#slasher series 5

[fabledenigmaeragif]

Jefferson Brown

In the Source Link, you will find a complete gif pack of Jefferson Brown in Slasher: Ripper. Jefferson played the role of Horatio Dixon.

Horatio Dixon was a street pimp, who had a run in with the henchmen of Basil Garvey. He is brutally murdered in the first episode, however appears in later episodes to explain why the Widow does what she does. Jefferson is the one of three actors to appear in someway in all five seasons, he is the only male. In Slasher: The Executioner, he played Trent McBride. In Slasher: Guilty Party, he played Gene, the delivery guy for the commune. In Slasher: Solstice, he played Wyatt. In Slasher: Flesh and Blood, he played sailor Merle. *This pack contains episodes 1 - 5, a work in progress. Episode 1 is finished* Contains spoilers and scenes of brutal horror.

Source - FabledEnigma

[thewolffairytaler]

One sad little sheep - part 5 | Thomas Hewitt x female reader

_____________________________

Summary: When the third day finally arrives, the little sheep gets out earlier for her proper behaviour, also for the reason that he knows she needs to recover from her current state, her uncle thinking that she had gotten her lessons well kept in her head for now. But in reality, she hasn't. If anything, she just got more touch starved from candid comfort and love. And all she wants to do for the day is to relax and feel free for a moment again.

Parts: Six, seven, eight, nine, ten, & eleven.

As the soft morning light filtered through the dusty windows of the small-town Texas gas station, a young woman stood at the checkout counter, her fingers gently tapping against a jar of homemade jam. She had a determined expression upon her face, but her eyes told a different story—a dullness that lingered behind her polite facade. Today, the usual sparkle in her gaze was overshadowed by a hint of melancholy, as though weighty thoughts had settled upon her shoulders and dimmed her spirit. The sweet scent of peach jam mingled with the rich aroma of brewed tea, yet even the promise of a comforting afternoon treat seemed insufficient to lift her mood.

Behind the counter, an older woman observed the scene with keen interest. The owner of the gas station, who had seen countless faces pass through her doors, immediately recognized the sorrow draped over the young woman's demeanor. With silver hair neatly tucked back and a warm smile that spoke of years lived and lessons learned, the old lady leaned closer as she counted the items. Memories of her own children flooded her mind, reminders of their struggles and triumphs, and she felt an inexplicable urge to reach out.

“You know, honey,” she remarked gently, her voice soft like the summer breeze, “sometimes a little jam and tea can help more than we realise. It's not just about the taste; it’s about the comfort they bring."

The young adult looked at Luda Mae, her gaze a mix of uncertainty and vulnerability, as she leaned slightly against the gas station counter. The fluorescent lights above flickered on and off, casting a harsh glow on her face, revealing the faint shadows beneath her eyes.

“Is it that noticeable?” she asked quietly, her voice barely rising above the hum of the refrigerator behind her. Despite having escaped the suffocating confines of her uncle's home just seven hours earlier, a lingering fog of unease still clung to her. Each second felt like a reminder of the cage from which she had just emerged, and she hoped Luda Mae wouldn’t see the turmoil swirling within her.

Luda Mae, a woman seasoned by life’s trials and imbued with a quiet strength, studied (Y/n) with a keen eye. She had seen many faces in her years behind the counter some weary, some hopeful, others haunted and she sensed the weight of the girl’s unspoken worries.

“Honey, you don’t have to pretend with me,” Luda Mae said softly, her weathered hands resting comfortably atop the countertop. “You’ve been through something tough, and it takes time to feel like yourself again.” The young woman nodded, acknowledging the truth of Luda Mae’s words, realizing that her uncle had underestimated the impact of her captivity. He had thought allowing her a brief reprieve from her confinement would be enough, but the scars ran deeper than mere moments of freedom could heal.

As they stood there, an unspoken understanding began to form between them, bridging the gap between their ages and experiences. Luda Mae had her own stories of endurance, and she sensed the young woman's journey was only just beginning. With each passing moment at the counter, the weight of her past began to lighten, if only slightly; she could feel the stirrings of a new resolve within her. Here, in the hum of the gas station, amidst the mundane exchanges and the scent of gasoline, she dared to envision a future unconfined by her uncle's oppressive grasp. Together, they shared a fleeting moment of connection, illuminating the path ahead, one step at a time.

