#spooky szn

[applebugg]

Three young barn owls standing in the stone quatrefoil of Christ Church, Fulmodeston.

[scaryfaiiry]

[hauntedautumnwhispers]

me right now, goodnight 🎃💤

[vorpalfae]

[m4ry4mblog]

what's the name of this aesthetic cause i like it so much

[zweigsangel]

vampire!chris x fem!reader. smut.

you didn’t expect to be alone with chris that night, especially not in the dimly lit corner of his bedroom, where the air felt thick and electric. the house was eerily quiet, and the party downstairs faded into background noise. it felt like the two of you were in your own world.

chris leaned against the windowsill, a cigarette dangling lazily from his lips. his eyes never left you, dark and unreadable, like he was trying to decide something. the glow of the cigarette flared when he inhaled, lighting up his sharp features for just a second. you watched the smoke curl around him, making him look even more dangerous—like something out of a dream you couldn’t quite wake up from.

you weren’t afraid of him, though. not even after you found out what he was. the word vampire should’ve scared you off, should’ve made you run the other way. but instead, it intrigued you. chris was intoxicating, with his sharp edges and soft whispers, the way he made you feel like the only person in the room even when you weren’t.

"you know why i wanted you up here, right?" his voice was low, almost a growl, like the cigarette had been burning in his throat, not just his lungs. there was a teasing glint in his eyes, but behind it, something more. something hungry.

you swallowed, feeling your pulse quicken. "i have an idea," you said, though your voice came out quieter than you intended. your gaze drifted to his lips, and you wondered if they were as cold as his skin looked, or if the fire in his eyes would burn through the cold.

he took another drag of his cigarette, exhaling slowly before throwing it out the window. he stepped closer and you could feel the change in the air, like the temperature dropped around him. there was no denying what he was. a predator. but somehow, that only made you want him more.

with a quick movement, his hand was on your hip, pulling you closer, the cold touch of his fingers startling against your heated skin. "you’re not scared of me, are you?" he murmured, his lips brushing your ear, his breath cool against your skin. "should i be?"

chris tilted his head, his eyes tracing the curve of your throat. "most people would be." his voice was almost teasing, but there was something else behind it. something darker. you leaned in closer, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. "i’m not most people," you whispered.

his eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the heat between you was undeniable. slowly, his hand slid up your arm, fingers tracing your skin, sending sparks through your body. "no, you’re not," he agreed, his voice soft but heavy with meaning.

then, before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours. the kiss was soft at first, almost hesitant, but it quickly turned hungry, desperate, like he was trying to drink in every part of you. you felt his cool lips press harder against yours, and your body responded in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

you could feel the sharp points of his fangs grazing your bottom lip, a reminder of who—what—he was. but it only made you want him more. the danger of it all sent a thrill through you, like you were playing with fire and didn’t care if you got burned.

he pulled back slightly, just enough to let his lips hover over yours, his breath cool against your skin. "you don’t know what you’re getting into," he whispered, though the way his eyes darkened told you he was already losing control.

"maybe i do," you replied, your voice daring, breathless. with a low growl, he kissed you again, harder this time, his hands gripping your hips. without warning, he lifted you onto his lap, your legs straddling him as you found yourself pressed up against him, the intensity of his body against yours making your breath catch. your hands instinctively moved to his shoulders to steady yourself, the thrill of being so close to him, feeling his body under yours, sent a wave of heat through you.

the kiss was rough, demanding, his hands pulling you tighter against him as if he couldn’t get enough of you. your body reacted on its own, grinding against him, and you felt the low growl rumble in his chest as his grip tightened, pulling you down harder onto his lap.

you gasped into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair as he deepened the kiss, his cool lips and sharp teeth driving you crazy. there was no denying the power he had over you, the way your body responded to him, craving more even as you knew there was a dangerous edge to everything he did.

he broke the kiss, panting slightly, his forehead resting against yours for a moment as if he was trying to catch his breath—or maybe trying to keep control. "you’re driving me fucking crazy," he muttered, his voice thick with lust as his hands roamed over your body, gripping your hips, your waist, anywhere he could touch.

