“Shit!” I growled, and Dean ran up the stairs.

He scooped me off my feet as Sam tried to tie his arm off.

“I’ve got you, baby girl. I’ve got you. It’s okay. He’s gone, he’s gone.” Dean whispered.

I winced, and curled into him. He shushed me again, and I let myself black out.

                                                      ***

“And you saw him, too? The man with the hook?”

“Yes, I told you. We all saw him, he hurt our baby sister and then he hurt him. We fought him and he ran.” Dean growled.

He had me in his hold. I hadn’t been hurt too bad, but it was, by Winchester luck, the same leg I had sprained. They had patched me up, and I was fine, but left stunned and scared. Sam was right next to me, arm wrapped up and already bleeding through. The paramedics left, and Sam scrambled away.

“And that’s all?” The sheriff asked.

“Yeah, that’s all.” I mumbled.

He nodded at me. “Listen. You and your brothers,”

Dean cut him off, “Oh, don’t worry, we’re leaving town.”

Dean fixed me in his grip and carried me over to the car. He helped me slide in, letting me curl my feet up on the seat as I cuddled up to his side. Dean’s head went up to the rear view mirror, and he stared.

“What’s he doing?”

“Just said goodbye. Here he comes.” Dean whispered. “He’s upset.”

Sam slid into the car with a somber look on his face. I forced myself to sit up and break the silence.

“Hey, Sams.” I pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Hi, baby girl.” He whispered.

“We could stay.” Dean offered.

Sam only shook his head, taking me from Dean holding me against himself. He pulled me in with a sigh, resting his head against mine. Dean looked back up at the rear view mirror, shook his head in disappointment, and drove off.

Previous Ep: Skin (1.06)

Previous fic: Dean the Birthday Boy

Next Ep: Bugs (1.08)

[horror-heks]

Happy October!!!!

In honor of my favourite month, October, I'll be posting a movie, horror icon/character, or mytholgical/folklore creature everyday that puts me in that fun and spooky mood leading up to Halloween 🎃🎃👻💀👻🎃🎃

October 24....

Urban legends and folklore

Urban and folklore legends have been passed around for generations. From word of mouth, books and now even more with social media. With each generation new stories are created and the classics are changed around or enhanced for the times.

Although legends and folklore stories can be entertaining, they usually are stories of troubling and strange events. Unexplained disappearances, people in peril, mysterious objects, and paranormal events. Urban legends can be be stories to deal with social anxieties of the time, such as the urban legend of waking up finding a kidney missing in a hotel room, as well as morals. I'm going to highlight three of my favourite urban legends and folklore stories I had heard as a child.

When a Stranger calls from 1979 stars Carol Kane as Jill, babysitter who keeps receiving strange phone calls from a strange person. "Have you checked the children?" the strange monotone voice asks then hangs up. The plot is derived from the urban legend "The babysitter and the man upstairs," from the 1960s, in which a babysitter is watching the kids and while they sleep she receives several creepy then menacing phone calls.

The police inform her the calls are coming from inside the house. The ending varies sometimes, she either gets away and the children have already been murdered while the killer was calling. Other versions are it was the kids playing a prank, or the babysitter saves the children, but in some the babysitter is murdered as well.

Regardless of what version you hear, it's a creepy and terrifying story nonetheless. One of my favourite versions was the version from Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark first book. The babysitter and children are watching t.v. and the caller this time says that he will be visiting them shortly.

Skinned Tom is an urban legend originating in rural Tennessee. Being from Tenn. it's one that I remember hearing and being told at Halloween and Fall events. According to legend, Tom was a very charming and handsome man who would win over every girl in town, so he therefore moved on to other surrounding towns. He eventually struck up a romance with a beautiful woman named Eleanor, who was married and kept up a secret affair. One evening, the couple was at the local lover's lane doing what people do there, and Eleanor's husband, who had learned if their affair, followed and skinned Tom alive.

This gif is from Hellraiser, best visual description for Skinned Tom I could think of.

The story ending varies with each telling, sometimes the husband murders Eleanor but makes her watch the skinning, or he lets her go, but she reports her husband and he's locked away. In any version, there is always the skinning of Tom by the angry husband, and it's now an urban legend and morality story don't go to lover's lane especially having an affair, the bloody skinned suit wearing Tom will get you!

Again from Hellraiser, but I think this is what Skinned Tom would look like if real.

The Bell Witch is more of a folklore story that has been passed around since the 19th century. Near the small town of Adams, Tennessee from 1817-1821 the Bell family was terrorized by a spirit calling herself Kate. The spirit could shapeshift, had immense strength and would throw things and taunt the family with cruel jokes and songs. There was even an account of a hellhound or wolf and other creatures on the property. Most of the physical abuse was towards John Bell Sr and his daughter Betsy, while on the other hand the spirit was very kind towards Lucy and had a caring attitude with her. There were many stories and rumours as to what or who the witch could be and why she left after so many years. After John Sr died, the spirit seemed to be content and after a few non violent visits and disembodied conversations Kate left the remaining Bell family alone.

