Last Resort to Contact Friend

Imagine asking your friend soap to do you a favor when you finally decide to go out drinking and meet some people, right?

"Please, johnny? Just, if anyone is weird I need you to come pretend to be my boyfriend and pick me up." You pace your apartment, picking out clothes while soap groans teasingly.

"Aye. I'll handle it, yeah? Just enjoy yourself and stay off the news."

That's the end of it. You have a backup incase anything happens, you've never known johnny to be the guy to leave you hanging.

It's not until you actually need said lifeline that you begin to curse him. Some guy you thought just wanted to hear about your latest hobby wouldn't take the hint after you shoved his hand off your thigh, so you played up all the disgust you could muster and said "I have a boyfriend, dude. He'll be here soon."

You send the text to soap, praying to god he's quick because the creep is now going on about keeping secrets and—

"Hi, lovie, who's this?" A voice you don't recognize interrupts, and you look up to see a giant, terrifying beast of a man. He's six foot fuck-off and as wide as a damn doorframe.

"Uhm–" you try, stuttering over your words. What the hell do you say that won't end poorly?

"Who the hell is this, then?" The stranger asks, glaring at the creep who's suddenly gone pale. He stumbles in his hast to vacate the seat next to you, muttering something about freaks in masks.

You think, for a moment, that the gods may pity you and the stranger will leave. To your horror, he takes the now empty seat and grunts "you okay? Didn't drink anything?"

"Who the hell are you?" You send another text to soap, because what the fuck where is he??

"Simon. Johnny sent me." The stranger rolls up his mask, takes a sip of your drink then grimaces and pours the rest of it on the floor "good thing you didn't drink it."

....what the hell.

"The one time I go out," you groan, rest your face in your hands, "and I think some guy wants to talk about bugs– and– instead this happens."

The man perks up, pulls his weird skull-painted mask back down, and says eagerly "what kind of bugs?"

Tw: Organ, blood (thank you the flesh)

And last part of the fears illustrations ! The Web, the Eye, the Flesh, the Extinction and the Slaughter !

Continuing the fears drawings with the Hunt, the End, the Spiral, the Stranger and the Vast !

I'm trying to make illustrations for each of the fears, starting with the Buried, the Corruption, the Desolation, the Lonely and the Dark !

you have three hours // we can have forever

bonus:

Rocky: but not my human, his light sensors are broken and he needs ‘glasses’ to fix that or else he can’t navigate the world around him at all

Rocky: and he doesn’t take care of those glasses at all