#first-person thriller

[linuxgamenews]

REVEIL: A Thrilling First-Person Game Coming to Linux and Steam Deck

REVEIL is a first-person thriller game headed to Linux and Steam Deck while launching on Windows PC. Thanks to Pixelsplit's creative talents for bringing this experience to life. Available today on Steam. The REVEIL release is all thanks to Pixelsplit and Daedalic Entertainment for collaborating, along with Arina Tara for the soundtrack. It's not just any music; it's a collection of original songs that echo the spine-tingling vibe of REVEIL's story. And if you're into music as much as I am, you'll want to check out the Funhouse Edition. It's not just the full soundtrack; it's an extra six songs. Plus, it's a great way to support both the developers and the artist. Now, speaking of support, here is what is happening with the native build:

We use Unity with HDRP. Our main goal with Linux was to have a native version of the game ready for Steam Deck.

A quick heads up for those looking to dive into REVEIL on Linux – there's a bit of a snag. The native version seems to have a memory leak issue that causes some crashes after playing for a bit. The team at Pixelsplit did the right thing and reached out to Unity about this hiccup a while back, but it seems like they're still waiting to hear back. But don't worry, Steam Deck users! There's a solid workaround. You can play the Windows version using Proton. It works smoothly and doesn't have that memory leak problem. So, while the Linux issue gets sorted out, you can still play the first-person thriller without a hitch Now, let's dive into what makes REVEIL stand out. It's a blend of visual allure and mental gymnastics. The puzzles are diverse, the clues are baffling, and the whole experience will also mess with your head. You're stepping into the shoes of Walter Thompson, and believe me, it's a wild ride.

REVEIL | FearFest Trailer

You'll be exploring Walter Thompson's psyche and past, which gets increasingly murky and mysterious. The deeper you go, the more you're caught in a whirlpool of deceptive images, memory fragments, and bizarre visions. It's a puzzle you can't help but want to solve, even as hope fades. Your main drive? Finding Martha and Dorie. You've got to stay sharp, and also look for clues, and hang onto your sanity. Now, let's talk features. REVEIL isn't just playing a role; it's a deep psychological journey that makes you question everything. It's spread across five acts, each set in uniquely crafted settings. The first-person story is immersive while offering various puzzles and riddles that keep you hooked. Plus, it's stunning – the visual experience is a #madewithunity style. The narrative layers are impressive while blending psychedelic, biographical, and unsettling elements. The atmospheric touches, like paintings and posters, also brings the '60s circus era to life. The Funhouse Edition launches today. It's more than just a game; it's an experience, especially with its 60s circus-inspired setting that morphs into something surreal. REVEIL first-person thriller showed up at the Future Game Show and Fear Fest on Steam. And now, the wait is almost over – it launches today, March 6th for Windows PC. But offers Proton support for Linux with an intent to offer a native build on Steam. It's also priced at $17.99 USD / £15.29 / 17,99€ with the 10% discount. Dive into and experience this mind-bending journey. It's not just about playing; it's about immersing yourself in a story that promises to be as haunting as it is intriguing.

[hearts4werka]

Missing

Summary: it’s been six months since your sister went missing, everyone gave up on the investigation but you’re determined to find her no matter what but someone comes along the way… Genre: first person pov’s Stalker, missing person, thriller, horror, crime investigation, dark aesthetic, stalker romance, double pov Warnings: stalking, mentions of possible murder and torturous acts on children, mental health problems, dark fantasy dreams, exploration of the dark web, mention of an asshole boyfriend and possibly more that might trigger some readers. Read At Your Own Risk!

This is part 3 of the ‘Missing’ series!

7:00 AM

🤍 - Rosalla’s POV

The sun starts rising and the sun pools into my room through the windows as I wake up from my slumber with a weird feeling of soreness and bruised skin on the inner parts of my thighs.

Immediately ripping the duvet off the lower half of my body I slide down my pyjama pants to my mid-thighs, seeing several marks left behind on the inner skin of my thighs.

Inspecting it, confused on how the fuck did I get them? I don’t think I woke up in the middle of the night to go take a piss and even if did, I wouldn’t have bruises on my inner thighs.

Searching my mind for a presumable answer, I scout out one most reasonable answer that makes the most sense.

My stalker.

But what was he doing between my thighs?…

Realization hits me like a big bookshelf falling down, it’s obvious what he was doing there now. Immediately I pull my pyjama pants right back up and a weird feeling of my dark fantasies coming to life…

I’ve never confessed to something like this to anyone except for my now ex-boyfriend, one morning we were just cuddling in bed and I started to talk about a dream I had about a being chased down by a man in a mask and then being taken against my will.

That morning I had woken up all wet and horny so I asked my now ex-boyfriend if we wanted to try something like that, he looked at me and said I was fucked up in the head and proceeded to ignore me for two whole weeks which broke my heart.

Those two weeks I’ve spent at home eating ice-cream, watching romcoms and crying myself to sleep. Blaming myself for even having such dreams, such dark and twisted fantasies in the dark parts of my brain…

He was the one that broke up with me since I had felt seriously emotionally attachted to him, like he actually loved me but it all ended when he found out I have a stalker and he said he couldnt be seen with me, knowing theres some other man lurking and watching our every move somewhere in the dark shadows.

I finally get the strength to get out of bed and make my way over to the bathroom to take a refreshing morning shower. Thank god I have a day off today or I would not survive an hour at work.

