Trashpanda

I’m not dead, I swear. I just lost interest in Tumblr for a long time, but I might return on a semi-permanent basis. 

I found joy in writing again, so enjoy this small piece I created!

Warnings: Mention of alcohol

You don’t remember much of your former life before the Trials. You have some glimps of a small house in a suburban neighbourhood. Was it yours, or maybe your family? Did you even have a family? Was the memory even real, or did that Thing put it in your head? A false glimmer of something happy? A comfort in this eternal Darkness? Who knows? You sure didn’t. You didn’t know much except that you needed to survive the Trials. They would happen once or twice a day, depending on what that Thing was up for. One thing was certain; You would be sacrificed most of the time.

That Thing, otherwise known as The Entity, ruled this realm. Or… Was it even a realm? Was this the afterlife? You wouldn’t know, but you would believe those who were here before you. A gang of people, everyone stolen by the Entity, all from different places of the planet, maybe even different time-periods. They would tell you to not worry about anything. You would never die here, never feel hunger or feel the need to sleep. The quicker you became relaxed, the better it would be for you. “Don’t let your guard down” they’d say. “But come to terms with you never leaving this place”.  

The days were short and nights long. It was torture, so you would find a way to make the days go by. Is there even days here? Maybe the Entity just resets everything back to square one and it repeats itself over and over again. You didn’t know, nor did you care. You were here, no way out. You were stuck here for all of eternity.

Whenever you were lucky enough to not be in a Trial you would wander the Realm. Get your mind off of things, maybe think of something else than being chased by a madman with a machette. Or chainsaw. Or shocktreatment… Not to worry about being sacrificed to the Entity. Your shoulder was numb after all the hookings. The hooking, feeling the blood run down your body was far too familiar to you now. But it was the Darkness that scared you. You were scared this was the last time you’d see it, feel it… Last time you’d take a breath. You shake the thoughts off of your mind for now. You wanted to clear your mind, not make it worse.

The Entity had opened a new doorway, a new place to be chased and sacrificed. The dusty worndown sign said “Glenvale”. It looked like a old western town, dusty and abandoned. Anything left alive was a couple of crows and volchures. Old carriges were scattered around the streets, some watering trough was placed outside the saloon. The saloon was dusty like everything else, but the piano kept playing this tune. It made you uneasy, but it didn’t bother you too much. The bar had some old bottles in the shelves, and the tables were barely standing. It reminded you of those old Western Cowboy movies. Movies… You remember movies. You would watch them every hour of the day if given the chance. You remember the screen, but not any faces. The actors were almost sensored from your mind, but not the scenery. The scenery plays so cleary in your head. Big cities, far away planets, the deep seas.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard footsteps. Heavy footsteps, rythmic and determend footsteps approached the saloon quickly. You shook the feeling of feeling secure out of your mind as your Survivor-instincts kicked in. You instantly hid behind the bar, hoping whoever was approaching didn’t see you. You held your breath as you heard the creaking of the floorboards getting closer. You heard a loud thud and a groan followed by a chair by the bar creak. Someone was sitting by the bar. You cursed in your mind, regretting coming here. Now you were sure to die, you just knew it. You were sweating, shaking, but holding your breath. You had to get out without being seen.

You tilted your head back looking up. You saw a hat on the bar, a hat way to familiar. It belonged to the new Killer. We called him the Deathslinger. The  harpoongun must have been the thud you heard. But you didn’t see the Killer, but you heard him. His breathing was deep and hoarse, but something was different. It sounded… tired? Exhausted?

You couldn’t think about this, you had to get away!

You started to crawl on all four, being cautious with every move to not make a sound.

You made your way forward, slowly and silently.

Movement behind you!

You stop breathing and stop dead in your tracks, sweat dripping down your forhead down to the floorboards under you.

You slowly turn your head to see if the Killer was watching you. To your relief he was only stretching over the bar to grab one of the bottles. You let out the smallest sigh and keep crawling your way to the doors leading out of the saloon.

Creak

A lose floorboard. You stop once again, listening for movement. Nothing. It was dead silent. No movement, no…breathing. You slowly turn around to be face to face with the Killer. He must have seen you as he reached for the alcohol. You turn pale, you shake uncontrollably and your breath is panicked. You open your mouth ready to let out a shocked shriek.

