#slipped up one day and the stage blood i was working with started LEAKING EVERYWHERE

[k66-official]

keroro have u ever tried to start a real acting career

All that work to get some of that footage, but it seems the tape's degraded quite a bit... Oh, well, I suppose it has been a few thousand years, kero! Maybe I'll see if I can convince the platoon to do another production with me...

[theladyofdeath]

The Manly Man {Manorian}

31 Days of Halloween: Day 12.

All installments co-written with @snelbz​

Based on a prompt sent in by anon: “Haunted House - staged (Manorian - Dorian is the terrified one)”

Warning: Gore. 

Autumn/Halloween 2020 {Collection}

Manon was practically bouncing where she stood.

There were very few things she loved more than being thrilled, and as Halloween was quickly approaching, she found a no better way to spend her Friday night than to take her boyfriend to a haunted house.

She used to work at one, in high school. She was the zombie-surgeon that picked at the intestines of whomever was lying on her table. It had been fun, thrilling. People would come through her room, scream bloody murder, and Manon would applaud herself for her performance every time. 

Yes, she loved haunted houses.

Dorian didn’t look so sure.

His hands were shoved into his pockets as he looked at the front door up ahead. There was creepy music playing, and lights flashing, and Dorian looked like he was nearly ready to vomit. 

“How you doin’, babe?” Manon asked, eyes narrowed as his throat bobbed. 

“Huh? Oh, good,” he said, nodding a little too quickly. “Yeah, no, I’m good. How are you?”

“Great,” she answered, chuckling. 

They took another step forward in line. 

“So, I want to be clear before we go in there,” Dorian began, clearing his throat. 

Manon chuckled. “Yeah?” 

“I’m a manly man, and I want that to be noted,” Dorian began.

Manon nudged him. “I think we’ve been together long enough that I know exactly how manly you are.”

He proved it, nightly, again and again, just how manly he was. 

“Right,” he continued. “So...when we go in here...just...remember that.” 

“You’re scared,” Manon crooned, slipping her fingers through his. “I didn’t think you were the type to get scared.”

The couple had spent every holiday together in the last year, except for Halloween. They’d started dating just before last Thanksgiving, and every holiday had been absolutely perfect. Now, as they fell deeper and deeper in love, the spookiest season was upon them.

And Dorian was not a fan. 

He never understood the appeal of being scared, never understood how peeing your pants was considered a good time, and yet, here he was.

At one of the scariest haunted houses in the city, taking another step forward in line. 

“I’m not scared,” Dorian replied, at last, shaking his head. “I don’t get scared.” 

“You don’t get scared?” Manon asked. “Because it looks like you’d rather be anywhere but here. You know, if you don’t want to go through the haunted house, we can-.”

“No, no,” Dorian protested, quickly. “I don’t… I’d like to go through, yeah. It looks…fun.”

A series of earth-shattering screams echoed from inside the house. 

Manon squeezed his hand as they took another step forward. They were almost near the front of the line, and the energy had Dorian’s hands trembling.

The one that wasn’t squeezing Manon’s, anyway. 

Once they were next in line, Dorian was about ready to puke.

He hated being scared.

Hated it.

Loathed it.

They entered the building. 

The hallway was dark, although flashing lights were going off against the walls. Dorian’s feet had suddenly become heavier, causing him to move slower. 

So, incredibly slow.

��We’re going to hold up the line,” Manon said, dragging him along. 

“I can’t take my time in this hellhole?” he asked, looking around with every step he took.

“With how terrified you look, I figured you’d wanna get through it as quickly as possible,” she said, quickly, with a sly look on her thin lips. 

He shot her an exasperated look. “Be happy that I love you.” 

Her grin only widened.

They continued down the hall, the sound system throwing out loud, terrifying shrieks and rolls of thunder. The lights were blinking. Dorian had always hated strobe lights, had always found them annoying.

In clubs.

In haunted houses.

Strobe lights sucked.