Undressing myself I step into the shower, washing my spiraling thoughts taunting me in the dark depths of my mind down my body. Running a hand over my face I silence out all of the voices in my head all speaking at once and allow myself to finally relax and have a moment of peace.

| - 🍂 - |

7:47 AM

I’ve gotten out of the shower and thrown on some random clothes I found in my closet so I won’t sit in my pyjamas all day even though i was being close to doing that. A simple black tank top under an oversized off-shoulder gray hoodie with black sweatpants and mini uggs on my feets, my hair being put up lazily in a messy bun. ( outfit here )

I walk down the stairs and enter the kitchen, putting on some my hometown Spanish music on the speakers I start preparing some breakfast, my hips swaying from side to side each time I walk and when I'm standing they start to create circle, dancing to the music using my hips.

🖤 - Matthew’s POV

I watch her every move, every sway of her hips and move of her perfect body. She wont be able to escape me now ever since I've laid my eyes on her that one time, after I got home that day I did all of my research and found out as much as I could without her finding out.

Fuck, she sure knows how to move her hips.

Also I may or may not installed cameras in her house a few weeks after she became my newly found obsession but atleast I can keep an eye on her and protect my girl from any danger coming her way she may not know of. No one touches what’s mine.

Shes preparing breakfast, doing something normal in this moment and still manages to look even more gorgeous each time.

I sit back in my chair at my house, watching her from all different angles on numerous monitors on my wall from the cameras I have scarretered all over her house in those small and invisible spots she would never think to check.

A laptop is dismissently sitting on my lap with the dark web opened and the newly leaked video loading, I'm checking if the new victim isn't her missing sister by any chance and to hopefully track down the location of their new stay. I've been trying to catch those fuckers for some time now with my team and we've been close in the past but never close enough.

I'm moving my gaze from a goddess dancing in her kitchen to a gory, disgusting video of various of tortureous acts being preformend on children, why do I do this you may ask? I don't know it just sucked me into the dark layers of the world and once you go in, you can't get out.

| - 🍂 - |

10:25 AM

She’s already ate breakfast, had a dance party and singing competition with the voices in her head. Finally she’s now resting on the couch of her living room writing in a journal-like notebook with her cat Willow sleeping in her lap.

That journal holds some of her darkest secrets and I’ve somehow managed to get my hands on it one night, reading thought the different things she’s been through and establishing her ex-boyfriend is a total asshole and didn’t deserve her.

If I could I would teach him a goddamn lesson for treating her like the way he did and when I first found out I was close to actually bashing that motherfucker head with a brick but I kept myself under control and decided to leave it alone.

🤍 - Rosalla’s POV

I was just journaling in my notebook, it’s always felt therapeutic to me and helped me to find my peace or to drain my constantly spiralling thoughts onto paper so I don’t have to bottle them up inside of me.

My cat Willow is snuggly cuddled up on my lap, peacefully sleeping. I wish I could be so carefree with no worries on my head like her, maybe if I was a cat I wouldn’t constantly be burying myself in my thoughts?

As I try to relax, placing the journal down next to me the memories of me and my missing sister together flood back into my mind, clouding any other thought I might have had in there.

A single small tear swirls in my eye and falls down onto the delicate fur of my cat as I pet her back, smiling at the funny and wholesome memories we had together as tears start to prick my eyes.

I wish she was here with me.

authors note: I didn’t know how to end this, kinda ended on a sad note but I finally finished it and fed you my children, there’s more backstory here to go indeep with the characters pasts. Hope I didn’t make you wait long and hope you enjoyed this!

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Reblogs, likes are very much appreciated!

[rainboweemart]

Monsters was so good!! 👏👏

[horvival]

Condemned: Criminal Origins (2005)

[obstinaterixatrix]

saw a video title calling zero escape ‘the weirdest horror franchise’ and me & sister did start heckling. in fact upon reading and fully parsing the title, I did immediately yell “NORMIE” at the tv. I’m Sorry. And I’m Right.

[princesskealie]

well, can you believe it's that time again? somehow it's already been three months, and it's time for my mom to go back to the doctor...if you have a second, please send any prayers/positive vibes her way that the appointment goes smoothly so she can have a happy spring! 🙏🙏🙏

[personasdestinyy]

Sorrowful Love | Ch#5 | JJK

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; All he desires is vengeance.

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: thriller, angst, love at first sight, au! sexting

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook × Sena oc!

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: This story contains explicit language, graphic violence(murders, blood etc), and other mature content, If you are easily affected by such themes, it might be best to avoid reading it.

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.5k+

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭⇢

Jungkook's Pov:

I penned down the message, my very first thread, to my first prey, and I can't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through my veins. This moment has been a long time coming, a culmination of fifteen years of anticipation.

From my vantage point in the corner of the club, I fix my gaze upon him with a burning fury in my eyes. He's blissfully unaware, reveling in the company of those mindless sluts. He won't be able to savor these moments again, because this is the last time he will ever experience such joy. Here I am, eagerly waiting for the opportune moment when the whore beside me will remove her leg from my thigh. Her repulsive gummy scent makes me cringe, but I must endure the presence of these despicable people in order to witness the sheer delight on his face once he receives my message.

Finally ,she retracts her leg, and a frown creases her brows.

'shitty'

Clearly, my lack of attention has displeased her. But that's not my problem. She rises from the couch, stomping her feet on the ground in a silent plea for my attention, and thankfully, she leaves. Yet, being the man that I am, I once again choose to ignore her.