She regarded Luda Mae with a sense of admiration, often marveling at how the elderly lady seemed to weave strength and warmth into her daily interactions. Though she didn’t know much about Luda Mae beyond her role as Thomas's mother, she had witnessed enough to appreciate the resilience that lingered behind her gentle demeanor. There were plenty of outsiders who rolled through the gas station, their rudeness like a sharp wind piercing the small-town charm, and it was refreshing to see Luda Mae stand her ground against such behavior. It wasn’t merely a matter of pride; it was the subtle defiance of a woman who’d seen her fair share of life’s storms, and who wasn’t afraid to assert herself when the situation called for it.

In contrast, the townsfolk possessed a more muted form of rudeness, a kind that oozed with passive-aggression and veiled disdain. They would flash polite smiles while harboring their judgments in hushed whispers, making it easy for the young woman to feel the weight of their unspoken words. She found solace in the presence of Luda Mae, who, regardless of the company she kept, filled the atmosphere with her grounded spirit. To see her ward off the harshness of the world with mere words or a firm stance was a reminder that kindness and assertiveness could coexist, creating an unshakeable presence amidst the unsettling currents of small-town life. In a place where the unkind often masked their intentions, Luda Mae shone like a beacon of authenticity, someone who was both pleasant and formidable. A combination that the young woman cherished deeply.

(Y/n) often found herself lost in thought, contemplating the nature of motherhood through the prism of her own relationship with Luda Mae. It wasn’t that Luda Mae lacked that kindness she had mentioned earlier; she could be a warm presence, offering comfort when times were tough. Yet, there existed an invisible barrier between them. A chasm shaped by unspoken expectations and the weight of deeper emotions. (Y/n) had grown accustomed to navigating life alone, guarding her heart and thoughts with an instinctive resolve. Perhaps that was why she refrained from sharing anything too personal, opting instead for conversations that skimmed the surface of normalcy. In a world where vulnerability felt like a risk, the young woman convinced herself that Luda Mae’s role was merely a transient one, a mere guide in a life that wasn't hers to complicate.

Over the years, she observed Luda Mae’s gestures. Little acts of care hinted at an underlying yearning for something. There were moments when she could almost imagine what it felt like to call someone "Mama," to share secrets and dreams without fear of judgment. Yet, she held back, tethered by an unshakeable belief that opening up would only create burdens, and neither of them was equipped to bear. It was as if she stood on the edge of a precipice, peering into the possibility of a relationship that could fill the void left by absence but recoiling at the thought of the leap. With each encounter, she wrestled with the duality of her feelings: a longing for the closeness that a mother-daughter bond could offer, and an instinct to protect her own heart from the complexities of such a tie.

In her mind, Luda Mae remained a dichotomy, a gentle soul who could provide warmth yet never fully step into the role of motherhood that the young woman had always craved. Thus, their interactions played out like a delicate dance, wherein (Y/n) took care not to venture too far, lest she discover that relationships, much like wounds, could heal but also open up old scars. She wanted to believe that Luda Mae understood, respected her boundaries, and simply settled into the rhythm of their unconventional connection. After all, in their world of fractured families and unspoken promises, perhaps normalcy was the safest haven, even if it left her wondering what could have been, what it truly meant to have a mother.

She walked out of the gas station with a calm more aware demeanor as she began walking through the roads of the Texas heat, as she eventually stepped through the familiar doorway of her childhood home, the aroma of her freshly purchased groceries mingling with the scent of the earth that clung to her uncle's work boots by the door. She placed the bags down on the wooden table, momentarily distracted by the comforting chaos of family life that surrounded her. Taking a deep breath, she quietly approached her uncle, who stood peeling potatoes, the worn grooves of his hands speaking of a life spent in hard labor. With a respectful tone, she asked if she might spend the day outdoors, yearning for the tranquility of nature that she had always cherished.