But then the lights went out entirely. And with a quiet click, one lone light came on behind them. Dorian turned around and looked back to where they’d entered, only to find a solid wall there.

“Fuck,” he whispered and Manon squeezed his hand, which she chuckled softly. He turned back to look down the hallway and they moved forward, towards the corner that seemed to get darker and darker with every step they took.

“You want me to go first?” Manon asked, smirking over at him.

“No, I will,” he said, picking up the pace. At least he tried to.

As he got closer and closer to the corner, unable to see a thing around the edge, he remembered that Manon probably knew what was around the bend. Whether from experience of going through it herself or just a knowledge of what haunted houses usually were, she had an idea. He was both literally and figuratively in the dark.

And he hated every second of it.

Once Dorian came around the corner, clinging to Manon’s hand for dear life, the lights came on the moment they stepped around the wall. A young girl was tied to an electric chair, looking like she was getting electrocuted, blood pouring from her lips, smoke filling the room.

Dorian tried not to jump, but failed.

Manon scoffed, quietly. “Amateurs.” 

“Yeah,” Dorian tried to agree, but his voice cracked, and he was quickly pulling Manon into the next room.

Which was so much worse than the first.

The temperature hit him the moment they walked through the door. Dorian’s foot slipped on something slightly and looked down and gasped as he saw a puddle of blood leaking from a dismembered leg. Manon’s hand was an anchor in his and her other hand gripped his forearm. The frigid temperature unsettled him and as she looked around at the body parts hanging from the ceiling, Dorian really thought he might be sick.

“Come on,” Manon said, gently, pulling him through the room.

He really wanted to look down, to let her pull him through, but his eyes couldn’t look away from everything around him. When they ended up at a large metal table, a man holding a large meat cleaver was slowly sectioning meat off of a bone. He seemed to be focused on his task and just as they were about to pass by, his other first slammed against the table and he held the blade out towards Manon, as he laughed maniacally.

She didn’t even flinch, but Dorian wasn’t proud of the noise that left him. He pulled her toward the door on the far side of the room and tried to move as quickly as he could.

“I’m gonna be sick,” he muttered.

They went through an entry way that led them outside, although the area seemed to be fenced in, which Dorian automatically wasn’t a fan of. It was set up like a trailer park, and there were tall trees surrounding a beat-up trailer. There was a series of coffins scattered across the lawn, and Dorian was scared to move.

“Do you hear banjo music?” Manon whispered.

“Shhh!” Dorian begged, careful for every creeping sound. 

“Come on, there’s a door on the opposite end of the wall we go through,” Manon said, pulling Dorian along.

After a second, Dorian became more comfortable. “Well, this doesn’t seem so ba-.” The world's most unsettling scream flew out of Dorian’s lips as the door to the trailer was thrown open and a man with a chainsaw appeared. He was revving it, and hurrying down the trailer stairs.

Dorian’s screams continued as he hauled ass along the wall of the haunted house until he appeared at the door on the opposite end and flung himself inside.

At some point, he had dropped Manon’s hand.

She appeared a moment later, though, in the doorway, grinning uncontrollably.

Dorian’s hand flew to his chest as he huffed and puffed. “I- my heart has legit never beat as quickly as it’s beating right now.”

Manon couldn’t stop her smile as she wrapped her arms around her boyfriend and rested her chin on his chest and gazed up at him. “You okay?”

He rested his forehead against hers and said, “Please don’t ever ask me to do this again.”

She laughed and leaned up and kissed him. “Come on, scaredy pants.”

Dorian realized he was hearing faint music from down the hall, leading to the next room. They walked closer and it became more and more defined and he slowed down. “Nuhuh. Nope.” He stopped moving. “There’s a fucking clown in there, isn’t there?”

“It’s a haunted house, babe,” she said, dragging him forward. “Of course there’s a clown. There’s a mirror maze, too.”

“Oh, great, so I can’t get lost and it can murder me,” he muttered. “Great.”

“I know the quickest path,” she said, with a comforting squeeze of his hand. “We’ll be through it in no time.”