My fingers hovered over the 'send' button, With a sense of satisfaction and anticipation, I press the 'send' button, the message was on its way. A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I leaned back on the couch, crossing one leg over the other. Just as i settle on the couch, he pulled out his phone, his expression mirrored the one I had hoped for. His face tensed as he read the message, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for me.

'Never. You can never find me.'

Don't know why but suddenly anger surged through me, my hands clenching into fists so tight that my knuckles turned white, my blood rushing to my ears in a violent surge, and my breathing quickened. I knew I had to leave before things escalated. I settled the bill with the bartender, shooting one last fiery glance at him before heading for the door. His head was bowed, lost in his thoughts.

'kill him'

The thought flashed through my mind, The desire to take his life now and here consumes me, my heart yearns to fulfill this violent urge.. but I knew I had to bide my time. Revenge is a dish best served cold, and I am determined to make him pay.

The word 'Revenge' has consumed my thoughts completely, leaving no room for anything else.

As I make my exit in silence, leaving him in the sea of unease, I vowed to exact my vengeance in the most excruciating way possible. This time, they would know the true meaning of fear.

Her expression is a mix of dread, fear, and all other synonyms one could associate with being scared. She pleads for me to go away, tears cascading down her troubled face, making my nostrils flare with annoyance. God, women like her drive me crazy; it's why I can't stand them.

But, she was different. Despite her incessant chatter on the phone, she somehow managed to bring a smile to my face.

'fuck'

I can't dwell on these memories now. I need to stay focused on the task at hand and have to deal with the fucker who seems to have forgotten my warning, off enjoying himself with those whores.

As I stand up from the chair, she immediately senses my presence and her body starts trembling uncontrollably. The sound of my heavy black boots thudding against the floor fills the room, almost echoing her fear. I am completely clad in black, from head to toe, which only adds to the aura of darkness and intensity that surrounds me. With black leather pants hugging my legs, a full sleeve shirt and a sleek leather jacket covering my torso, black leather gloves covering my hands, a black cap crowning my head, and a black mask concealing my face, I become an embodiment of the shadows. Only my eyes are visible, but they reveal nothing except pure rage.

Stepping closer towards her, she becomes rigid, her body freezing in fear. Her voice quivers as she pleads, "Please, just leave" Her desperation hangs heavily in the air.

I raise my hand and she immediately shuts her eyes tightly, as if anticipating a blow. But I have no intention of hitting her, unless she decides to make a scene. Placing a finger to my lips, hidden behind the mask.

"Shhh," I hush, leaning in slightly. The next moments are crucial, and any sudden movement or sound from her could trigger an explosive reaction from me.

I was not like this, but the burning desire for revenge has consumed me to the point where all other emotions have faded away. I am like an empty vessel, engulfed in darkness.

She timidly opens her teary eyes, and I remove my finger from my lips.

"I have to make a call, so don't you dare to scream, If you scream, I'll make sure you regret it," I caution her, the threat evident in my gaze. Her body trembles even more than before, and I step back, reaching for my phone in the jacket pocket as I make my way to the door frame.

I dialed his number, eagerly waiting for him to pick up. After a few rings, he finally answered. As I brought the phone to my ear to listen to his voice, the woman behind me let out a loud scream.

'fucking shitty'

I glared at her, my eyes filled with anger. She quickly closed her mouth and burst into tears once again.

"What do you want, you bastard! Leave my wife alone, you asshole!" he shouted angrily on the other end of the line. The urge to silence both the husband and the wife by cutting out their tongues crept into my mind.

I cleared my throat and spoke in a calm, yet determined tone, "First of all, stop your motherfucking yelling, it won't help. Second, I need you to come home immediately. And third, if you bring anyone else with you, I will make sure your wife suffers a painful fate right in front of you. So, be smart and come alone in just 10 minutes,"

After giving him some specific instructions, I abruptly ended the call, leaving him to ponder my words in silence.

From my vantage point at the window, I observed his every move, how he maneuvered the car into the parking lot, how he swiftly snatch a gun from the dashboard before stepping out of the vehicle. The dimly lit surroundings failed to conceal the fear etched on his face, and I could almost feel the beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

When I entered the house, I intentionally left the door ajar to make a dramatic entrance. I scattered furniture and belongings to heighten the suspense, and it seemed to have worked as I could sense his frantic footsteps echoing through the ground floor as he checked every door, desperately searching for any sign of his wife.

A mischievous chuckle escaped my lips. I hadn't anticipated finding pleasure in these twisted games, and I'm surprised by the unexpected enjoyment I derived from these sinister acts. Revenge had been my initial motive, but the sheer satisfaction of instilling fear in my target is an unexpected bonus. As I approached the door, she let out another piercing scream. It was clear that she too sensed the presence of an individual.

'fucking fuck'

My anger intensifying as I turn around and walk toward her with heavy step. And then, without hesitation, I delivered a forceful slap across her face, rendering her unconscious. Her head hung low, a testament to the power I now wielded. I swiftly held ber face in my hand and silenced her mouth with a cloth, even though it served no practical purpose now.

After approximately 10 seconds, he sprinted towards the room, completely disregarding my presence. His sole focus was on reaching his wife, and the expression on his face mirrored the exact emotions I experienced when I was just a child. Without hesitation, he dropped both the gun and phone from his trembling hands as he knelt before her, gently cradling her face in his palms.

"Honey, please, wake up. Please wake up," he pleaded with a mixture of worry, rage, and terror evident in his voice. Desperation laced every word as he attempted to rouse his unconscious wife.

