#pumpkinstabs

[lncarnon]

Not a word out of the guy. What a fucking weirdo. Julie spies the large blade and makes a mental note about it as she leans over the railing, swinging one leg across the creaking wood and then another, falling to the ground floor onto steady feet. With an old plush chair the only thing between the two of them there doesn't seem to be much in the manner of actual apprehension on her behalf for @pumpkinstabs' subtle warning. So what if she got hurt? They all came back, eventually.

"So, you've got a kitchen knife. Gonna chop me up, big guy?" Something in her voice betrays the grin nestled just out of view. Perhaps it is the excitement for something finally happening around their dull resort that raises her heart. Or, maybe the sheer possibility of picking a fight with someone bigger than her is sparking some unbidden desire to see that violence unfold. Julie keeps a hand well enough out of sight in the chance he decides to move first. Within those black painted digits she holds her own blade, shorter than his own, but its serrated edge could certainly do some meaningful damage.

[eyeless-smiles]

@pumpkinstabs

Corinthian prefers making his kills somewhere a little more private. Seducing willing victims back to a motel room or their own place. Bathroom stalls and back alleys do in a pinch, but they can get messy. What with possible witnesses and no easy way to hide a body.

But sometimes, a gorgeous pair of eyes are just too good to pass up on. And their owners get spooked. Too weary to follow a stranger home.

Hence why he has this prettly little thing pinned to a wall in the back alley of a local restaurant.

Those icy blue eyes stare up at him with lust and trepidation. Quickly twisted into betrayal and mounting horror when the mortal realises this isn't just some back alley hookup. The sharp, cutting steel of his blade caresses his victims throat as the Corinthian lurches over him like a starving wolf. His sultry smile taking on a sharpness that is fare more sinister.

"What do you want-- money?? My wallet is in my pocket, please, take it-!" Futile attempts to beg for his life fall on disinterested ears. A low chuckle of dark intent rumbling within the Corinthian's auxilary throats as those concealed maws begin to drool with anticipation over their next meal.

"Oh, I don't want your money, doll."

The Nightmare looms closer. The mortals eyes widen with utter terror as they catch a glimpse of gnashing teeth beyond the depths of his shades.

"What are-!?" Shaky words are cut short by the sweeping embrace of Corinthian's blade across the young man's neck. Crimson billowing forth to cascade down his shirt whilst any further attempts to speak get stuck in his slit throat.

"That's it, baby. Die nice and quick for me." The monster muses as the human hopelessly clutches at their throat- then the Nightmare's lapels. Grasping, choking, trying with desperation to fight off the monster that has him pinned.

But his attempts don't seem to phase the Nightmare in the slightest. A golden hand viciously grips the dying man's jaw. Forcing his victim's eyes to meet his own so that the Corinthian can witness every frantic emotion that flashes through them.

So caught up in his ritualistic killing, the Nightmare is too preoccupied to pay attention to the world around it.

[exiitiosus]

michael myers 〃 @pumpkinstabs

☾⋆｡✦₊˚  Gloved fingers wrapped around the victim's throat from behind, the sharp blade of his knife disappearing into the poor soul's back over and over again, until blood was pooling into their mouth and dripping all over the dark leather of his glove and sleeve. Wide hazel hues hidden behind the ghostly mask focused on the man standing in front of them, Michael. The silence surrounding the three of them only broken by the sound of the knife slicing into skin and muscles and the wheezy breathes of the victim as their lungs filled with blood.

One last stab before he let them crumble on the ground, and without much of a care he stepped over them, into Michael's personal space. The ghostly mask lifted, just enough so Danny's mouth was exposed when he brought the now bloodied knife to his mouth and let his tongue ran along the flat of the blade, licking the blood away. " You were taking too long with this one, big boy. " A pause, a smirk curving his mouth. " And I was getting impatient. "

[creatureshrieks]

Laurie tries her hardest to smile politely, though she grips at the textbooks wrapped in her arms, as if they were a small barrier between her and the boy before her. She hadn't bothered to ever... interact with him, she kept to herself, but people talked, her friends listened, and her friends talked some more. She was painfully aware the two of them were alone in the hallway, though Laurie willed herself to give him the benefit of the doubt. He wouldn't be in high school with her if he really was as dangerous as everyone said he was, right?... Regardless, what little she did know about him unsettled her.