Her uncle paused, giving her a careful once-over, assessing her sincerity. Although he had observed the subtle struggles she faced in recent times, he couldn't deny the earnestness in her eyes today. She promised it would only be until nine o'clock, and with a soft chuckle, he recalled how she often returned from her woodland escapes with dirt smudged across her cheeks but a bright light in her demeanor as a child. "Just watch your step," he advised playfully, the concern hidden beneath his gruff exterior, before he turned back to his work in the cowshed. The young woman couldn't help but to smile a bit at the outcome, feeling both liberated and understood, ready to lose herself in the wild embrace of the natural world, if only for a few hours. But also a bit of dread as she never really liked that tone of his, it always meant something bad. She left the house swiftly in a worry that he might change his mind soon if she dosen’t move fast.

(Y/n) wandered through the rugged Texas landscape, her senses alive with the vibrant details of nature surrounding her. The golden sun filtered through the sprawling branches of ancient oaks, casting playful shadows on the ground as she meandered along a dusty path. Every now and then, her gaze would be drawn to a glimmering object—a unique stone, a delicate feather, or an unusual flower—each a small treasure in the vastness of the wild. In those moments of exploration, all thoughts of her job at the slaughterhouse faded away, replaced by an exhilarating sense of freedom and connection to the earth.

She had ventured outside with no particular destination in mind, simply seeking solace in the beauty of the scenery. The air was filled with the earthy scent of wild sage, mingling with the distant calls of birds soaring high above. Each time she stopped to examine a new find, she felt a warm glow of contentment, as if the world was encouraging her to notice the little wonders often overlooked in the daily grind of life. Yet, unbeknownst to her, this leisurely stroll was leading her down a path that would intersect with the anxieties of her job, one that often weighed heavily on her spirit.

As she admired the shimmering reflections of sunlight dancing upon a nearby creek, she realised she had unknowingly taken a shortcut to her workplace. The familiar outline of the slaughterhouse loomed ahead, a stark contrast to the serene landscape she had been traversing. The beauty of the day was fleeting, tempered by the reality of the responsibilities she held. A deep breath filled her lungs, a reminder that the tranquility of nature coexisted with the harshness of her daily life. But in that moment, she chose to embrace the wonder of her surroundings, savoring the vibrant life that pulsed through the fields and trees, knowing that soon enough, she would have to confront the weight of her world once more.

She was just about to turn around, careful to shield her fragile mood from the watchful eyes of her boss. After all, she didn't want him to think for a second that she was feeling "good" today; the slightest hint of positivity could easily be misconstrued as an act of defiance against her recent bout of sickness. He had a way of jumping to conclusions, and she could already imagine the scenario in which he confronted her with accusations of faking illness, ultimately leading to an abrupt termination of her employment. Her heart raced at the thought, prompting her to consider her escape.

But just as she began to weave her way towards the door, a familiar silhouette caught her eye. Leaning against the railing outside was Thomas Hewitt, the mute odd man out whose presence often went unnoticed. Clad in his usual dark green work shirt, he seemed to carry a weight heavier than the tools of his trade. She could see he was taking his fifteen-minute break, a moment of solitude that he desperately needed to escape the judgmental whispers and superficial camaraderie of the other male workers. She had always found a strange comfort in his quietness; it was as if the world around him faded into the background, allowing him to exist without the pressures of unnecessary chatter.

Her instincts urged her to keep moving, to slip away unnoticed, but she found herself drawn to him. There was an unspoken understanding in his gaze, a reassurance that spoke louder than words ever could. Perhaps today, amidst her fear and uncertainty, she could find solace in his presence, a connection with someone who also lived on the fringes of their loud workplace world. It was a simple thought, yet it warmed her heart against the cold, anxious grip of her worries about her job and her wellbeing. In that moment, she hesitated, torn between the need to conceal her true self and the inexplicable urge to step forward, to embrace the fleeting comfort of shared solitude.

He faintly smiled at her sudden presence at the slaughterhouse, a gesture that only added to his development of letting her get close to him. In that moment, Thomas felt something stir within him. He knew the world saw him as an outcast, a man beyond fixing, but something about her seemed to recognise the pain that he carried.