The property and cave that sits on in in the woods is still not immune to strange occurances though. It sitting on a Native American burial ground, and having such a dark history more than just a witch roams.

The Bell Witch cave can be a suppressing and foreboding place to visit or ghost hunt. Several accounts and personal experience have shown it's not peaceful as it's surrounding countryside.

[peppusae]

[kth] lavender honey ch. 7

note: this fanfic has multiple chapters, so please look forward to more!

lavender honey: kim taehyung x reader

genre: crack, fluff, college au, smut

word count: 3k words

>

lavender honey

ch 7: in which taehyung achieves his dream of world dominance. at least... in the world of your stupid thoughts.

The drive back is filled with jazz music.

Taehyung sits at the passenger seat, half-pouting at a stubborn Namjoon who did not give in, even when the younger male had asked him to rest.

So, instead, Taehyung continues to jam to jazz music and acting as if you all were inside a karaoke box. It’s lively for a change, so you find yourself giggling as you exchange chats with Jungkook here and there.

When a slow song comes on and Namjoon’s gaze goes to the way Taehyung’s deep voice sings the soft song, you put your phone down and listen to the younger male as well. You couldn’t see his face from your seat in the back seat, but you became acutely aware of some little details that you had never noticed before.

Kim Taehyung has the most beautiful shoulders, it fits his posture and build really well. It

You notice for the first time that his hair is growing out, a mullet of sorts.

Shit. That’s hot.

The nape of his neck is so smooth, and you can see the veins in his neck as he sings the song in a very sorrowful voice.

Oh.

This is too much, seriously.

Your subconscious mind, Minji is being extra horny today.

You shut your eyes tight and try to get the nasty visions your nastyass brain was forming in your head as far away from you as possible.

>

And then, you wake up.

You could feel a huge cramp on the left side of your neck, and when you begin to stretch the pain away, you realize that you’re still inside the car, and someone was next to you.

“T-Taehyung?”

“Ah, my dear cauliflower. You finally decided to wake up?”

Cauliflower?

That isn’t even worth questioning..

You yawn in response, stretching yourself a little and looking outside. “Ah, we reached? Where’s Joon?”

“He’s inside. For now, let’s get off.” Taehyung says, and you nod, opening the door and the two of you climb outside.

“Wait. How is it already night, we left from Ilsan in the evening, and the drive shouldn’t have taken more than half an hour, and you were in the passenger seat so why were you in the back just now-”

“You really should leave that nasty habit you have of dumping ten billion questions at once.” He has to say. “And you use varying registers for each word and it hurts my ears.”

“I use varying what?!”

“Anyway. Go back in, here’s the key to the car.” Taehyung says, throwing it at you and you manage to catch in. Score! “I’ll head off home. Rest well today, yeah?”

It’s kinda annoying that he wouldn’t wait for a response. Maybe it’s a guy thing. To say something cool and then turn around and walk off. Taehyung even has his hands in his pockets like the thug wannabe kid he probably is, as well. Is that a trend, now?

You watch him bring the door of the gate to a close, and then walk off, and honestly. Peach is such a hot color on him.

It’s kinda stupid, but peach is perfect on Taehyung’s hair because it makes him look beautiful during bright light, and very… attractive, at night, when the light is fading and the hue of peach darkens a little.

Why are you thinking about Taehyung’s hair at a time like this, what even.

You heave out a big sigh, opening the door and getting inside your house. You find Namjoon in his room, by his study desk, and he watches you take a seat on his bed.

“So. You slept in the car for two hours. How do you feel?”

“I what ?!”

“Yes you did. You fell asleep right after Taehyungie finally started driving, and I was gonna wake you up but he didn’t want to. So he stayed with you until you woke up.”

This makes your mouth wide open in shock, wondering just why on Earth he would stay for so long, when he could have just woke you up and asked you to go to bed at your own home.

See. This is going to go on to the list of the 54920435 things that will forever baffle you, in regards to Kim Taehyung. The mysteries are endless, and if someone is gonna do urban legends on the 21st century in the year 3829, you feel bad at how many things they’ll have to learn about Taehyung.

So instead, you wish Namjoon a good night and retire to your room, where you stare at the ceiling for God knows how long, before you fall asleep again.

>

‘Noona. Are you back? Can I call you?’

A text is waiting for you when you wake up on Sunday morning.

A couple seconds after you reply with a ‘yes’, Jungkook makes the call.

Not just sexy but also a reliable man! What a catch!!

“I… I found out Taehyungie-hyung went to Ilsan to visit you… I had no idea, Noona. If I knew, I’d have gone with him, as well.”

You shake your head, giving him a smile in response. Wait a sec. This is a phone call bro.