Laurie squeezes the books to her chest as he approaches, though she makes sure that her smile doesn't falter. She didn't want to be rude, after all. She watches him approach, though her eyes narrow in slight confusion as he questions her, leaning back only slightly as he held his hand out to her. She takes a moment to look over the photograph, some old Christmas photo with kids on the front. They looked young, the photograph looked aged. She... guessed the younger boy might be Michael, as he introduced himself, but the girl in the left didn't look like anyone she knew. Blonde hair like she did, but it seemed like half the girls in school were blondes and the rest were brunettes. Laurie gives a slow shake of her head, eyes turning from the photograph and towards Michael. " Uhm... no, sorry, I don't, " She kept her voice quiet, apologetic, " Do you know their name? " She questioned in an attempt to be helpful. The kids looked close in age, so if they were here... she might've met them, Hawkins High was basically where every kid went.

Michael would have to forgive Laurie for not recognizing herself. It wasn't as if she had any pictures of her childhood, at least her younger years.

@pumpkinstabs ; cont.

[pathoscleaved]

@pumpkinstabs has entered the web.

NUMBER 13 PEERS INTO THE CONTAINMENT UNIT, BLUE EYES BRIGHT WITH CURIOSITY AND THE CHANCE TO PICK A LOCK. Inside, through quite a great of defenses that shouldn't be there, he sees another child, someone who looks lonely and cold. Thirteen had been walking around with a blanket anyway, as he had done some testing for the team of scientists that had visited his home, The Spencer Foundation Home for Adolescents, and he knew how cold it could be. In truth, he shouldn't be down here; someone had messed up and let the prodigy slip passed them.

He crouches, curling himself as close as he can against the door to hide what he is doing. Thirteen takes out his lockpicking kit and sets to work applying just the right amount of pressure to jimmy pins into place. The click is music to his ears, and he grabs his baby blue blanket from the floor and slips inside the door. Coming to sit in front of the other, Thirteen places his blanket over the kid's legs and offers a bright smile. "They call me Albert," he says, "what's your name?"

[manufactoredxbyxdesign]

@pumpkinstabs

Fortunately for both of them, he bottle misses Michael's head by a couple inches and instead bursts into tiny pieces as it hits the wall behind him. He does not flinch, though the noise does bother him and threatens to set him in a sour mood. He is not here for a fight, though. He doesn't come here for that anymore. The Boogeyman waits a moment before he shakes his head to say no, he's not here to bother him. Not in a bad way, at least. Then he steps into the other's office, noticing the heavy smell of alcohol in the room.

"...Good."

Perhaps if he had been capable of guilt - or even the smallest shred of remorse - an apology would have quickly followed. But in it's place a long quiet pause would simply have to suffice.

His annoyance has dissipated at least now. Knowing that the figure that's approached is one that he at least get's along with seems to calm whatever was starting to burn up inside.

"Come to see me?" He asks, like Michael has ever had any other reason to be here outside of the trials. He lets out a sigh, smelling the rich wine on his breath. "I'd offer you a drink but that was my last bottle."

[judgcmcnt]

@pumpkinstabs replied

michael wants to be bit hard enough he bleeds a lot

No need to ask him twice.

Fangs of iron sink deep and quick into Michael's arm, a deep purr sounds from the helm as blood hits his tongue. That's all he does though, no jerking his head or biting down harder.

He doesn't want to hurt his shadow too much...

[finalslay]

@pumpkinstabs / continued from here

there is no response from the one in front of him other than a glance in his direction. as a matter of fact, it's an almost painfully nonchalant reaction. still, eddie can work with this, he thinks, as the other continues to wander further into his domain. perhaps she's just the silent and mysterious type — perhaps she wants to make him work for it, perhaps she wants to play a little game of her own. she could have ran away — that's what most of the others try to do — but she is willingly walking down into the darkness. very interesting.

so, as the other continues along the path, eddie simply falls into step behind him. humming to himself, eddie's eyes never once leave the newcomer. he notices it, the bloodied trail left behind, the hospital gown. this one will need special attention, he's sure of it. thumb brushes along the handle of the knife tucked into his waistband ; it is there and ready for use at a moment's notice. he will play the gentleman, but like always, if things change ...

“ are you hurt, darling? i can help. ” a beat. “ someone as pretty as you should not be walking around in these conditions — it just isn't right. what kind of man would i be if i didn't offer to assist? ”

[berylcluster]

⊰ starter for @pumpkinstabs HANNIBAL for MICHAEL ⊱

➫ HANNIBAL flipped open the mornings newspaper with a loud crinkle, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He had made them a nice spread for breakfast, two plates laid out on the table, coffee for the chef and just about any drink Michael could ever want in fancy glass pitchers, all aligned in the center. Cereals, fruits, breads of various sorts, meat of course, eggs and little vegetables for garnish. Sometimes he'd eat his breakfast with a bed of spinach or some tomato and although he had tried to refine the other killer's palette, he'd also provide him with simple, pedestrian choices as well. He had the paper covering his head as he read, the clink of his fork on the plate occasionally to let the other know he was still there. This was a very typical morning for them, the doctor could catch up on the week's news, Michael could take his time waking up from the night's sleep, whether he got any is another story. He crossed one leg over the other, eyes flicking across the page and landing on a grizzly black and white photo.