"yeah?" you breathed out, your voice barely a whisper. before you could react, he flipped you onto the bed, his body pressing against yours, pinning you down beneath him. his hands were on your skin in an instant, pulling your shirt off with a roughness that made your heart skip. his lips followed, kissing and biting his way down your neck, over your collarbone, until he reached the curve of your chest.

you moaned softly as his cool lips met your skin, your back arching into him, desperate for more of his touch. he growled against your skin, his hands sliding down to undo your jeans, tugging them off in one quick motion before he pressed himself against you again, his lips finding yours once more.

"you have no idea how hard i’ve been trying not to do this," he whispered against your lips. "stop trying, please," you whispered back, your hands sliding down his back, pulling him closer, needing more of him, all of him.

and then he did. there was no more holding back, no more restraint. his hands moved over your body like he was memorizing every inch, his lips trailing fire down your skin, leaving you breathless, gasping for more.

you felt his fangs graze your neck again, and this time, when he bit down, it was pure pleasure that washed over you, your body arching into him, craving everything he could give. the mix of pain and pleasure blurred together until you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began, and all you knew was that you wanted him, needed him, in every possible way.

he undid his pants with a flick of his hand, pressing his body against yours as he positioned himself between your legs. the anticipation sent a shiver through you, and when he finally pushed inside you, a gasp tore from your throat, your body arching into his. the sensation was overwhelming—the coolness of his body mixing with the heat of yours, the way he moved, deliberate and slow at first, building up into something deeper, something harder.

chris' hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you into him with each thrust, his lips finding your neck again, biting softly but not enough to break the skin, just enough to tease. your fingers dug into his back, urging him on, your breath coming out in ragged gasps as the pleasure built inside you, growing more intense with every movement.

he started moving faster, rougher, and the bed creaked under the force of his body against yours. his hand slid between your thighs, fingers pressing in just the right spot, making your body tremble with the sensation. you were losing yourself to him, completely overtaken by the way he felt, the way he moved, the way his body consumed yours.

your moans filled the room, louder and more desperate with each thrust, and you could feel him losing control, his grip tightening, his breath ragged against your neck. you were both close, the tension building between you until it felt like you were on the edge of something explosive.

"i can't—" he growled against your skin, his hips slamming into yours with a final, hard thrust that sent you over the edge. your body shook, pleasure rippling through you in waves, and you cried out his name, your fingers gripping his hair as you held onto him, lost in the overwhelming sensation.

he followed right after, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips as his body tensed, his hips grinding into yours, the release so intense it left you both breathless, tangled in each other.

the room fell into silence, save for the sound of your heavy breathing. chris collapsed beside you, his arm draped over your waist, pulling you close. you could feel the coolness of his skin, but somehow, it comforted you, grounding you after the intensity of what just happened.

"you okay?" he asked, his voice softer now, but still thick with exhaustion. you nodded, your body still buzzing, a lazy smile on your lips. "yeah," you breathed, turning your head to meet his gaze. chris smirked, his hand tracing lazy circles on your hip. "good, because i'm not done with you." his voice held that teasing edge again, but there was a promise behind it.

you felt your heart race again, knowing full well that there was no turning back.

[thathalloweenyfeeling]

[carm3n-carm3n]

🍂🍎🎃🕸

[widdle-sweetpea]

Halloween/Autumn themes userboxes for you QTs :)

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Finding Refuge.

Chapter One

Surrvivng a Zombie Apocalypse with Terry

He was running low on tea bags.

His ever-changing eyes glanced over at a haphazardly placed calendar within the abandoned diner, red sharpie slashes his tally of keeping track of the days. How did things turn upside down in 204 days? A general assault on civilization.

The poorly placed charcoal-gray henley he wore was hanging on by a thread. The jeans that were once his favorite pair bore holes and debris on them. He’d salvaged an old pair of Doc Martens to keep his feet protected. Hands covered in fingerless gloves carefully wrapped around the tin mug before him. He puckered his lips to blow away some of the steam wafting from the mug before taking a tentative sip.