Oh yeah.

“It’s fine, Kookie. I’m fine, really. I just had a hard day, but I’m okay, now. Joon is, too.”

“Noonim. If you don’t have other plans, I’d like to prepone our date for tomorrow, to today.”

“I’d like that, Jungoo.”

“I’ll pick you up in an hour, Noonim.” Jungkook says, before he hangs up.

He shows up five minutes early.

Your mouth is an ‘o’ like those naan you crave to perfect when Joon announces that Jungkook has shown up. Since you were not finished getting ready yet, you ask Namjoon to bring the kid inside till you finish.

Since finding out that Jungkook feels… that…. Uh? Positive… Wanna-go-out kind of feelings towards you, you find yourself changing a little in the sense that your allowance each month goes towards buying beauty products instead of useless junk food.

You even bought one of those stupid… tweezers…

Bruh. What were you even becoming?

Jeon Jungkook is quite famous among the freshmen, and you’ve had some of your classmates ask about what your relationship was, when you two had been wearing the totally-obvious-as-fuck clothing on your first date day.

What really was your relationship with Jungkook? Even Taehyung had asked the same question and you didn’t really have much of a solid answer to give.

Oh shit. That might have been the first time you didn’t have a good answer to give to Kim Taehyung.

Dammit. You really hope Seokjin manages to prepare that memory-erasing potion he fantasizes on creating. It’d be nice to wipe that memory away from his head.

And also that time when you came down to the living room to get ice after you’d finished waxing and you were only wearing your towel around your body and Taehyung had been chillaxing with Namjoon and discussing which member from Stranger Things went through the most development.

That’s some quality discussion, now that you think about it.

You also hope you could erase the memory of him watching you slather on makeup for your first date. Crazy as shit, but you still think about that… disappointed expression on his face.

Is this what doom feels like?

Now that you think some more, you’d probably use the potion on erasing only things related to Taehyung.

Why are we even (silent) discussing fantasy potions even, how is Seokjin gonna create a memory-erasing potion when he can’t even figure out and notice how obvious it is that Namjoon likes him back.

Send help now.

You shake your head and race down the stairs after you get ready. Jungkook is sitting on the sofa next to Namjoon, and you didn’t even know that Taehyung hadn’t left for home yet.

So, the two Kim boys and one Jeon boy are just chilling around the coffee table, playing uno.

Uno? L a m e.

Okay, Uno isn’t really lame, but you were expecting them to do something more wild and less mediocre… Maybe having a mini parkour marathon.

Okay, you’ve watched way too much of prince of stride episodes.

Jungkook looks up when you finally come over to the living room.

“Noonim!”

“Noonim?!” Namjoon’s voice echoes in startlement. Out of context, sure, that sounds a bit weird. Who even calls people that anymore, this is the age of blossoming Noona-romances, after all-

Minji does a double flip in your head, so you tell her to calm the fuck down.

“[Name]-noona is older than me, of course. So-”

“I know that, but why specifically Noonim, is my question-”

“Your sister has some nastyass kinks, dearest Hyung of mine.” Taehyung has to say, before he puts a card down and screeches ‘UNO’ at the top of his lungs.

Jungkook looks very flustered and takes a glance at you, too embarrassed to look at Namjoon and instead looks at Taehyung with a small pout.

Seriously, Taehyung really needs to grow up.

Wait.

If Taehyung does any more of growing up, his voice is probably gonna be deeper and his shoulders broader and his-

Minji needs to shut the fuck up oh my good god.

“Shut up!” You hiss at Taehyung. What was he even doing here anyways? Doesn’t he have an apartment that has been paid to keep him inside it? Why can’t he do one single job?

“L-Let’s go, Noona?” Jungkook says, and you nod. He still looks to embarrassed after Taehyung’s remark, to look at Namjoon, so he simply says ‘I’ll be off, Hyung’ instead and stands up. You pull on his sleeve a little and Jungkook lets you pull him out as you stomp out of the house, feeling a little bit annoyed.

“It’s nice to know that you’re not too gloomy. I’m sure your grandpa is at a better place now, so don’t put yourself through any pain. He isn’t suffering either.”

Those are such comforting words, and you almost tear up and ruin your mascara at the way Jungkook looks a little worried.

“I won’t. Where are you taking me, Jungoo?”

The nickname makes him smile, showing his front teeth and he looks so adorable that you can’t stand it. How can he have such burly arms but such doe eyes and bunny teeth like that?

Some men get ALL the luck.

Jungkook interrupts your worry towards the rest of the general male population by pointing at where his bike was parked at. After he makes sure you’ve gotten on his bike safely, he asks you to please be patient for a bit.

And then.

He takes you to an art gallery.

Jungkook takes you to an art gallery, filled with classical paintings.

The paintings there are so detailed, vibrant and beautiful, and they do nothing but remind you of Taehyung.

Okay. This is getting out of hand. When did this even start?

