Eli =]

Slasher Masterlist

Homicipher Masterlist

—"(Y/N)?"—

A smooth and a tag raspy voice yainked (Y/N) out of their thoughts.

—"Y-Yes... I'm so sorry Mr. Olsen. I'm still a bit... Y'know."— you reply, shifting on your seat uncomfortably. —"...Shaken up."—

The man hums, his dark, nearly black eyes focused on them, silently studying their expression and body language.

—"We've seen each other quite a lot lately, I think I told you there is no need for formalities."— he chuckles, which made you involuntarily laugh too.

—"Sorry sorry, Jed. You know how I am."—

—"Hehehe, believe me, I do."—

His gaze momentarily shifts to a voice recorder placed on his desk.

—"Are you okay with me recording this meeting?"—

Now it's (Y/N) that chuckles.

—"I thought you said we've seen each other often lately, and I always say yes."—

—"I know, just makin' sure."—

He presses the button and the device instantly starts the recording judging by the tiny red dot lighting up.

Before making any questions though, the dark haired man extends his hand towards (Y/N), a silent offer he always made during their meetings. He was totally aware it was not professional to hold hands, but how could he not offer some support to them? Especially after the amount of stress he had put them through. He... Ghostface.

(Y/N) takes his hand without a second thought, a little smile appearing on their lips when they felt the man squeezing their palm. They still couldn't get over how warm Jed's hands and body is, he's almost like a human heater! Which kinda made them jealous of whoever his partner is, oh to have someone this warm to cuddle during cold nights.

—"Okay so... Tell me, what do you remember?"—

Jed's eyes were focused on theirs, his gaze, though at times unnerving, was mainly charming and never failed to make (Y/N) stumble over their words for a brief second.

—"Okay, so..."—

. . .

—"For fuck's sake..."—

(Y/N) muttered weakly, their body sluggishly rotating to one side of their bed, limbs partially dangling off the edge as if that would somehow make their existence any less miserable.

They're not sure why, but lately their health has been declining a bit too fast. That seemingly permanent fatigue clung to them like rust to old metal, refusing to release them from it's chokehold regardless of their attempts to battle it.

Sleeping more, drinking coffee, energy drinks... Ugh, absolutely nothing worked. This exhaustion had it's claws sunk deep into their weary muscles, weighting them down lower and lower with each breath they took...

Their eyes shifted to their phone at their desk, forgotten at the very other side of their room. Should they see a doctor? Call a friend to pick them up and take them to the hospital? The idea of a medical bill was already hurting their wallet, but at the same time, they're starting to think if it could be an organ failure behind their sudden health drop.

—"Mhhg... Fuck it..."—

(Y/N) muttered through gritted teeth and made the effort to stand up, their muscles protesting, feeling a whole ton heavier than they should. Their movements were sluggish, clumsy, and as they slowly raised from the bed into a sitting position, the whole room felt like it was spinning.

They swallowed, and swung their legs off the mattress, raising to their feet, knees shaking like the bone inside their legs had turned into literal jelly.

—"Come on..."—

(Y/N) muttered again, voice a bit more breathy from the increasing concern as they made their first step, then another, then one more... Slow steps towards their phone, yet it didn't feel like the desk was getting any closer, but what they did feel is like their body was literally breaking down from it's own weight.

—"Ah-"—

They gasped as their knees gave in suddenly, the tip of their fingers brushing against the edge of the desk before their body hit the ground with a thud, teeth clicking as their chin impacted the cool surface, and oxygen escaping at unceremoniously flopping on their stomach. They felt as if their body was... Decaying from the inside out, their strength, their awareness... Is like these things are fading.

—"The effect is acting faster than I had expected."—

(Y/N)'s body froze, skin suddenly covered in cold sweat. That... That voice.

—"Suppose I did overdo it with the dose... Oh, how careless of me."—

The voice spoke with fake disappointment, yet still carrying a light, almost shaky edge to it. Even with the mask, that stupid, cursed mask that (Y/N) came to hate so much, which muffled his speech ever so slightly, the breathy excitement his tone carried was undeniable.

They barely managed to raise their head enough to turn it to be able to look back. Their throat was burning, they felt like they were about to throw up from the way their gut twisted the moment their weary eyes landed on that figure, again.

Ghostface. Standing at the entrance of their room, arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe like he was merely passing by.

The masked man tsked, shaking his head lightly.

—"Oww... You really be giving me the stink eye, bunny? You're almost looking at me like I did something wrong."—

Ghostface spoke with feign hurt, placing one gloved hand over the cheek of his mask, tilting his head to the side as he observed his obsession on the floor, all weakened and defenseless.

—"No... No. What- What did...-"— you paused, genuinely feeling like you were about to throw up from how dizzy you began to feel. —"What did you... D-Do to me?..."—

Ghostface merely hummed, and (Y/N) could've sworn they felt him smirk. That insufferable fuck...

—"Hmm... Nothing I hadn't done previously, mouse."— he stated with a small shrug, finally uncrossing his arms as he casually stood straight and entered the room. —"Same old. Putting some of that sleeping medicine into your food when you weren't around. Although must admit, I overdid a little today."—

The killer stopped beside (Y/N), staring down at their struggling form, still attempting to get onto their knees, yet their limbs had the same cooperativeness level as the tentacles of an exhausted octopus.