Terry Richmond was a survivor. The collapse of society around him pushed him harder. An ex marine having to use his skills every single day. How was it that the sky turned an almost sickly green? Like he was in the middle of Chernobyl. There wasn’t a place surrounding him that didn’t smell of death and despair. The screams and cries from those once whole became quieter as the year climbed to an end.

His sculpted jaw clenched and he closed his tired eyes for a few seconds. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had decent sleep. Traveling between the barricaded diner he’s currently sitting in alone and an old farm house in the middle of acres of land, he’s always on high alert. The faintest rustling woke him from a two minute nap. He was too afraid to start the pick-up truck he’d salvaged, not wanting those flesh-eating bastards to find him.

They’d already found his cousin.

Stop with those thoughts, he’s alive, Terry’s inner voice spoke.

In one day, the world succumbed to a pestilence that decimated the living. In its place rose a new species: vicious, gruesome, wandering zombies with an insatiable hunger for the living. What started out as a trip to Shelby Springs, turned into an apocalyptic nightmare. The world shut down. The money in a Kan Long Chinese bag wasn’t worth anything. Just thirty-six thousand dollars that can’t be used.

Terry remembered that day. It was a constant battle to keep the images from his mind. He remembered rushing into that hospital in Shelby Springs, carrying Summer in his arms, frantically asking for help while she bled out from a wound in her neck. In a matter of hours she changed. The once sweet, gentle woman he’d known turned into a monster. An undead beast. A ghoul with teeth bared, charging at him…

March 31st, 2024:

Terry’s hazel eyes popped open immediately at the sound of terror cries and pleading. His but felt numb from the hard surface of the chair he was sitting in within Summer’s room at the hospital. He shot up from his seated position, staring down at the vacant hospital bed. The tubing that was once attached to her arms, was dripping to the cold floor. His unblinking stare followed what appeared to be bloody footsteps towards the bathroom door that’s ajar.

Yellow light seeped through the crack of the door, and as Terry reached out to open it, more cries and hurried footsteps erupted again. He jerked his hand away, heading towards the door. Terry yanked it open, rushing into the chaos without hesitation. His head rotated from left to right and the imagery before him was something out of a movie. Staff were being charged and attacked by patients with a cannibalistic nature. Terry back-tracked into the room, stunned and confused.

“Summer…”

Creak…

Slowly, his head turned towards the bathroom door. There, standing within the doorway, looking like a corpse walking, was Summer. She looked as if she were rotting. Her bare feet shuffled closer, and there was this hungry look in her dark blue eyes. Terry stepped towards the door, keeping his eyes locked on her. Summer made snarling, sniffing noises and when she opened her mouth, blood poured down her chin.

“Wha–what the fuck?” Terry spoke with a hushed tone.

Suddenly, Summer charged him startling Terry when she clung onto his shirt. The force knocked Terry off his heels and they barged out into the hallway. The ruckus gained the attention of the others that looked like her, and they slowly made their way over. They were seemingly satisfied with their meals. Bodies lined the floor like an open graveyard.

“Get the fuck off me, Summer!”

Terry had to wrap his large hand around Summer’s frail neck. Disgust and disbelief washed over his face when he came into contact with her sunken flesh and blood. She smelled vile, and she looked exactly how a zombie would look in movies. Terry was sure that’s what Summer was now. A zombie. The walking dead. And with that knowledge, he didn’t care to hurt her. She wasn’t Summer anymore.

Terry shoved her away and sprinted down the hall, bumping past another zombie that tried to grab his arm. His heart throbbed in his chest and his feet propelled him forward as fast as he could run. Terry didn’t even allow the sliding doors to open fully before he barged out into the humid night. He made his way towards Summer’s Volkswagen, fumbling for her keys that he had within the pocket of his jeans. He frantically looked up with wide, terror-stricken eyes at the zombies in the hospital killing and spreading their virus.