Is it because he came to attend your grandpa’s funeral?

Or because you both keep spending so much time together for your extra credit?

Is it because he’s the one you see the most after Namjoon?

Or is it simply nothing except the sole fact that he technically worships Vincent Van Gogh?

Jungkook seems to notice your fraying thoughts and lack of conversation between you two.

“Noonim? Are you upset about what Taehyungie-hyung said?”

“No! That’s not it! I’m so sorry Taehyung said that. He’s really stupid, he doesn’t realize what he’s saying when he speaks!!”

Jungkook reacts belatedly, his stare on you for a couple seconds before he then says, ‘Was it a lie?’

“What-”

“You know what I’m talking about, Noona~” He sings, and this makes you punch his arm playfully, your face heating up.

Of course, it’s a kink.

Jungkook himself is a kink, after all.

You were so glad you didn’t say that out loud.

Minji has some issues today.

Daylight changes to city lights in the matter of a couple hours while the two of you laze around at a coffee shop and sip on frothy coffees.

While Jungkook drives you back home and you have your hands clutching onto two handfuls of his sweater, you take a good moment to think about your day.

And it’s very upsetting for you when you realize how different this date was from your first date with Jungkook, how much less the conversations had become, and you wonder if Jungkook would still be interested in taking you out if you keep having other thoughts and memories splurging around in your mind like crazy.

“Noona, next week, can I take you to the grass fields a couple blocks from my apartment? It’s really pretty there, and I want to take you there and then take you home.”

“W-What?!”

Holy shit, you could almost see Minji starting to strip, in your head.

You nasty.

“Ah! I- I really need to learn to rephrase my wordings better.” Jungkook says with a facepalm. Minji is putting her clothes back on when he goes on. “I want to show you what I do. Like, what I’m drawing and what kind of videos I make.”

“Oh.”

“You sound a bit disappointed, Noona.”

“Don’t be too cocky.” You respond, and this earns a big grin from Jungkook, and he hurries to intertwine your fingers together. “Now that I think about it, even if we’ve known each other for a while, I haven’t really been able to see much of your drawings.”

“That’s right! I want to show you so that you’d be impressed!” He gushes. “I always want to take pictures of you that I can sketch, if I have your permission. I have the whole date all planned!”

This makes you giggle, the two of you taking a seat at the porch of your house. It was nice that he didn’t want to leave just yet and thought the same thing you did.

“I also have one more date all planned out! That’s for the next next week, though.”

“What’s that date for?”

“I want to sit by the beach with you for the whole day.”

Your heart swells. Aigoo. How can someone be that cute? You’re almost afraid of asking, because you weren’t sure how much your fragile heart could handle this cute little baby boy.

“And the week after that?”

“Well…” He says, glancing at you, and then getting up. “Let’s let you decide that.”

You give him an ok sign, and the two of you glance at the door.

“I should get going,” Jungkook says, carding his fingers through your hair and looking a little disappointed. “Go in first, Noona. I’ll see you at college tomorrow.”

“Drive safe, Jungoo. I had fun today. With you.”

This makes him smile, and you’re expecting the action much earlier than it actually starts, when he holds your hands tight and then leans in to kiss you.

The taste of banana milk still remains on his lips, and the way one hand softly holds your cheek tenderly makes your heart race a little as you kiss him back and wrap an arm around his neck.

Your first kiss! With Jeon Jungkook!

It’s such a new warmth, and it still stays, even when Jungkook moves away a little, his hold changing into a hug while he looks at your face.

“That was my first kiss, Noonim.” He confesses, bursting into a huge grin.

“That was my first kiss too, Jungoo.”

“What?! Are you serious?” He looks surprised, but doesn’t let you go, and you look up at him and give him a nod.

“I’m a happy, and very lucky man, then. I… I like this, and this is definitely not a platonic feeling.”

Your heart races a little, and the fact that Jungkook has both his arms around your waist is not helping. You really couldn’t concentrate, and the fact that you two were still standing at the porch of your house makes you a little nervous about Namjoon or Taehyung seeing you two.

Ah. That was quite a lot of time that went by without you thinking about Taehyung.

Did Minji sign a contract with him or what-

“Let’s see what happens, Noona. Let’s go on dates and find out what we feel. Are you okay with me?”

“Okay is not enough as an adjective to describe how I feel about you.”

“That makes me glad.” Jungkook joins you and chuckles, and then he takes a step away. “Go inside first, and I’ll text you when I go home.”

“Bye, Jungkook- Wait. You have some of my lipstick on your lips!” You say, noticing the uneven red on his lips now.

“What? Really?!”

When you reach a hand to his face, he takes a step back, shaking his head a little.

“K-Keep it.”

“But-”

“Ah, Noona~ Don’t make your Jungoo more embarrassed!” He whines cutely, and you’re surprised that you aren’t on the floor as melted goo right now.