Blurred images of four bodies strung up, posed in a way that was perhaps only recognizable by a select few who enjoyed Botticelli. Each member of the family holding each of their stomachs, lined up in a celebration of flesh and family. The painting happened to be one of his favorites, he hardly read the actual words of the story, simply basked in this discovery. He didn't even compose himself as he brought down the paper, a smirk growing on his face as his gaze turned on the other, a loving stare in his eyes. Hannibal knew only one who could pull of an art piece this grotesque like the Chesapeake Ripper, an almost perfect copy - if he had only brought some trophies home. "My love, did you happen to get out last night? It seems there's a blood thirsty killer on the loose again." He clicked his tongue, before handing over the newspaper. "It might be best if you lay low until the police finish chasing their tails."

[bloodybcrbie]

@pumpkinstabs | continued from 🖤 .

somehow , the intimidating aura that usually exudes from his imposing figure and emotionless visage has seemingly melted away at this very moment . if his eyes were daggers , they would have pierced through the delicate surface of her flesh , leaving just the bare bone underneath .

there is very good reason for his piercing gaze . after all , it is quite the drastic transformation — her soul having withdrawn from the artificial vessel of plastic and now settled back into the curvaceous physique of the VIXEN that she is . every supple curve and contour of her frame accentuated by the skintight black dress. quite a tantalizing sight , to say the least .

she does not QUIVER nor become bashful in his presence . rather , his intense gaze sends a surge of smug satisfaction through her veins . her chocolate brown eyes gaze at him intently before trailing over his towering frame , a small smirk coming onto her pink lips .

a manicured hand is slinkily placed onto her hip as she daintily tilts her head to the side . her tone is soft , sweet . one might even say deceptively so . though , with her , it can never be certain .

❝ cat got your tongue , sweetface ? ❞

[ncmither]

@pumpkinstabs said: for whatever reason, david has appeared to catch the boogeyman’s attention. michael has been stalking him the entire trial, and now that he has him where he wants him, he gets to the point and forcefully shoves the survivor against the nearest tree bark and tucks his knife against david’s adam’s apple, the sharp weapon nicking the skin enough to draw some drops of red.

♛ˎˊ˗       he  plays  the  distraction  well  .  moves  back  &  forth  ,  zips  through  windows  just  to  turn  corners  at  fast  pace  .  he's  out  of  breath  when  the  boogeyman  corners  him  &  shoves  him  against  the  nearest  surface  .  there  is  a  jolt  of  momentary  interest  before  the  panic  sets  in  .  he  hisses  as  the  blade  cuts  ,  draws  crimson  droplets  from  his  throat  that  stains  his  own  skin  .  he  laughs  .  eyes  wide  ,  staring  into  vacant  darkness  .  his  tongue  presses  against  the  back  of  his  teeth  ,  mimics  how  he  forces  the  blade  to  dig  DEEPER  into  skin  as  he  arches  it  forward  .  the  same  song  ,  the  same  dance ,  the  same  ways  to  die  before  daylight  breaks  .  he's  cocky  &  arrogant  as  he  reaches  one  hand  to  wrap  around  michael's  wrist  &  the  other  comes  to  rest  on  the  larger  man's  waist  .  he  blows  michael  a  kiss  &  laughs  .  ❝   do  it  &  make  it  fuckin'  'urt  good this  time  ,  baby  girl  .   ❞

[creatureshrieks]

Yes, Michael had become irritated at Frank's special treatment towards the survivor. He doesn't understand why he decided to be nice or give them special privileges. He doesn't get that he's doing it purposely to make Michael jealous. So he's dragged the said survivor through every realm by their hair, stopping until he finally reaches Ormond. They're cut up, bleeding and lethargic, riddled in stabs and with their legs rendered useless due to broken bones. Michael tosses them into the main building, their sobs and gasps filling the otherwise silent place. He waits for Frank to show himself.

@pumpkinstabs || Michael & Frank || unprompted.

If there's one thing Frank was, it was a nuisance. An irritating dick. A bastard. He liked to piss people off, even those he supposedly cared about. Didn't matter if the two of them were just friends, romantic partners, or just people that fucked when they felt they had time to spare - given the chance, Frank would find some way to dig under their skin. It wasn't just for entertainment, though making someone jealous certainly was amusing to watch, but Frank used this all as a means of... research. He liked to know how people reacted, how they thought. Liked to know what made them tick. Made it easier to interact with them, figure out what words to use, what actions got them to pay attention.