Terry forced the driver’s side door open and climbed in quickly. Starting the engine, he reversed before making a tire–screeching turn, leaving the hospital behind. Out on the road, he bear witness to innocent blood being shed. Swerving, Terry maneuvered the car away from a few head–on collisions that came at him. The only thing on his mind was to stay alive and get his cousin. That’s what he came to do anyway. He sold his truck to help bail Mike out of jail so they could make an honest living for themselves.

Looks like that won’t ever happen.

Terry flew down the road towards the police station. Once there, he left the car and ran towards the entrance. From what it looked like, there was no police in sight. They were all out trying to figure out what was going on. Terry flung the doors open, the sound of landlines ringing off the hook. He took it upon himself to look for where they were holding Mike. Sweaty and pumped with adrenaline, Terry found himself deep within the station, surrounded by locked rooms that must have been used for interrogation.

“Mike! Yo! Mike!”

Terry started banging against the doors, unable to see inside of the rooms because of how tiny the plexiglass panel is. He was ready to give up and try Town Hall when the familiarity of his cousin’s voice led him towards the last room on the right. Relief washed over him as he jiggles the doorknob, finding it locked tight.

“Mike…you in there?!” Terry shouted.

“Terry? That you?! What’s going on?! How the fuck did you get back here past these cops?!”

“M…listen,” Terry had to catch his breath, “I’m gonna find a way to get this door down—”

“No you don’t, boy. Back away from the door…”

Terry froze. He cut his eyes towards an officer he hadn’t noticed. He had his weapon pointed at Terry’s head, ready to unload at any moment.

“Hands up! NOW!”

“Officer, I need you to listen—”

“I SAID HANDS UP! YOU LISTEN TO ME WHEN I’M TALKIN’ TO YOU!”

Terry pursed his full lips angrily, eyes glued to the door that separated him from his cousin. Slowly and reluctantly, Terry’s hands rose and he placed them on his head.

“Turn around…”

Terry dragged his feet, his built body shifting. He faced the officer, a white man of average height with ginger hair and a pudgy face. In Terry’s mind, he could do some long–lasting damage on this officer. He’s a veteran soldier who is torn over the loss of many. He can be cruel and both merciless, but instead he chooses to be the bigger man. He’d had enough of the crooked cops in this fucked up town. Sick of the insults and threatens.

“What ‘til the Chief sees this—”

“Do you want to die?”

The offer stared Terry down like he’d lost his mind saying those words to him.

“DO YOU? Looks like I’m the one with the gun. I’d choose my next words wisely…”

“You see,” Terry lowers his hands, eyes menacing, “I ain’t got time for another run–in with you mother fucka’s. Now, I’m assuming you have the keys to my cousin’s freedom. Open the door, or I’m a take them off you myself.”

“FUCK YOU—”

Terry charged, dodging a bullet to the chest and one strong, muscular arm close lined the officer, knocking the wind out of him and sending him flying. Terry hovered over him, one fist yoking him up by his vest and the other delivering a nose–crushing jab to the face. He yanked the gun from his grasp and placed it in his back pocket. He couldn’t afford to discharge his weapon. He was going to need it. There were bigger fish to fry.

“KEYS. Don’t make me repeat myself.” Terry barked out with rage lacing his deep baritone.

“Ba–back pocket,” The officer tried to form words through missing teeth.

Terry viciously turned the officer onto his stomach and he pat him down until he could feel the outline of the keys. He snatched them from his pocket and put his boot against his head to keep him still while cuffing him . The officer struggled, but he was no match for Terry’s strength.

Terry pressed his mouth to the officer’s ear, “Move again, and I’ll crack your head open on this floor.”