The two of you wave goodbye, and Jungkook heads back home with a big smile on his face.

There’s no one downstairs, and you’re still recovering from the little high you were on because of Jungkook. As you walk upstairs and head to your room, you see that Namjoon’s room door was open.

Now, you had zero intentions on eavesdropping on what was going on, but when you hear ‘Do you like someone, Taehyung-ah?’, you can’t just walk past or interrupt the conversation, right?

Yeah! You’re doing the right thing! Who knows how much Namjoon might have worked to finally ask this question.

Yeah! It’s all for your bro’s sake!

“My… my chances are rare, hyung. I might want to hold tight, the person I like, but I can’t. Not when things are going well for her with the person she likes. I don’t want to be the person that ruins things for the one person I have the hardest time staying away from, you know?”

[notyourbae365]

I was LIVING for all the classic horror movie and urban legend references in the Halloween episode of Riverdale-

Laurie Strode- Halloween

Dracula

Have you checked the children

The call is coming from inside the house

“Elm street”, which isn’t really a reference cause that’s actually the name of their street (ha) but it feels like one on Halloween

Scream (the phone calls)

And probably more that I missed

[doomedandstoned]

Closer To The End (part II)

~By Billy Goate~

Art by Ruso Tsig

Everyone has bouts of sadness, loneliness, heartache. For better or worse, it's a part of the human condition. There was some discussion after my last article about whether depression is something we can choose to walk into or away from -- like a bad attitude -- or whether in some people it may be more deeply ingrained in the psychological makeup, whether by nature or nurture. I thought it would be helpful to give you a window into my own background so you can understand when depression first made itself manifest and the different strategies taken to deal with it over the years.

Banished from this world, and from its toil I can only watch, grieve and pity Stare at stupid likes, wonder at people's smiles

I get more and more stress Nothing anyone can offer, more or less Done grieving, closer to the end

DON'T KNOW WHY

I vaguely recall spells of melancholy in childhood. The return from summer camp to a boring home with mom vacuuming and dad at work had me feeling quite empty and blue. It was a strange, bewildering state of mind to be in. Mom told me to snap out of it or else. There were a few moments that shattered my reality as a child. Realizing, for instance, that mom and dad were having marital problems. Hearing my pastor of a father say a swear word. Often, I would be startled awake in the dead of night to my mom shrieking at my dad, throwing dishes, insisting that he was against her. My dad was a patient man and knew that all was not right in her world. These things jolted me into new layers of reality, each accompanied by periods of moodiness and anxiety.

By the time I was in the 4th grade, I started having trouble in school. I was placed in one of those "talented and gifted" programs, though I never really understood why. I knew I couldn't see what my teachers were writing on the chalkboard. Panicked, I would ask students nearby what the hell the teacher was writing, only to be scolded for distracting the class. One particular teacher was downright mean to me, until she found out that I was having vision problems and needed glasses. Once she realized I was also the son of a preacher man, she tripped all over herself to be kind. Maybe she felt guilty?

Something else odd happened around this time. I came home with division homework one day and just decided not to do it. I don't remember if it was because my parents were too busy to help or I was just too stubborn to ask. There was no rational reason for it. The next day, I was shamed in front of the entire class by an Admiral Ackbar looking mother fucker named Mr. Davis. "Billy Joe, why didn't you do your homework?" he demanded. "Why?" His hand lifted my chin, forcing me to stare up into his beady little eyes peering menacingly behind his spectacles. Mr. Davis' rosy complexion turned beat red when I answered: "I...don't know."

I don't know anything I don't know anything I don't know anything I don't know who I am

I don't know anything I don't know anything I don't know anything I don't know who to be

SATANIC PANIC

My parents were tethered to a particularly pernicious strain of fundamentalist Christianity that got caught up in the "Satanic Panic" of the 1980s. That meant no D&D for me! Urban legends were shared in Sunday school and from the pulpit about young people who had necked because their character "died" in this forbidden game. It was the most sinister proxy for evil that I could envision at that time.

The Satanic Panic put everything else under the microscope: toys, comic books, and popular music were all suspect. A copy of Phil Phillip's 1986 "expose" Turmoil In The Toybox lay on the coffee table, pages well-worn and highlighted. He-Man, G.I. Joe, even Star Wars were viewed as tools of the Devil to recruit a desensitized generation of youth into his heathen horde. I'd wake up from one day to learn about something else I couldn't have, play, watch, or do. Video games would not be far behind.

One day, my mother caught me rocking out to the Scorpions in my room and immediately confiscated my radio, outlawing metal from the house (and basically anything with a rock 'n' roll beat). MTV lasted only long enough for me to be exposed to Metallica's visceral "One" and Guns 'n' Roses' "Welcome To The Jungle." While the classic days of rock's infancy were viewed as a time of innocence (I don't think my folks really got what "Blueberry Hill" by Fats Domino was about), anything stemming from the late '60s counterculture forward was viewed as dangerously corrupting.