As he tenderly shook her shoulders, he anxiously inquired, "Who the fuck…?" His question remained unfinished as I swiftly swung a heavy bat, connecting with his head. The impact rendered him unconscious before he even had a chance to face the person responsible for the blow, me. The mere sound of his voice had become unbearable, piercing my ears like arrows and causing them to bleed.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally began to regain consciousness.

During his unconscious state, I had taken advantage of the situation and tied him to a chair, and shut his mouth with tape, all for my own advantage, of course.

To add a little surprise, I had also switched off the lights, plunging the room into darkness.

As he struggled to open his eyes, it took him what seemed like a hundred attempts before he finally succeeded.

'Thank fucking God'

Taking a moment to assess his surroundings, he soon realized that his wife was tied up in a chair right beside him.

'Ah, the game is about to begin.'

From the door frame, I watched the scene unfold, feeling bad for them that made me want to cry my heart out for their beautiful love story. But I remained hidden in the darkness, so he couldn't spot me.

He desperately tried to free himself, and I couldn't help but chuckle at his futile attempts. How hypocritical of him to believe he could escape my carefully laid trap. After a few failed tries, he finally came to a halt and turned his tear-filled eyes towards his wife. Well, I suppose it's my turn now.

With a flick of a switch, I turned on the lights, causing the room to flood with brightness. The sudden change made him instinctively shut his eyes, momentarily blinded by the illumination.

When he finally opens his eyes, they immediately lock onto me. I can see the confusion and fear in his gaze as he takes in my appearance. His body tenses up, but he still tries to shout through the tape covering his mouth. Suppressing a wave of laughter, I chuckle at his futile attempt, feeling a mix of amusement and pity for him.

With my gloved hands tucked away inside the pockets of my leather jacket, I walk purposefully towards him. Coming to a halt right in front of him, I lean down, ensuring my face is at the same level as his.

"All right, I'll remove the tape from your fucking mouth, but please don't yell. My ears are incredibly sensitive", I speak directly to him, in a low, commanding tone and making sure my words penetrate his consciousness. The intensity of my voice resonates from deep within my chest, leaving no room for doubt or disobedience.

Taking a step back, I straighten up. With a swift motion, I rip the tape from his mouth, causing him to hiss in pain. Despite witnessing his discomfort, I remain unaffected, my eyes filled with a mix of anger and determination.

"Why have you taken us hostage? What is it that you want from us, motherfucker?" he barks, his final words dripping with anger and it was hard not to feel myself getting worked up as well. These two idiots really dared to raise their voices at me.

In that split second, without thinking twice, I swung my fist and delivered a powerful blow to his jaw. The impact was satisfying, but I felt the sting reverberate through my hand. Gritting my teeth, I flexed my fingers and massaged the soreness away with my other hand.

"Well, well, well, looks like you need a reminder to keep that mouth shut," I sneered at him, my anger simmering beneath the surface. "I warned you not to yell, but clearly, you didn't listen."

Well if this fool wanted a reason for their predicament, they were about to get one. With a theatrical touch, I placed my palm over my chin, pretending to ponder his question.

"Alright, Mr. Lee," I spoke slowly, my voice dripping with a mix of amusement and menace. "If you really want to know the reason, you're going to have to spill about Kim's family."

However, to my surprise, he bursts into laughter, causing my gaze to snap towards him with lightning speed.

"You think I'm foolish enough to tell you about them to the likes of you?" His words dripped with defiance, his tone unwavering.

"You've made a grave mistake, you moron. You've kidnapped the wrong person, and I will never, ever tell you a damn thing about them."

His statement ignited a fiery rage within me. How dare he mock me? How dare he think he had the upper hand? My anger intensified, my blood beginning to boil. This fool had no idea who he's dealing with, and he's about to learn a painful lesson.

"Alright, it seems like you're implying that you want her dead," I commented, gesturing towards his wife.

Without hesitation, he exploded in fury, bellowing, "You despicable bastard, just kill me and spare her!"

However, this time, I opted to just stand there calmly, my hands comfortably tucked inside the pockets of my sleek leather jacket. In that instant, I fixated my gaze on his wife, knowing that it was time for her demise.

Moments passed before Mr. Lee finally mumbled with his head lowered, "What do you need to know about them?"

'Bingo'

A small smirk playing at the corner of my lips. This was the moment I had been waiting for.

"Well, spill the beans on his family first, and then let's dive into his underground business," I replied, still fixated on his wife.

"He has a son and a daughter," Mr. Lee responded, causing me to swiftly turn my head towards him, my curiosity piqued.

"And a daughter too?" I exclaimed, genuinely surprised by the revelation of Kim's hidden secret.

"Where is she now?" I couldn't help but throw in the question, my curiosity overpowering my desire to remain silent. Unfortunately, he remained tight-lipped, leaving my query unanswered.

Glancing over at him, I catch sight of his downcast head. Curiosity piqued, I lower myself to the ground, positioning myself directly in front of him to get a better look at his face. And that's when I spot it—a solitary tear, glistening on his cheek. It's a peculiar sight, one that almost tempts a chuckle from me. But alas, the gravity of the situation prevents any laughter from escaping my lips.

"Oh, Mr. Lee, why the tears?" I inquire, my voice laced with a hint of mischief.

"I simply asked about his daughter. If you're unwilling to share, then I'm afraid I'll have no choice but to take matters into my own hands and kill your wife," I declare, my tone still gentle despite the menacing words, all while remaining on my knees.