The Killers hand covers your mouth, his face not changing expression. You’re panicking even more, you grab his forearm and try to yanking it away. But he was too strong, and you knew it. This is it, you thought. This is how you die; in the hands of a Killer, literally.

“The hell you doin’ here, girl?” He asked in a strict voice. “You ain’t supposed to be ‘ere.” He let go of your mouth, but you didn’t finish your shriek. You took a deep breath, relaxing your body and whiping the sweat off your face with the sleeve of your dirty and worn sweatshirt.

“I-I-I just wanted to-to-to…” You manage to stutter out a few words before he cuts you off, much angrier this time.

“Entity got yer tongue? Whatchu want 'ere, huh? Came 'ere to torment me more?”

Torment? The Killer? You slowly get on your feet, not taking your eyes off the Killers face. His face didn’t look that  damaged here. Maybe the Entity does something to the Killers to make them look scarier. His eyes weren’t white or glowing, they were… Blue, atleast something close to it. His scar covering half of his face in the Trials is nothing but a mark here. He looked like a human here.

“Tormen—Torment you?! You’re the one hooking us! Besides, I just wanted to clear my head! It’s not against the rules to wander!” You protest, crossing your arms to make your point. The Killer just waves his hand at you, gesturing for you to leave.

“Bah! I ain’t got time for melodrama. girl. Either ya 'ave a drink with me or ya get the fuck out.” He said in a tired manner, sitting down at the bar again.

Have a drink with the Killer? You’re not sure if he’s joking or not, but he’s not chasing you.

He gestured for you to sit in the chair next to him.

“Ya comin’ or what?” he asked, pouring two glasses with… something. The label was so faded you couldn’t even see the color of the liquid inside. But by the looks of what was in the glass, it was old.

“Don’t…you want to kill me?” You ask carefully. You were confused to say the least. Why on Earth would a Killer want to have a drink with a Survivor?

“I ain’t gonna kill ya, don’t ya worry. I just want some company, that’s all.” he shrugged, taking a sip from his drink. With a grimace on his face, he swallowed the liquid, shaking his head.

“Fucking 'ell, tastes like shit. But it calms the nerves, ya know?” He turned his gaze torwards you, racing his glass.

“It ain’t poison, atleast not the deadly one.” he chuckles. “Come on, humor me, would ya?”.

You didn’t like the idea of drinking with a Killer, but it was better than nothing. You made your way to the chair next to him, quickly grabbing the glass with the mysterious liquid. One quick smell of it made you gag, but you didn’t want to offend the man who just offered you a drink. And he spared your life, who knows what he would do if you refused? You drink the liquid, forcing it down your throat. You cough, covering your mouth as you didn’t want it in return. The Killer laughs, looking at you.

“As I said, it ain’t the best. But ya’ll get used to it. Ya can’t be a beggar here, girl.” He shrugged, finishing his drink. You swirl your glass, looking at the patterns in the liquids left by you turning the glass.

“Y/N.” You said, giving him a crooked smile. “My name is Y/N.” The Killer turns to you, raising his glass.

“Charmed. Ya’ll call me Deathslinger, but my real name is Caleb. Caleb Quinn. Ya call me what ya want.”.

The Killer Slayer 

Soooo…been awhile.

Been playing A LOT of Dead By Daylight recently with @thekingsparty. Felt like drawing our survivor mains. 

Monday Morning

These are gifs of marine iguanas. Scientists figure that land-dwelling iguanas from South America must have drifted out to sea millions of years ago on logs or other debris, eventually landing on the Galápagos. From that species emerged marine iguanas, which spread to nearly all the islands of the archipelago.

Each island hosts marine iguanas of unique size, shape and color.They look fierce, but are actually gentle herbivores, surviving exclusively on underwater algae and seaweed. Their short, blunt snouts and small, razor-sharp teeth help them scrape the algae off rocks, and their laterally flattened tails let them move crocodile-like through the water. Their claws are long and sharp for clinging to rocks on shore or underwater in heavy currents.

They have dark gray coloring to better absorb sunlight after their forays into the frigid Galápagos waters. And they even have special glands that clean their blood of extra salt, which they ingest while feeding. (Source)