Various factions within the church began playing games of connect-the-dots with the songs of Jefferson Airplane, Led Zeppelin, and Black Sabbath, tying them into a subservice plot by Luciferian cults and the shadowy elite (at that time Communists -- a favorite boogeyman of the era) who were trying to undermine undermining of God, family, and country by subverting its youth. All of popular culture was roped in with the conspiracy, too. Though the house was cleansed of its ungodly influence, the worst was still ahead.

Soon, my mother started cutting me off from neighborhood friends and finally pulled me out of public school altogether around middle of 5th grade. She had learned about this radical new response to America's failing education system through friends from another church who had just taken their own children out of school. Emboldened, she began homeschooling us in West Texas in the mid '80s, during a time when it wasn't a clearly legal practice. Every time the doorbell rang my siblings and I would run and hide, thinking the truant officer had come to take us away to foster care. I didn't understand at the time what I do now: my mother was mentally ill. Furthermore, she was in over her head. This became apparent when she tried to take on the role of teacher.

While I am extraordinarily grateful for the year or two of solid education she gave me (particularly in the writing and public speaking departments, two areas she and my father were naturally gifted in and which have been the buttress of my career), it wasn't long until she became frustrated with the Abeka and Bob Jones University curriculum we were using. One day, when I was struggling with algebra, she declared that we wouldn't have to learn it. "After all, who actually uses algebra in daily life?" she wondered. We were now self-directed learners, a radical new idea that was controversial even in the homeschooling movement ("un-schooling," they called it). Of course, I wasn't allowed to just sit around and watch TV. Consequently, I shifted my focus to the things that were more interesting to me: music, art, history. Math and science? Not so much.

STOCKHOLM SYNDROME

For years, I remained blithely unaware of what was happening in the world around me in the world of music. I lived in Arlington during the rise of Pantera, Topeka during one of Guns ‘n’ Roses most controversial shows, and Oregon during the height of the grunge era and the sunsetting of the Grateful Dead -- all of it veiled from notice. My life was devoted to church and, if anything, I tried to convince fellow Christians to separate themselves from the tainted allure of the fool’s gold of popular music, television, and video games. For a while, I was a true believer. Call it Stockholm Syndrome, if you like. Infractions of the moral code -- and the slightest temperament of rebellion -- were met with a freshly cut switch, which would leave stinging welts up and down my calves, tights, arms, and back. Thus my conscience was conditioned.

I remember happening upon the pornographic scene in George Orwell’s 1984 and afterwards feeling that the only right and proper thing to assuage my guilt was to burn the everlasting shit out of this smut. Even then I loved the novel, but I couldn't reconcile my faith with this section of it, so I purged it in the flame of backyard trash barrels. At my most fervent, I also lit the match to a stack of MAD Magazines and comic books. As harmless as they might have seemed to the average Joe blinded to the wiles of the Devil, these were gateways into realms of the flesh. “Walk in the spirit, not the flesh,” I recited to myself as fire brandished the yellowed pages of print, slowly turning them black until they were embers caught up by the wind and scattered into the sky. True story: I once threw away a perfectly good copy of Downward Spiral after one hearing the demonic screams of "Becoming" (not to mention the brash blasphemy of "Heretic").

The me that you know doesn't come around much That part of me isn't here anymore

The me that you know is now made up of wires And even when I'm right with you I'm so far away

This kind of extreme separation from the world really fucked me up socially. For years, I couldn't hold on a conversation with another person my age. What would we talk about? I was clueless about anything happening in the world of sports, music, television, or the culture at large. Even though conversation is no longer a problem for me, I still feel odd about friendships. I have an irrational fear that they're going to be taken away from me at any moment, so I keep everyone at a comfortable arm's length. At times, intimacy feels painfully awkward.

Maybe this is why I'm so notorious for leaving shows immediately following the last song. I’ll give my smiles, shake hands, and say goodbye, but avoid sticking around long enough to really get to know people. I’ve been invited to crash on couches to avoid the long drive home, but I always politely decline. Certainly, I don’t want to come across as rude, I just feel like an outsider to the world -- someone who just doesn’t fit in, doesn't belong. Not now, not ever.

TEENAGE ANGST HAS PAID OFF WELL

As I reached my adolescent years, I began going through prolonged spells of melancholy. The prospect of sharing this with others was extraordinarily embarrassing, so I kept it all bottled up inside. Mostly, I tried walking it out on long excursions through the open field next to our house. I worked through a lot of issues during that time and credit those walks with helping me to keep my sanity. As a matter of fact, I recommend daily constitutionals to everyone as a general principle of good mental health. It would be a mistake not to mention that my belief in an omnipresent God at this time played a medicinal role in helping me to cope with my depression, though my views on religion would one day reverse course.