Terry pushed himself onto his feet and with heavy, profound breaths, he marched over to Mike’s door. Once opened, Mike shot up from one of the chairs, hands cuffed behind his back. None of the keys in Terry’s hands would uncuff Mike. Mike smiled at his cousin, and Terry wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“Listen, Mike, look…there’s some shit goin’ on out there that ain’t got time to be explained. We gotta bounce…I’m serious cuz. We gotta go. Get far away from this fuckin’ town and fast—”

“What? What’s good? Cops on your ass? Why you here getting caught up in my mess, lil’ cuz—”

“You family. That’s it and that’s all. Now let’s go…”

“Okay, okay…what about,” Mike turned to show Terry his restrained hands.

“We’ll figure it out, come on!”

Terry shoved Mike towards the door and when they stepped out into the hall, Mike’s left foot flew into the officer’s side, causing him to whimper in pain. Terry had to give Mike another push to get him to focus.

Too late.

“Yo…Terry…you seeing this?”

Dread lined Terry’s features. Zombies. A group of them. Slowly approaching the front with slow, unsteady movements. Terry dragged a hand down his face, locking eyes with Mike who stared back with a frightened look in his eyes.

“Am I tripping, or do they look like fucking zombies?!”

Terry searched the area. He had no way of getting to the car without reinforcements.

“They can’t get in,” Terry grabbed Mike by the arm, leading him into the main area of the station, “Let’s get your cuffs off right now and get as much ammo to blow every last one of their heads OFF.”

Mike stood in the middle of the room while Terry tore the place apart. Papers cascaded to the floor and chairs were overturned. Finally, he found a pair of keys on the Chief’s desk sitting next to a mug of lukewarm coffee. Guess he didn’t have time to collect them when he rushed out. Terry jogged over to Mike and fit the key into the cuffs, successfully removing them. Mike rubbed his wrists frantically while Terry used the same keys to open the property room. He wanted his money, and he wanted protection. Mike was confused and afraid, following Terry’s every move, filling duffel bags with anything they could grab.

“Just pile the shit in, fam. No time to think about the consequences,” Terry tossed Mike another empty bag, “Them cops probably dead anyway. Fuck them.”

“What did I just see?”

Mike was talking to himself more than anything. Terry paused, staring up through his thick lashes at his cousin.

“How the fuck did I end up in this town and surrounded by zombies? This gotta be a nightmare.”

Terry tried to control his breathing. He stood at his towering height, satisfied with what they grabbed.

“As much as I wanna know what’s going on, we need to get to safety. A friend of mine that was helping me is…she’s one of them,” Terry tilted his head towards the exit, “She ain’t got no life in her. You can't negotiate with a zombie. They have only one impulse—that's to eat us or our brains. And I didn’t come all this way to turn into the undead. Understand?”

“Y–Yeah…I hear you.”

“Do you? Because we gotta run for our life to that car once we hit this door behind us. Can I count on you for that, Mike?”

“Yeah…yeah. Run fast, don’t look back…Let’s do this.”

Terry tightened his jaw and gave Mike a firm nod before extending his hand out. Mike dabbed Terry, clinging on tight before letting go. They threw the heavy bags across their bodies, and took long strides towards the exit. Terry peeked out, and he couldn’t see any zombies, but he made sure the gun in his hand was ready to fire. Gently, he pushed the door open, his eyes casing out the area. It was dark and silent. Terry looked back at Mike over his shoulder, bringing a finger to his mouth to shush him as they walked.

Crouching low, they quietly walked towards the front of the station. Terry smoothed his hand against the concrete wall, sweat dripping from the tip of his nose and onto his bottom lip. He looked back at Mike, thankful that he did because there was a zombie far behind them, sniffing the air like an animal to its prey. Terry didn’t alert Mike, not wanting him to panic. It were far enough away from them both.

Terry pressed his back against the wall and slowly peeked around the corner. The zombies were scattered, but none were hovering around the car. Sirens blared in the distance, and the sound acted as a distraction. The blue and red lights drew closer and the zombies took notice, rerouting themselves towards the dirt road. Terry kept his eyes locked forward on his target, but his left hand made a come–hither motion at Mike.