"Please, spare her life. I don't understand why you're doing this. If you must take a life, take mine instead." His voice trembles as he pleads.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," I click my tongue disapprovingly.

"I had you pegged as a brave soul, but it seems you're nothing more than a timid mouse. It's a pity, really," I remark, rising to my feet.

"But you should know, even if you were to beg me now, I would still carry out my plan. First, I'll make you witness the demise of your wife, and then, only then, I will end your life," I state matter-of-factly as I make my way towards a nearby table adorned with a mysterious bag.

Opening the bag, I unzipped it and carefully extracted the knife, placing it meticulously on the table. Just as I did so, he erupted into screams of desperation and fury, his voice laced with a chilling warning. "Just kill me, don't you dare to touch her. I'll kill you if you touch her!"

Ignoring his frantic outbursts, the knife and tape practically begged to be in my grasp, so I calmly picked up the knife and tape. With a steady and purposeful stride, I approached his wife, positioning myself just behind her chair.

With a maddening calmness in my voice, I addressed him. "Mr. Lee, do you recall the time you callously took the life of a woman in front of her own child?"

The desire to slash her throat, and then his, coursed through my veins, creating an insatiable itch within me.

His expression twisted in confusion, he stammered out a response. "What… what do you mean? I don't understand anything," he managed to utter through his tearful pleas.

Smirking slightly, I seized a fistful of his wife's hair, exerting enough force to communicate my utter dominance. His threats and pleas fell upon deaf ears.

"Fucker, take your hands away from her! I swear I'll kill you!" he shouted, desperately clinging to a fading hope of escape through intimidation.

"Listen to me, I don't care who you think you are. You can do whatever you want to me, but spare her. She's innocent in all of this," he pleaded after a moment, his eyes pleading for mercy as I held her captive.

Ignoring his pleas, memories of my own past suffering flooded my mind. The image of my parents begging for their lives flashed before me, fueling my rage. With a swift motion, I pressed the knife against her throat and slit her throat in an instant.

In an instant, blood gushed from her throat, drenching everything in its path. She began to tremble uncontrollably from the sheer amount of blood she was losing. The floor, the chair, her clothes - all stained crimson with her life force. After what seemed like an eternity, the trembling eventually ceased. She was no longer among the living.

His eyes remained wide open, still in shock from the gruesome sight before him. The scene unfolding in front of his eyes left him utterly speechless. His happiness, like mine, seemed to vanish into thin air.

"Why? Why did you do this?" The words ripped through the air as he shouted in agony, followed by the piercing sound of his weeping. He moved in the chair, desperately trying to free himself from the pain.

I walked purposefully towards him, standing directly in front of his chair. With a firm grip, I grabbed his hair and forced him to look me in the eyes. My blood boiled with a desire for revenge, the name etched in my mind like a curse. The sense of accomplishment surged through me, yet a thrill still lingered in the air.

I watched as he struggled against the restraints, his eyes burning with a mixture of rage and fear. The tears streaming down his face mingled with the bloodshot redness, a clear indication of the intense emotions bubbling within him. Despite his desperate attempts to break free, I could see the murderous intent in his eyes, but he was powerless to act on it.

I released his hair and used my teeth to cut through the tape binding his hands. As I tried to muffle his cries by covering his mouth with tape, he defiantly spat on my gloved hand.

"Fuck, it's suck", cursing under my breath, I wiped my hand on his suit before firmly gripping his face with my right hand and forcefully securing the tape over his mouth.

Stepping back from the chair, I walked toward the table and picked up the knife from the table. The blade was stained with the blood of his wife, a grim reminder of the gruesome act I had committed. I started cleaning the knife on the table, preparing myself for the next death.

"I pity you, Mr. Lee, but you left me with no choice. You refuse to cooperate, so I must ensure my peace of mind by silencing you as well. Before your time is up, think back to the innocent woman you callously murdered in front of her child. Reflect on your actions," I said, wiping the knife blade with a thick fabric as I gazed into his widened eyes. He tried to speak, but the tape over his mouth rendered him speechless.

His facial expression revealed his thoughts, indicating that he remembers. However, I simply didn't have the patience to listen to his voice again. I casually strolled up behind his chair, placed the knife against his neck, and let out a small chuckle before swiftly slicing his throat, much like I did to his wife. The sight of his blood made me queasy, causing me to take a step back.

As I stood there, surrounded by the aftermath of my actions, I couldn't help but feel a sense of liberation. I knew that this path was dangerous and morally questionable, but in that moment, I didn't care.

Despite that, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that I had successfully taken down my first target.

© 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲𝐲 (𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝)

[ymirloves]

⋆｡°✩Meet the blogger! ⋆｡°✩

hii i'm ymir and im ur author <3 some stuff abt me: i am a big nerd on writing fanfiction/general stories, video games, and nature! **legend of zelda is my alltime favorite video game ((TP is my fav; getting OoT soon ;) )) some of my fav music artists is glass animals, sza, i monster ashnikko, marina and the diamonds, florence and the machine, kendrick lamar ! i hope i meet lots of people on here, i'm super new to tumblr and reaching out to fandoms anyways!

[1000headbash]

Thin walls. - Anji (100headbash) Jan. 25th 2025

[SUNDAY NOV 2018]

I’ve never paid much attention to the walls in this building.

Thin walls, people say, but walls are walls. They’re meant to separate spaces, lives, sounds. What difference does it make if you hear something through them? It’s just a noise. The kind of noise you get used to. A muffled argument on the other side. A door slammed. Shuffling footsteps. Nothing worth mentioning.