His smile faded as he noticed she wasn't looking as normal as she should be, or at least what he remembered what she looked like. Without a second thought, he began to move towards her, the clank of his tools against his belt a testament to his haste. He wanted to take a closer look at her, this woman who saw something in him that the others did not.

As he drew nearer, he could see her skin being more paler than usual, a clear sign that all was not well. His instincts screamed at him to protect this lass, to keep her safe from whatever had been tormenting her. The urge to pull her close, to let her feel the warmth of a hug, was almost overwhelming. Yet, as much as he wanted to reach out, he hesitated. He couldn't risk revealing his emotions. He'd only known pain and rejection, and he couldn't bear to see that look on her face, too. So, he stood, a silent observer, a storm of emotions raging within. But because of that look she gave him, it gave him enough confidence to move a strand of her hair behind her ear. She did not flinch away from his touch, if anything, she allowed him to touch her. Thomas had noticed in the past that she dosen’t let that happen to anybody unless she touches them first. But the fact that she allowed him to touch her head like this meant that she had some trust in him.

Thomas's heart raced as he dared to touch her, the feeling of her skin beneath his calloused fingers making him want to explore further. Her lack of resistance only served to fuel his growing infatuation. The trust she placed in him was both a gift and a burden, as it exposed the depths of his desire for human connection. Unable to control his curiosity, he leaned in closer, wanting to hear the softness of her voice, the subtle sound of her breath. His fingers brushed against her jawline, sending chills down his spine as their connection deepened. This was a moment he couldn't afford to miss, a fleeting chance to show her that, despite appearances, he could be warm-hearted. He was extremly close to her, he had to lower himself enough so that his blue eyes were staring right back at hers. She chuckled weakly at his actions. "What are you doing, Hewitt?"

His heart raced as he heard the delicate sound of her laughter, the dim light glinting off her eyes. His hands trembled slightly, hesitating before he spoke, unsure of what he should say. He wanted to speak, to share the thoughts that consumed him, but his limited verbal communication skills held him back. Before Thomas could do anything further, she spoke up about his break ending soon and that he should go back in to work.

His face contorted in a mixture of confusion and frustration. The idea of going back to work, of resuming his primal existence, seemed a million miles away from the intimate moment they shared. His heart ached as he reluctantly stood, his large frame blocking out the dim light that cast its feeble glow on her face. He hesitated, his gaze flickering between her and the doorway. A low growl emanated from deep within him, a primal sound that signaled both defiance and confusion. But he eventually turned away, his heavy boots crunching on the gravel as he trudged back to the hallways of the slaughterhouse. But before he could fully leave, it was as if an idea suddenly popped into her head.

"I um- Hewitt!" Thomas paused, his large frame frozen in a half-turned position. His eyes shifted back towards her, the deep brown orbs flickering with curiosity. His body tensed, senses attuned to her next words, the butcher knife at his belt feeling slightly heavy as his hand gripped the handle more firmly. As if the idea itself was a bit ridiculous in her mind, she stuttered out a slowly in question.

"Are you available after work?" His brow furrowed, a mix of confusion and intrigue crossing his visage. He cocked his head slightly to the side, his disfigured features twisting in thought. The idea, so alien and yet oddly inviting, swirled within the recesses of his primitive mind. A low growl escaped his lips, the sound both a response and an affirmation. It was a sound that communicated his understanding of the unspoken question, and perhaps, a faint glimmer of hope that their connection might not have to end. But to make sure she got it, he nodded as well.

"A-Ah okay... would you... would you come back to the lake again if I asked you to?" A low, guttural moan escaped his lips, a sound that seemed to answer her question. Thomas normally goes home immediately to help the farm, his body was bound by duty and tradition after all, but a part of him yearned for the respite the lake provided. If she asked, he would come back, seeking the serenity and the fragile connection that had been formed by accident.

The sun dipped low, casting long shadows over the land as Thomas went about his work. But in his heart, he knew that there was a world beyond the cruelty and bloody work. A world where he could be more than the butcher, more than himself. A world where he could, perhaps, share a fleeting moment of peace and companionship with someone who saw past the mask and monstrosities that plagued his existence.