By 18, symptoms of major depression surfaced like a noxious weed and even God could not get me through it. I prayed, too. God, how I prayed, sometimes hours on end. That year, I fell into a downcast mood that refused to dissipate and remained there for months -- four of them straight. I sought refuge in the music of Tchaikovsky, working my way from the fateful Symphony No. 4 to his Symphony No. 6, the Pathétique. The sounds I was hearing tapped into a new emotional alphabet, impossible to transcribe into any tongue. It was remarkable: somehow the music knew precisely what I was feeling. I finally had a soundtrack to my depression.

One day, a buddy and I joined the military on a whim, though he'd later get disqualified for asthma. I felt the Army would provide a much needed "Be All You Can Be" boost to my confidence and a crash course in normie life. I shipped down range to my duty station, Fort Benning, Georgia, for infantry training. My new home would be with Charlie Company, 2nd Battalion, 58th Infantry Regiment -- the infamous "House of Pain." In the space of 14 weeks, I was exposed to every aspect of humanity imaginable. From the "shark attack" welcome of the drill sergeants on Sand Hill to the rude middle of the night awakenings for physical training, I was in shock most of the time. Slowly, though, I eased into this strange new world and got my bearings.

Almost a full month into this prison world, we were allowed to visit one of the on-base shopping exchanges. I immediately looked for a CD player and began checking out the music section, trying to see if there were names I recognized. "Guns 'n' Roses? Sure they're cool," shrugged my buddy Bradley, a floppy-eared Gomer Pyle looking dude. "But you really need to check out some Soundgarden, dude." I did, picking up their latest, Down On The Upside, and it was like salve to my soul. The music spoke of being trapped ("...and I don't like what you've got me hanging from") and being eternally at odds with the world ("Born without a friend and bound to die alone"). There was even a song about "Boot Camp," the short album closer. The nihilistic despair was strangely comforting.

I must obey the rules I must be tame and cool No staring at the clouds I must stay on the ground In clusters of the mice The smoke is in our eyes Like babies on display Like Angels in a cage I must be pure and true I must contain my views There must be something else There must be something good far away Far away from here And I'll be there for good For good

The song did not resolve happily, and I feared my life wouldn't either. After a serious injury left me permanently wounded, I began to feel my life wasn't being guided by the Hand of God of all, but the random throes of Fate. Maybe they were the same thing. I resigned myself to the misery of a long recovery, during which time I had to learn to walk again. It's a three beer kind of story, maybe I'll share it sometime. Probably not. Returning to civilian life proved to be even more of an adjustment than the military had been, and my shadows of depression lingered with me even as I tried to remain one step ahead of them.

MELANCHOLIA

I have long held a theory that human beings are not built for the world that we have constructed for ourselves. Whether we're talking Seattle traffic or the constant buzz of social media, the frantic pace of our rapidly evolving technocracy has left us a worried, frazzled mess. The studies are conclusive: almost one in five have experienced depression and one in four struggle with anxiety, with PTSD being a household acronym.

A counselor once asked if I enjoyed being depressed. I found it a bit of a repulsive question. I can tell you that there is nothing glamorous about depression. There's no reason to idolize the angst of those sad Kurt Cobain eyes. Everyone has experienced feelings of being bummed out, and for most folks it is a transitory feeling. It comes when one of life's storms arises and leaves when the situation resolves itself. There's a whole section of us, however, for whom the dark clouds never leaves. It just hovers around our heads, like the oppressive, low-hanging specter of an Oregon winter.

Depression isn't always about feeling sad, either. Often it manifests in a general malaise -- you can't bring yourself to care about the things you used to. Other times, it works in tandem with anxiety, seizing your heart at the thought of all the day holds in store, then punishing you with the feeling of dread. We may feel sad, anxious, or fearful and not be able to give a rational explanation for it. In those moments, I cannot imagine a more miserable place to be. With that said, I hasten to add that my description of depression may not align with your own, as it is an intensely personal experience.

Release your head from the world Keep yourself underground No one understands your mind

Humans programmed like robots Making sure you don't belong No one understands your mind

I suspected I had depression in the clinical sense, when I realized that though I wanted to feel better, all I could do was subsist in the misery. Those of you who've been able to talk yourself out of such states will scoff. My mother, who suffers from a host of afflictions that have never been properly diagnosed, was notorious for telling us kids to "snap out of it." I do understand that kind of no-nonsense perspective. Her father and mother were staunchly independent homesteaders of the WWII generation who braved the untamed wilderness of Alaska and the exotic dangers of Australia. The '60s and '70s generation grew up fearful of losing such independence to mental institutions that locked up people, merely because they acted in ways society didn’t understand. The stigma of psychiatric care was every bit as real as the stigma of mental illness. Thus, her approach was quite practical: take Saint John's Wort, get on a good diet of vegetables and fruits, drink plenty of water, get fresh air and exercise. If that doesn’t work, there’s always Jesus.