But lately, the noise next door has been… different. I can hear the voices, clearer now, sharper, more jagged. Nathan and Martha. Or maybe it’s just Nathan. You can always tell when it’s him.

His voice cuts through everything like a knife slicing the air between us. Not that he ever means to, but it’s how it is. The walls. They’re so thin you know? So thin. I don’t know why it never bothered me before, why it didn’t sink in, but it does now. It feels like I’m suffocating in here listening to it. Listening to them. And I’m caught in the middle.

Martha. I don’t even know her well, not really. Just an occasional wave in the hallway. Maybe a quick “hello” when we’re passing. But the walls will carry her frustration. Her anger. Her screams. Nathan, though, his voice has a particular edge. It’s colder. Always colder than hers.

It doesn’t make sense to me.

I wonder, does she want to leave him? Or is she just stuck? Does she even have a choice? Does anyone? I can feel myself pressing my palms to the walls sometimes, like if I just press harder, I can make the sound stop or push it away. But it doesn’t go away. It’s like the house just breathes it in and out with me, and all I can do is exist next to it, a quiet witness to their agony.

It’s 2 AM I think, when the first argument erupts, loud enough to fill my whole room, making my skin crawl. Martha’s voice is quiet at first—she’s trying to reason with him, but she never wins. Not against Nathan. He’s a hurricane in a room full of glass. I can hear the glass shattering in his words.

“You don’t understand. You never understand,” he shouts, his voice bellowing, not asking yet just demanding. She tries to talk, tries to calm him down, but it never works. He doesn’t listen. He doesn’t hear her. And she—Martha—she’s just… so quiet.

I tried to keep my comments to myself but all I am is an outsider of someone else’s lives. I should say something, though, I know I should mind my business and get out of it.

Before I could even leave a muffled thud can be heard. A pause. The sudden, sharp crack of something against the wall, then silence. I lean in, ear pressed to the cracked paint, hoping it’s nothing. Hoping it’s just the furniture shifting. But it’s not.

The shouting comes back, louder now, the crack becoming a rhythm in the night. It’s been this way for days now, maybe longer, but I haven’t counted.

Time doesn’t matter when the walls are so thin. They stretch out, long and narrow, and sometimes the walls feel closer together than they should. The arguments bleed through the plaster, the dust, the silence between one breath and the next. It’s exhausting.

[TUESDAY NOV 2018]

The days blur. I try to ignore it, but how could you? Every time I walk past their door, the echoes of their fights follow me. I see Martha in the hallway once, looking smaller than usual, her arms wrapped tight around herself. I catch her eyes and she looks away, but I say,

“Martha, hey. How you doing?” I don’t know why I ask. Maybe I just want to know if she’s real. If she’s more than just the voice in the walls.

She hesitates. It’s a second. Maybe less. Then she looks back at me, smiles—half-smiles—and says, “I’m fine. Just tired. You know how it is.”

She says it like a mantra. It’s always the same. Always the same words. Fine. Always fine. Her eyes tell a different story. Something’s wrong, I can see it. But I don’t say anything more. I don’t press it. What can I say? What good would it do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The walls wouldn’t hear me anyway.

Days go on. The shouting intensifies, gets sharper, faster. There’s more crashing now. Dishes breaking. Something heavy hitting the floor. I hear the kids crying. Their sobs are small, helpless. The walls feel thinner now. Maybe I’m imagining it, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the pressure. It doesn’t matter. All I know is that I can’t stand it anymore. I can’t just stay here listening to the madness. To the destruction.

[THURSDAY NOV 2018]

I can’t. I’m awake again. The arguing’s louder this time. I don’t know if it’s Nathan this time. Maybe it’s both of them. Maybe the kids too. The walls feel hot, like they’re closing in on me, and I can’t breathe. I can’t. It’s suffocating. I hear Martha’s voice rising, softer now, fragile, but still trying to hold on. And Nathan? Nathan’s a wave crashing on rocks, roaring over everything. The walls start to feel like they’re shaking. The apartment vibrates, the sounds of destruction now echoing like hollow thunder in the space between us.

I hear Martha yell something I can’t quite make out, but it sounds like “Don’t…” and then a sharp silence. Then—thud. Another thud. This time, something different. Something heavier. A cry from one of the kids. More shuffling. More anger. More slamming. The walls are screaming at me, vibrating with the force of what I can’t see. I think of knocking. Just knocking on their door. But I don’t. I can’t. What would I even say? What could I possibly say? I know what it would be: “I hear you.”

But it’s not that simple. Is it?

Martha’s sobbing now. It’s soft. It’s broken. And it’s in the walls too, right here with me, pressing in from all sides. I don’t know what to do with it. So I stay. I listen. I wait. For something to stop.

And then, in the stillness, after everything has collapsed into quiet, the sound of children’s cries fills the space. Loud. Loud enough to split the night in two. They don’t stop. I can’t think. I can’t think about the walls anymore, about what they mean. About what they hide. I don’t know why the walls are still standing. I don’t know how. I don’t know how long I can keep pretending they’re just walls.

[…]

I’m still awake, still listening. Watching the shadows stretch out across the floor. The clock ticks. But nothing matters. The walls are too thin and they know everything.

—————

The arguments had escalated, louder, more violent, more desperate. The cries of the children pierced the walls like a physical assault and I couldn’t pretend I didn’t hear it anymore. Not when it felt like I was being crushed under the weight of it. Not when I could no longer ignore what was happening next door.