With no time to waste, at a breakneck speed, the cousins made a beeline for the Volkswagen. Two police cruisers began to approach and they were centimeters away from the car. Mike lost his footing on gravel and that didn’t fall on deaf ears. Two Zombies turned their undead eyes towards their direction. Panicked, Mike pushed up from the ground, dragging the bags against the dirt. Terry rushed over to help, eyes wide when a Zombie picked up speed.

They moved fast?

Terry aimed the gun and fired, blowing the zombies head off and painting the dirt with its non–functional brain.

Whoop! whoop!

“TERRY RICHMOND?!”

Fires let off. Terry crouched down behind the car.

“THERE’S MORE! THEY’VE SWARMED THE STATION!”

“CALL FOR BACK UP—”

Pop! Pop! Pop!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

“CALL FOR BACKUP ALL UNITS TO THE STATION! THIS IS 105! DO YOU COPY?!”

Terry remains low to the ground and it was only a matter of time before they were either gunned down or eaten. Zombies ranked them from all sides. Police shooting. Terry opened the back door and flung his bag and Mike’s into the seat. Slamming the door, Terry aggressively shoved Mike to move into the car.

“GET IN THROUGH THE DRIVERS SIDE! NOW!”

Spit flying and veins popping out of his neck, Terry unloaded the clip into Zombies that were close enough to do damage. He could hear glass shattering behind him and some of the shards fell over his body. With all possible haste, he dropped the empty gun to the ground and climbed into the drivers side just in time to slam the door on a Zombies fingers. He started the ignition, Mike keeping himself low to avoid gunfire. Terry picked up speed, flying out of the area.

It didn’t matter that he crashed into police cruisers, he needed to get away. Bullets ricocheted off of the car, Terry hoping that a bullet won’t pierce a tire. This was their only transportation option. A bike would only get them killed and walking was much worse. Once they made it out onto the main road, Terry brought the car to a slow stop. Engine roaring, Mike and Terry sat in solemn silence. No room for conversation. After some minutes, Terry put the car back in drive, Summer’s home their destination and hiding place.

She had a little girl.

She was fighting to stay clean for her little girl.

Terry was thankful for the darkness. He didn’t want Mike to see his tears.

Calloused hands gripped the leather steering wheel to stop himself from breaking down…

Day 201:

“Hello? Mike? Do you copy?”

Terry peeked between the wood planks he nailed into the window frame from the outside of an old farm house. Nightfall was approaching.

“Come in, Mike. It’s Terry. Are you waiting out?”

Terry clicked off on his walkie talkie, waiting two minutes before speaking again.

“This is Terry. I spell, D-U-B-L-I-N. Do you copy?”

That’s where he was currently located. In rural Georgia. Far from Louisiana. He knew staying here for as long as he did was dangerous. Their plan was to keep moving at all costs. Terry flopped down on the sofa, facing defeat once more. He snatched his black beanie from his head and stared forward into the fireplace. The orange embers warmed his skin. As his eyes dragged up the fireplace, he stared into the face of a family of five.

The creeping sensation of vomit left a bad taste in his mouth. He pushed himself up to his boot–covered feet, stomping over to that picture. Terry flipped the framed portrait over, just like he’d done the others. His piercing eyes shut tightly, flickers of what he’d done to this family a painful memory. They weren’t themselves anyway, Terry had to remind himself of that as his lids slowly opened.

A single tear cascaded down his handsome face and before it could reach his overgrown mustache, he flicked it away with a scarred knuckle. Sniffling back his remaining sadness, Terry brought the walkie talkie to his mouth again. He exhaled, clenching his jaw with frustration. How could he just up and leave like that?

Terry knew the reality of their situation from day one. Mike never accepted it. He wanted to go back home to his girlfriend and his parents. He fought day in and day out to keep moving. While Terry already formulated in his mind that the people he once knew were most likely dead and gone, Mike couldn’t face that reality. Tension grew between them, and soon raging arguments. Terry woke up one morning while they were staying in an abandoned warehouse to Mike gone. Terry could only deal with it like he had to deal with his new life.

Surrounded by death.

And with all of that, he still had hopes that Mike was alive.

“Mike. This is Terry…are you safe man?”