For Michael, though? Frank didn't even need to go this far, letting a Survivor escape without much injury, scampering through trials as if Frank had no intention of letting harm befall them. Even threw them into the hatch on the odd occasion just to dig the point in a little deeper. Of course, word spread as he figured it would. Survivors talked and people watched. Michael always watched, the fucking that stalker he was. He knew Michael would start to get ticked off, he was just surprised it took as long as it did.

The main building was empty when Michael arrives. At least it appeared so, given the fact none of the Legion were milling about on the ground floor, the otherwise peaceful silence broken by uneasy breaths and held back sobs. It was enough of a commotion to alert Frank, however, who appeared soon after to peer over the banister on the second floor. He takes a second to appraise the scene, his own grin hidden behind the mask's.

" Jesus, Michael, what'd you do? "

He's quick to skip down the stairs and towards the Survivor crumpled on the ground, bleeding out onto his floor. He crouches down beside them and rolls them back and forth, tugging them in awkward angles to inspect Michael's handiwork without much care. The Survivor only whimpers and pleads.

Frank turns his head upwards to look at Michael.

" What'd they do to piss you off, big boy? Stab your other eye? "

Playing innocent, as if he wasn't the cause of their pain.

" You know, I'm kind of offended. I like this Survivor, why'd you have to go and break them? "

[spookyagentfmulder]

Continued for @pumpkinstabs 🎃

The staring continues for a moment; Mulder allowing himself to get comfortable in the silence he knows will most likely fill the entirety of their conversation. He has been informed that Michael Myers is a mute, and has come prepared with his own pad of paper and a pen. He doubts, however, that the patient will be so entirely eager to start conversing with a new and strange individual, but getting people to open up was something Agent Fox Mulder was particularly good at. Regardless of any potential horrific background or not.

"... Must have drank a lot of milk." He finally cuts through the heavy air that's settled between them, "S'only thing that makes sense." Surprisingly he does have eyeballs, and they look down at the sound of the handcuffs rustling. Jeez, you would think that if they knew they had a large patient they would get handcuffs that would fit accordingly. It seems even with potential sedation they're worried about letting fresh meat into his enclosure.

"Surprised you can't break your way out of those things." He says, probably to the concern of a few people who are observing the both of them; Scully included, "It's all in the wrists, really."

[manufactoredxbyxdesign]

♡

"I know you are there Michael..."

●●●●○| ATTRACTION ●●●●○ | AFFECTION ●●●●○ | INTEREST ●●○○○ | LOYALTY ●●○○○ | TRUST

[judgcmcnt]

@pumpkinstabs prayed

It is unheard of for Michael to go into other’s Realms, but the Pyramid Head is an exception to many of Michael’s typical traits. With some difficulty, he makes his way to the God’s Realm, the rotting school with the large yard in the center. He makes his way to the upper floor, where he most recently heard the dragging of the God’s large knife. It will never be admitted, but he would like to spend some time with the other killer.

He feels Michael's presence as soon as he steps into his realm. It does not make him slow his pace in his patrol, but the other killer is not met with aggression or hunger. A small sign, but a sign nonetheless, of the relationship between the two killers.

When their paths cross a deep rumble vibrates with Pyramid Head's throat, clearly pleased with the other's presence. It's not much warning before he's pushing his head against the Shape, rubbing against him as well.

Yes you were just scent marked, Michael. You're welcome.

[w4nts]

@pumpkinstabs : “i miss you. are you busy?” it’s a question michael doesn’t really care for the answer, because whether or not danny is busy, his mind is dead set on getting in danny’s pants, even if danny is on the clock right now. he presses his hips against the other’s rear, massive hands reaching around to grab at his thighs and between his legs, fingers beginning to work away at the zipper. “you’re not going to get any customers for the next hour or so. you never do at this time.”

       ❛❛   I'm never too busy for you, tiger.   ❜❜     Danny can't help but giggle at Michael's eagerness, thoroughly enjoying the way the other man's hands wander and the way he presses against Danny's ass     ——    which he encourages by grinding back against him.      ❛❛   You better, mm, hurry... You never know when a nerd's gonna run in with a comic-based emergency...   ❜❜     He teases, hands planting themselves on the shelf in front of him.      ❛❛   Think you're up for the challenge, Mikey?   ❜❜     He purrs, tone sultry and smooth as he bites on his lower lip, giving Michael his best 'fuck me' eyes from over his shoulder.