The final straw came one night when the shouting turned into slamming—a door, a wall, furniture—something breaking. A voice yelling obscenities, followed by a thud, then silence. And the kids cries, mixed with the sounds of something far darker now, too muffled to make out yet clear enough to send a cold shiver down my spine.

I picked up my phone.

My hands trembled as I dialed. The words came out sharp, more urgent than I meant them to be. “There’s domestic violence. I don’t know exactly what’s happening, but I can hear kids crying, and it sounds like someone’s getting hurt.”

I didn’t say Nathan’s name, I didn’t have to. The dispatcher knew what I meant almost immediately. Did they knew about this before?

The sirens came loud and bright, cutting through the night air. I stayed inside, pressing my ear against the wall, listening.

I don’t know what I expected—maybe some miracle where it all ended peacefully—but it didn’t. There was shouting, more shouting, then the unmistakable sound of cuffs clicking into place. Nathan. I heard him protesting, his voice full of bluster, but the officers were relentless. They arrested him.

The kids’ cries were still there but softer now. They didn’t stop, but they faded into the background as the noise from the hallway—the shuffling of footsteps, the creak of the door—seemed to swallow them whole.

Minutes passed then the door opened, and there she was—Martha, standing in the hallway with her eyes wide, her hands trembling at her sides. She was staring at the floor, not looking at me, as if the weight of the world had collapsed on her shoulders. The image of her so fragile shook me more than I could admit.

Her shoulders jerked up when she saw me with a startled expression, and she met my eyes for the first time. The look in her eyes was raw, pained, so… Wmpty. She didn’t answer. Instead, she reached for the doorframe, her fingers scraping along the wood holding herself up, as though she was afraid to let go.

“I called the cops,” I said. “He’s gone. They’re taking him in.”

She nodded, but she didn’t speak. Just… nodded. And for a long time neither of us moved.

The days that followed were strange, suspended in a quiet haze. Martha didn’t talk much at first. The children were taken to stay with relatives, but she didn’t go with them. She stayed in the apartment wandering from room to room, as though the walls had become unfamiliar to her like she didn’t know where she belonged anymore.

I tried to help but it wasn’t simple. It wasn’t enough to just say, “You’re safe now.”

The trauma of it all was buried deep in her eyes in her every movement.

I could see the weight of the years on her even in the smallest gestures. Her hands still shook even when she tried to steady them.

She started therapy. Slowly, tentatively, I helped her find a routine. I drove her to appointments. Sometimes, I just sat with her, letting her talk if she wanted to. Letting her stay silent if she needed to.

It took time. It took more than time—it took trust. It took years.

…

…

Eventually the trembling stopped. The silence—that painful kind of silence, began to soften. She smiled again, though it was different.

Softer. Not the nervous, forced smile I used to see, but something more honest.

The way she held herself had changed too—stronger, more grounded, less fragile. The walls between us, the ones that had once separated us as strangers had come down. Not all at once, but piece by piece, as we both learned to trust each other again.

I think I should’ve called the cops sooner when I had the chance.

[libraryleopard]

Adult thriller

When Naomi Shaw was a girl, she believed in magic–but she hasn't since the day she and her friends were attacked in the woods

Through testimony of the three girls helped put a serial killer behind bars, they've been haunted by the events of that day in the forest for twenty-two years–and the lies they told the world about what happened

Decades later, Naomi's friend decides it's time to tell the truth and Naomi sets out to find out what really happened in the forest that day, no matter how dangerous it will be

Bisexual protagonist with PTSD and severe scarring

[philcoulsonismyhero]

Self-indulgent gay crime thriller for the wip meme

Ah yes, my beloved Detective Thing(TM) that I really need to properly title...

I've talked about this one before, and it's basically the result of two lines of thought, number one being: 'I know this crime drama is from the early 2000s and thus is Not going to have queer people in it but Please can I just have one (1) queer hero in this genre? For once? For me?' There's something about the genre conventions of older crime dramas that I just enjoy, but it is Exhausting in that particular regard and I started contemplating the idea of Doing It Myself.

And the other slightly less serious one coming from the fact that I got back into Kingsman while I was also on a Silent Witness kick and had the thought 'isn't it funny how many of my favourite characters are called Harry? Oh no, hang on a minute, I think Harry Hart is exactly the type that Harry Cunningham would have an enormous hopeless crush on...' (Harry Cunningham isn't technically canon bi, but. He is. He just is.)

So I rattled those two characters around in my brain a bit until the serial numbers came off and suddenly a whole story had built itself around the resulting characters, initially referred to in my outline as Doctor and Detective. (And I'm not very interested in writing active romance plotlines, so they became an established couple instead.)

The resulting thing has been snowballing in my brain, picking up complexity and structure and other characters and Themes, and now it's the story of George Glen, detective chief inspector in London's Metropolitan Police in 2005 and closeted gay man who lives with his partner, forensic pathologist Dr Tim Kingswood, who he frequently works with on cases with none of his colleagues being any the wiser as to their actual relationship. George, working with his brilliant Detective Sergeant Naomi Edusei and Tim as the designated pathologist, ends up lead detective on a complicated murder case that slowly develops into a serial killer investigation. But things get more complicated as certain elements of the case start to feel a little close to home for George, who's keeping rather more secrets than just his orientation and home life, and eventually the finger of suspicion starts to drift in his direction...