He couldn’t shadow the tremble in his voice.

Silence.

Terry squeezed the walkie talkie to the point of shattering it.

He needed some air—oh wait—he can’t step outside or else they’d spot him.

He wanted to scream—oh no—they’d hear him and come searching.

Back on the couch, Terry sat the walkie talkie down on the coffee table. He picked up his bowl of beans and continued eating. Canned goods were essential. He planned on finding refuge some place safer soon so he could plant food and hunt. Even through the apocalypse, Terry kept himself in shape. He needed to be. Without endurance and strength, how else would he defend himself?

Semper Fidelis.

Latin for ‘Always faithful’

the motto of every Marine—an eternal and collective commitment to the success of their battles, the progress of their Nation, and the steadfast loyalty to the fellow Marines they fight alongside. One of many things he couldn’t shake from the Corps.

“Ooh-rah.”

Saying the battle cry always seemed to remind him that he was in constant danger.

After eating his beans, Terry cleaned up and made his way to bed. He set a timer on his watch, making sure to be up by a certain time to wash. Without proper plumbing, he had to result to his outdoor survival skills. Luckily, there was a creek nearby that he could escape to for a quick cleanse every morning.

He slept in a white T-shirt and black sweats. Terry glanced over at his walkie talkie sitting on the night stand. His anxiousness got the best of him, and he grabbed it, pressing the button for the final time that evening.

“D-U-B-L-I-N.”

He held his finger firmly on the button, the static loud within his ears. Just when he was about to give up, a voice on the other end had him sitting up in bed.

“Hello? Hello?”

Terry didn’t recognize that voice. His pulse rate was through the roof. Finally. Finally after almost two months of no contact. But who was this? Even through the static and bad signal, he could tell it was a voice of a woman.

“This is Terry. Who is this?”

It was silent for five seconds before they responded.

“Are you somewhere safe?”

“You answer my question first.” Terry replied angrily.

“My name is R–”

“Say again?”

“My name is Rae. Are you somewhere safe?”

Terry hesitated answering. Rightfully so his trust was lost. This Rae had Mike’s walkie…

“Hello? Terry?”

She had the most sincere voice with a captivating southern drawl.

“Hello?”

“I’m safe.”

“Dublin?”

“Where is Mike?”

“I don’t know a Mike. I found this walkie talkie. Here in Senoia.”

Terry scrunched his face in confusion. That’s nearly two hours away. He must of been on his way back to Louisiana. Terry’s stomach tightened with worry. Maybe something got to Mike before he could get to Louisiana…

“Mike is my cousin. He left me in Dublin for almost two months. I’ve been trying to reach him.”

“I’m sorry, Terry. I’ve never met your cousin.”

“Where in Senoia did you find this?”

“Near a work zone.”

“Okay…I don’t know you, Rae, but…I could use some…some help. Maybe Senoia will give me that…”

Terry paced the bedroom, walkie pressed against his mouth. He scratched at his scruffy beard impatiently, waiting for Rae to speak.

“Radio check. What’s your signal, Rae?”

His nerves were a wreck. His patience was low.

“I’m sorry. Bad signal where I am. Uhm…meet me near the famous train tracks…I can help.”

“Train trac–listen, I’m gonna need more than that.”

“It won’t be hard to miss. I gotta go—”

“Negative. I need to know that I can trust you and that I’m not walking into a trap.”

“How else will you know if you don’t take a chance? If you want my help, you’ll show up. I have to go, it’s too many ears close by. Goodbye for now, Terry.”

“Rae. Stand by…I’ll be in contact.”

Terry waited for a response, but none came.

@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @blackerthings @deja-r @kanafunee @helloncrocs @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @dremmmm @blackpinup22 @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @kokokonako @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @playgurlxoxo @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @madamzola @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter

[hauntedautumnwhispers]

[vorpalfae]

[reibudraws]

Grave Digger

[fallbreeze-autumnleaves]

[thehalloweenhub]

10 TV Episodes for Halloween (part one)