Author's note: This one has got to be one of the longest parts I have ever written before, doing solo I might add, because I have written longer with other people. But this part just exhausted me, I probably repeated a couple of things without even noticing it, so if that is the case, I'm sorry, I got tired.

[fabledenigma]

In the Source Link, you will find a gif pack of Paula Brancati in the horror anthological series - Slasher Season 5. The fifth season is known Slasher Ripper.

Paula plays the role of Viviana Botticelli, the sister of Venetia and older half-sister of Verdi. She only has eyes for Basil Garvey. Paula is one of three actors to have appeared in all five variations of the series. Her previous characters are - Jana Singer (Season 1 - The Executioner); Dawn Duguin (Season 2 - Guilty Party); Violet Lickers (Season 3 - Solstice) and Christy (Season 4 - Flesh and Blood).

Source - FabledEnigma

[multific]

Someone like Me

Richard Pickman x Reader

Summary: You met a man in a pub one evening, and it changed both of your lives forever.

When he brought you to his room to show you his paintings, you didn't know what to expect.

You only met him a couple hours ago in a pub, you were looking for a good time but found something much more interesting.

Richard was very very special, you could tell from the moment your eyes laid on him, and he was also incredibly handsome.

He claimed to be a painter, which peaked your interest.

And so, he guided you into his room.

Upon seeing the drawings, everything in you told you to run. But for some reason, you stayed. 

Then, he pulled away the fabric and put the bulb on, showing you the real paintings.

Your eyes are stuck on a woman.

"My great-grandmother's great grandmother, Lavina." Then you heard him go on about her but your focus began to shift. The painting, as if it moved, you took a step closer. Then you moved to a table where you found his sketchbook. You opened it and saw a couple drawings before he snatched it out of your hand. "What are you doing?! This is private." but then, Richard was taken aback by what you said next.

"You see them too?" his eyes widened. "I always thought I was crazy." he slowly handed back the book and you took it, opening it on a page and pointing at the creature in it. "She always follows me. She said she would protect me, when I'm scared."

"They talk to you as well?" you nodded and after a long time Pickman smiled. "They told me to go to the pub. I would have never gone. They wanted us to meet."

"So, you think what? We are meant to be or something?" you wanted to laugh but after all, this didn't sound so silly when you considered everything.

"I'd say so. You are the first who never got corrupted by the paintings. Others leave, run, or even pass out."

"I know where fear lives." You said as you looked back at his paintings. Despite all of your instincts, you stayed and now you knew why. 

He was just like you.

He took a step towards you and put his arm on your shoulder before pulling you close to his chest.

---

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

             DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

A/N: Photo above is not mine! Credit goes to the owner.

[number1milfloislover]

🙄😒

I feel like we're in a lesbian film renaissance rn (abt time), and what do us gay dudes get, fucking Saltburn.....

[castrateurfate]

god. this is just. it's just fucking tragic. like i really can't fucking believe this shit.

the tl;dr of it all is that this dude spent almost a year working on a fan-novelisation of the fifth (and one of the most hated) halloween movie. when he finished the second to last draft, he sent a pdf copy to a man who runs a publishing house that novelises a lot of cult horror films, Sean Duregger of Encyclopocalypse Publications. sean messaged him back and said that the people who own the rights to the movie were not interested in a novelisation. so the author decided to self-publish the fanfic on amazon.

and then the sean cunt got pissy and harrassed the guy (and also snitching to the large companies) to the point where hollywood bigwigs were mouthing off the guy over... writing fanfic and simply wanting to make some change off it.

he blacklisted the guy from both hollywood and the horror litt industry for simply not doing as he said and not being a slave to the copyright system enforced by mega corporations. it is legitimatley horrible.

the worst thing is that the big companies don't even care. the bastard known as sean is litterally ruining this man's life and future career over PRINCIPLE.

if i haven't seen a bigger demonstration of the horrors of the copyright system, its worshippers, its enforcers and just arrogant bigwig assholes.... this is it.

i hope this blows up like the other call-out docs because this.... is just disgusting.