Despite plenty of prayer and a multitude of home remedies, depression continued plaguing my mind. People frustrated by what they viewed as an easy fix would imply that depressed folk like me just wanted to be depressed, maybe because it got them attention or they were just spoiled rotten. Soon I stopped sharing altogether. As one friend of mine, a real no-nonsense type, told me: “No one cares. You have to get on with your life.” “How do you manage that?” I asked. “What's your secret?” “You just have to shrug it off,” she concluded. I envied the cold, pragmatic stoicism and wished that I could just shrug my shoulders and let everything slide off. At one point, my depression was so acute, I looked into electroconvulsive therapy, memory loss be damned. During my consultation with a specialist, I learned the procedure had advanced since Jack Nicholson’s unfortunate end as a mental patient in One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest. Ultimately, I decided against it.

SEARCH FOR ANSWERS

As with most human situations, our problems stem from a complex mixture of nature and nurture. I posed a question to my psychology professor one day: "Does depression cause us to think depressing thoughts or do depressing thoughts cause us to be in a state of depression?" His answer surprised and relieved me. "Both," he said.

In Psychology 202, we were in the midst of a chapter on depression and other mental disorders. Having recently experienced the loss of my grandmother, I was feeling especially hopeless and decided to ask my prof another burning question at the end of class. "If a person were to see a therapist, does it go on his record?" In my mind, counseling was for the weak and hideously broken. "Not at all," he responded with a smile. "Even psychologists seek help from other psychologists for their depression and anxiety." Then he really blew my mind: "I have a therapist myself. See her once a month. Sort through a lot of life decisions that way." He also assured me that there was no master file of such visits. While a therapist might keep her own notes, it's certainly not something shared with employers and as a rule is kept strictly confidential, as are all medical records.

My first visit to a counselor was nothing like I'd imagined. I wasn't given pills, invited to lay on a couch and look at ink blots, or even asked questions about my parents. Instead, the counselor initiated an open-ended conversation that encouraged me to articulate the tangled mess of thoughts and feelings I'd been bottling up inside. It was the first time I'd ever talked about my experiences in the military or about the emotional upheaval of my childhood. I felt liberated after just a few weeks of these sessions. For a time, I felt very much on top of my problems. Maybe this counseling thing wasn't so bad after all. I even began to recommend it to my friends and stood up for psychologists when mom would bash the profession in one of her trademark rants.

Promises abound You rarely find it to begin Maybe I'm afraid To let you all the way in

I excuse myself I'm used to my little cell I amuse myself In my very own private hell

I noticed a pattern to my depression: it seemed to be triggered by situations in which I felt helplessly incapable of controlling my environment, decisions, and destiny. You know, other people taking advantage of me, a nightmare roommate, an overbearing boss, unrequited love -- that sort of thing. It was like a switch flipped and all of the sudden the feelings flooded in and surrounded me for days, even weeks.

Feelings of loneliness and disquiet were often compounded by negative thinking about the situation. "What's wrong with me that I can't find someone to be with? Am I that unattractive or uninteresting?" The negative self-talk wasn't helping my situation. In some ways, it even turned out to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. I'd walk around with a scowl on my face, prompting friends and family to constantly ask, "What's wrong? Is everything ok?" That's why I realized it may take more muscles to frown than to smile, but that undersmile sure is a lot more comfortable. No wonder people kept themselves at bay.

I actually started practicing my smile in the rearview mirror on the way to school every day, just so I remembered what that felt like. Fake it 'til you make it, the saying goes. Even if I was feeling like a miserable wretch inside, I certainly didn't want to betray those feelings to the world outside. So I got good at being a fake. When people asked, "How's it going?" I'd say, "Fine, just fine, thanks. And you?" (One of my counselors would later call me on that every session: "How are things really?").

When I got married, depression reached peak levels, only now that oppressive, low-hanging cold front wouldn't burn off with the sunshine. The mood never lifted. It was with me 24-7. It wasn't unusual for me to be severely depressed during the normally halcyon days of summer. I knew something had to be done, so I confronted another long-time stigma of mine: medication.

To be continued...

This whole house of cards crumbling slow If I disappear would you even know? The trap is time and no one gets off of this ride alive

So far under Too much pain to tell And now I'm ripped asunder So far under

[sweetpeas-serpentprincess]

Ask: Joaquin and Toni

Toni Topaz - What weapon would you choose during a Zombie apocalypse?  this implies i wouldn't straight up die the moment i saw a zombie. i’m so fucking scared of zombies. also i know nothing about weapons? so a sword? a knife?  

Joaquin DeSantos - What urban legend scares you the most? the classics! like humans can lick too, the hook hand guy,the killer in the back seat. oooh, even “the calls coming from inside the house” i used to spend so much time reading them when i was younger. idk why. also i cant think of anymore but i know they're all in the urban legend movies.