The walked through the heavy, tattered, velvet curtain and it was worse than Dorian could have ever imagined.

Not only was there a mirror maze, but there were clown paintings, statues, constant laughter from everywhere, disorienting him.

“You better be happy I love you,” he said, terrified to even look at Manon and give someone a chance to jump him.

She just shook her head as she led him through the maze, and with every turn they took, Dorian became more and more convinced that this is the way that he would die. 

And when the clown jumped out from behind a corner and Dorian saw it’s bloody grin in the reflection of the mirror he stood in front of, he was pretty sure he peed his pants, just a little bit.

“Get me the fuck out of here!” he yelled.

Manon’s laughter reverberated throughout the room as she pulled Dorian just a little bit quicker through the maze. 

“The clown has a fucking sledgehammer!” Dorian continued. “My gods, I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to-.”

Manon pulled them out of the maze and instantly into the next room, which once again had Dorian growing queasy. 

Now, he loved Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. It was a classic, a beautiful work of literature. 

What he was looking at now, however, was ruining the classic for him, forever.

A mad scientist was laughing, horridly, as he stood above his table, looking down at his monster. There were body parts in jars, ancient, rusty tools everywhere, and eyeballs scattered along the table.

“Please tell me we’re almost out of here,” Dorian muttered.

She rolled her eyes, but squeezed his hand in a comforting gesture and tugged him through the tamest and shortest room yet. When they walked through the door, his senses on red alert, he was surprised to see they were once again outside and the only thing aside from the back half of the creepy house was a corn maze wrapping back around to the front.

“Oh, sweet Mala, thank the gods,” he said, bending over, resting his hands on his knees and gulping down air. “Never again,” he said, repeating his earlier promise. Manon laughed and when he stood upright again, he took her hand and they walked into the corn maze.

It was a chilly night, but that was fine with him. He’d gotten so hot inside that stupid haunted house that the bite in the air was absolutely welcomed. Not to mention, the sky was gorgeous tonight, stars everywhere, not a cloud in sight.

Manon was in the middle of a story about one of her clients earlier that day when Dorian held up a finger and stopped walking. “Do you hear that?”

He wished he hadn’t seen the smile on Manon’s face when she innocently asked, “Hear what?”

He felt the color drain from his face. “I thought it was over, you said it was over. We’re outside!”

Manon kept walking forward, letting her hand stay on the right wall. “I never said anything. You just assumed. Come on.”

She held out her hand and he quickly took it as the sound of a revving chainsaw grew closer and closer.

“Fuck no!” he yelled, and picked up his pace. He didn’t make it far before a bloodied-up zombie jumped out of the corn stalks, making Dorian scream, yet again. 

Manon was laughing maniacally, which only terrified Dorian even more. 

“If you love me, you’ll get me the fuck out- is that chainsaw getting louder?” Dorian knew he sounded like a complete and utter sissy, but he really didn’t care. 

His heart was nearly pounding out of his chest, and his need to pee was unbearable. 

“We’re almost out,” Manon yelled, dodging her way around a ghostly bride that had just popped out at her. “Hang in there, babe.”

“How the hell are you so calm?!” he yelled, thinking his feet couldn’t move fast enough.

The roaring behind him grew and he turned to find the masked man from before running at them.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, run!” He cried, pulling Manon’s hand harder as he ran.

She kept laughing as they ran through the maze, Dorian’s breathing becoming heavier and heavier.

He could hear the heavy footsteps pounding right behind them and Manon pulled him around a corner and-.

They were out in the fresh air and there were other people dressed in flannel and jeans and the sound of laughter and excitement.

Dorian groaned as they stopped and he realized that this time it really was over.

“Oh, thank the gods,” he breathed and Manon wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Not that bad, right?” She asked, smirking up at him.

Dorian was still breathing heavily, trying desperately to catch his breath. With a groan, he dropped his face into her shoulder and said, “I'm serious. Be glad that I love you.”

Manon just threw her head back and laughed as she patted her boyfriend’s head and walked him to the safety of her car.