[thevideodungeon]

Halloween 5: The Revenge of Michael Myers (1989)

Well, this was definitely... a way they could have gone with the series. A lot of setup with very little payoff or explanation. One of those things that makes you ask "did they think they explained that?"

5/10

[tropicoamargo]

This is probably the most biased opinion ever but Scream VI rocks. Like I’m sorry but there isn’t a single movie in the franchise that I don’t love.

This new one it’s so good and the experience in the theaters was amazing like everyone was so fucking pumped. Where there things that I would’ve done better? Yes, but it still fucking rocks.

[loved the opening kill and the sequences]

[babisawyer]

paramount+ has given up on me suddenly so I've only been able to watch a tiny bit of scream 6 so far.

[screams-bitch]

SCREAM VI OFFICAL TRAILER

(I DONT OWN ANYTHING OF THIS VIDEO)

[fabledenigmaeragif]

Gabriel Darku

In the Source Link, you will find a complete gif pack of Gabriel Darku in Slasher: Ripper. Gabriel played the role of Detective Kenneth Rijkers.

Detective Kenneth Rijkers, a young detective trying to solve a series of gruesome murders. He ends up forming a relationship with the wife of the first victim. Gabriel previously appeared on Slasher: Solstice (Season Three) as Connor Rijkers, revealed to be a descendant of his Slasher character. This pack contains episodes 1 - 5, a work in progress. Episode 1 is finished *Contains spoilers and scenes of brutal horror.

Source - FabledEnigma

[final-boy-todd-simmons]

Scream 6 spoilers!! Scroll away if you don’t want to be spoiled!!

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Okay i’m sorry (i’m not) but unpopular opinion Gale should’ve died when she got attacked by Ghostface

[fabledenigma]

In the Source Link, you will find a gif pack of Nataliya Rodina in the horror anthological series - Slasher Season 5. The fifth season is known Slasher Ripper.

Nataliya plays the role of street worker Daisy, one of Horatio's girls. He is particularly fond of Daisy. Nataliya was in the previous season Flesh and Blood - as Aphra.

Source - FabledEnigma

[pinkys-plan]

It's over. I'm finished. I can finally rest 🤘😔

[crawledthru500]

The Redwood Massacre

dir. David Ryan Keith

Star rating: 1/5

fun fact this was my 222th review on Letterbox

(spoilers under the cut)

oh boy. and i thought The Postcard Killings was a bad movie. (it still is)

now, before i tear this to shreds, i will give it some credit. it is a low budget slasher, something not uncommon for the genre. and with the budget, i'll be honest it doesn't look bad!! the gore especially isn't the worst thing in the whole world. i like how dark the blood is, although it does get a bit too dark at the end. i liked some of the cinematography, it was pretty good for it's budget!

alright, now that i'm done being easy on it, i have to address the elephant in the room. the pacing fucking SUCKS. it sucks so bad. it was a snoozefest. i also didn't know a single one of the characters, so keeping track who is who, who is dead and who is alive, was VERY difficult to say the least. i still have NO idea who even saved the final girl. whenever they treat the deaths as a tragedy im just like... ok? i do not know these people... it was very hard to finish. i forgot half the movie before it was even over.

the slasher monster scarecrow lookin' motherfucker is kinda silly. there's a scene where he's picking through body parts and it's so silly. i dont really understand WHAT he is or WHY he's killing?? i don't think that's ever explained, at least i dont remember if it is. there's a scene where he goes to kill the final girl, but he takes FOREVER even though we've seen him kidnap people with ease. his method of execution is also inconsistent which i didn't like.

i said that i didn't know any of the characters, but the ones i did know (the two girls i forget theyre names) i DID NOT LIKE. AT ALL. the final girl was ok but i honestly don't remember anything about her lol. she has the final line -- "fucking farmer" -- which i did giggle a little over.

there's a sequel, which is actually the movie i got when i shuffled the random movie website. it's rated a bit better on Letterbox, so i might give it a shot. but for right now i need a break from The Redwood Massacre

random movie series | random movie website

[eli-chris]

So apparently there's another Scream coming out

Why...just why?