I love this story, it's basically me having a go at doing Silent Witness, Criminal Minds and various other crime thrillers all at once, and I'm extremely fond of George as a protagonist. Here's a bit I think you'll enjoy, featuring George and Tim's cat, named The Usual Suspect for his habit of doing Cat Crimes:

George stared at the file, lost in memory, until he heard a soft scrabbling at the door. He sighed.  “Go away, Suspect,” he said, softly. “I'm working.” But, unsurprisingly, the cat ignored him and kept scrabbling. George rolled his eyes and pushed his chair back. “If you leave scratch marks on that door, cat, you and I are going to have a conversation that you won't enjoy.” He got up, crossed to the office door, and opened it a crack, balancing on one foot so he could hold the other in front of the gap to stop the cat from getting in.  The Usual Suspect stopped scraping his paws on the door like he was trying to dig through it and looked up at George with his ridiculous lamp-like eyes. “Go and sleep on Tim,” said George, still keeping his voice low because of the late hour. “I'm working.” But the cat just meowed back at him and kept staring. “Oh, alright,” said George, giving in. He moved his foot, and quick as a flash Suspect had slid past his ankles and into the room.  George crossed back to his desk and sat down, and Suspect immediately jumped up into his lap, purring like a lawnmower. George laughed slightly, unable to keep pretending he was cross with him. “You are such an attention hog,” he said, scratching the cat's ears as he rubbed his little head against his hand. “How am I supposed to get anything done with you around, hm? I could charge you with obstructing a criminal investigation.” Scooting his chair back in slightly, although not enough to squash Suspect up against the desk, George went one-handedly back to the files, keeping the other hand occupying the cat. Maybe it would be nice to have some furry company as he navigated the darker corners of memory lane. 

(Technically this thing is probably going to be a comic rather than a novel, but I've been writing bits in prose just to get a handle on character voices and such, and because I'm more familiar with prose than script format. But it exists in my head as a visual thing and I can't make a TV miniseries so comic it probably is.)

[alicefromwhichplanet]

Hihihi I’m back to fiction writing! One work dedicated to my favorite ship Megop! Finally, I POST their stories. That’s mainly because my works at hand are quite long and I am currently struggling with my life… but yeah. I’ve always been writing about them.

About this work: It’s basically a megop-background story, but I cannot say it’s a megop story in the conventional sense. However, it’s a great attempt of mine, to try out writing a psychological thriller, and to write multiple first-person point of views. The story is narrated through three perspectives: Airazor’s, Scourge’s and Optimus Prime’s. They follow the same timeline and (I tried to) use different narratives. There is suspense but not too much. And it’s gonna be a very sad story.

The story is also my attempt to fix the blanks of logic and one-dimensional character building in the film, as well as an effort made to make up for my disappointment that there is no decepticons or Megatron in the film (which is totally unreasonable for me). Speaking in a more gentle way, I used my imagination to explain things that are not fully explained.

[orcelito]

Today I watched the movie Aliens (sequel to Alien) and I also watched a reaction/analysis video of skibidi toilet. I know many things, now.

[ravenssword]

The Executioners

Chapter 1- pilot

I sit in an empty corner staring at nothing, thinking of all the horrible and traumatic things I went through. My body is still and stiff. I don't know how I survived it, but I did. All the noise seemed to disappear as I drowned in my thoughts.

A girl slides next to me. I didn’t notice her at first, not until she spoke and the sound of her voice brought me back to reality. I slowly turn my head to her. A little girl stared up at me. She was about eight years old maybe. Her face was covered in debris and her clothes torn. Her legs and arms were bruised and a  bandage was tied around her head. She had gone through a lot I thought, and it will haunt her for the rest of her life. Her eyes were filled with wonder but also sadness. She didn’t smile but had a sad resting face. 

I said hello in a quiet voice. She didn't say hello back but stared at me for a second.

“My mommy and daddy are dead, she said in a quiet voice. They rescued me”, as she pointed to the couple across from me. 

It was a couple who seemed to be in their early forties. They were kissing and embracing each other. They were both badly hurt but didn't seem to mind it. A nurse comes in and badges the arm of the woman then leaves. 

“What happened to You?” the little girl asked. 

I turned away from her, the sad images were coming into my head again, my eyes were getting watery. I know what she means to say, which is what's my story .

“A lot of things, I said quietly. Horrible, sad things”

She goes quiet for a minute then asks “Are you waiting for someone?”

I shake my head. “Just waiting for the news of the doctor” I said in a shakingly voice.   

“Are they badly hurt?” she asks

I turn my head to face her again. “Yeah, but they’ll be fine. I know it”. 

She smiles at me. It also made me smile a bit. she looks nicer when she smiles.

“What's your story? before all of this happened? I want to know, I'm in the mood for a story, although it might be similar to everyone's” she said with a demanding face.

“Nothing interesting” I said, turning towards her. 

She looked at me still wanting to know.

“Fine,” I said. A smile went across her face again

“I won’t start from the very beginning but I'll start from a couple days before” 

She shook her head and excitedly turned her whole body towards me.

[horvival]

Condemned: Criminal Origins (2005)

[hauntnseek]

"The Haunted Forest - A Confrontation with the Past"

In this haunting scene, Dex is forced to face the consequences of his darkest actions. Chompy, the dog he once loved and then murdered, returns in a twisted form, summoning demons that are disturbing representations of his own daughter. Set in the very forest where Dex used to walk Chompy, this encounter is a terrifying blend of guilt, grief, and surreal horror. Every step brings Dex closer to the truth—and further into his own personal hell. Can you survive this emotional and terrifying reckoning in Haunt N' Seek: Silent Siren VR? https://hauntnnseek.com