—"You just look so sweet after taking them, you know? Out cold. I can pretty much do whatever, and you won't even quirk a muscle."—

(Y/N) froze again, their body flopping onto the cool floor, yet they had barely register the impact this time.

—"I have never been good at holding back my urges."— he continued, lowering himself down until he was squatting, elbows resting on his knees. —"So I couldn't help myself but to want to mess around with you some more."—

His words kept adding to that discomfort within them, the realizations... That this... This sick fuck, has been doing god knows what around their unconscious body almost every night... God-...

—"It felt nice. To be able to touch you however I wanted. See whatever I wanted... Even drag the tip of my knife around your skin. Sure, it wasn't that fun since I do like when you wince and give me those scared, teary glances and make these noises, but..."—

He kept talking, head slowly tilting to the side. His voice was so calm, so... Even, like he was talking about a color preference.

—"...Knowing I could've end you any moment... Draw blood from you if I press a little harder... Ah, now that's the high I also can't get enough of."—

The man paused, as if finally breaking free from the haze and registering the horrified look (Y/N) had on their face, which caused him to chuckle, feeling a certain twisted pleasure at the disturbed expression his favorite object of obsession was making. He didn't bother to clarify or voice the specifics, leaving them in the dark was just so much more fun!

Instead of speaking, he suddenly reached a gloved hand out to them, brushing his fingers through their hair, the (h/c) locks a bit humid from the sweat, but it didn't deter the killer from messing with them.

—"Look at you, don't even have the strength in you to flinch..."—

He cooed, as if speaking to a pet that just woke up all loopy from anesthesia. The tip of his fingers kept racking through (Y/N)'s hair, touch almost tender.

—"I guess you only have a few minutes left before you're out cold..."—

He spoke again, fingers continuing to mess with the strands before suddenly going still, as if the killer was contemplating something.

Then, with an almost smug "hmph", Ghostface got up from his previously crouched position, and something in the air shifted, the whole atmosphere got suddenly... Charged, as if humming with anticipation.

—"You know bunny, I think it's time... We know each other well enough at this point, right?"—

The killer drawled, which in response earned a puzzled look from (Y/N)'s slightly dazed eyes. It wasn't the first time Ghostface spoke in a cryptic, half-hearted manner, but somehow, this felt different from his usual wits.

—"...What?..."—

He didn't answer, simply humming before beginning to move, walking around their room with confidence, like he knew every corner of it by heart.

—"You'll see."—

He simply replied, opening one of the drawers, taking a few seconds to rummage in it to then pull out...

Tape.

—"Though I would've preferred duct tape, you kept procrastinating to buy a new roll. But this one is fine too, you don't have enough strengths in you left anyways."—

Ghostface mused with a nonchalant shrug, as if voicing a minor inconvenience instead of a binding method.

The man hummed a random tune under his breath as he walked back up to (Y/N), still laying on the floor uselessly, their muscles far too numb to work properly even as their heartbeat grew louder.

He didn't even bother to stand and watch them attempt to get up or crawl away, and simply opted to get to the deed and went down on one knee.

The quiet "shrrrr" of tape getting detached sent a chill through (Y/N)'s bones, but they got little to no time to even think about resisting before they felt their limp arms getting grabbed by their wrists and moved behind their back, sticky tape clinging to their skin oppressively as thin layers were added around one after another.

—"You know, I'm quite excited right now, bunny."—

The killer commented with a note of excitement behind the ghost mask as his hands worked skillfully on the task of restraining them, a task so practiced that it became muscle memory at that point in his life.

—"This is a pretty big step for us. I will kinda miss stalking you from afar though."—

The added and then moved towards their legs, ignoring the weak kicks (Y/N) tried to throw his way, which due to the drugs flowing through their system left their movements more uncoordinated and weak, making them resemble a baby deer trying to stand up from the first time instead of a potential victim of abduction attempting to resist.

One leg got caught mid-kick, and then brought down with another, with Ghostface moving in a smooth motion so position himself in a way he ended up straddling (Y/N)'s legs, keeping them still to tape them together as well.

They didn't even feel the hot tears flowing down their cheeks like rivers in flood until a chocked sniffle escaped their lips, as just then the realization that they were about to get abducted became so real it struck their mind like a sledgehammer, their body squirming weakly as panic rose.

—"P-Please... Don't-"—

They breathed out in a weak voice, trying to push the straddling figure off them, but their movements weren't even strong enough to move the man even an inch.

—"I don't wanna die..."—

Ghostface didn't even react to their quiet pleas, at least not right away. He kept humming the random tunes all until he finished taping their legs together, letting a satisfied exhale as he ran his gloved fingers through the sticky bindings to check.

—"Die?"— he repeated, voice almost amused by the word. —"Oh, come on duckling."—

The said with a quiet chuckle, turning around just enough to glance at (Y/N) over his shoulder, and the way the white mask peeked from behind the hood was on it's own chilling.

—"I've rambled to you enough about my preferences. If I wanted to end you I wouldn't bother taking you anywhere."—

He answered, raising his free hand to wave it dismissively.

—"And if I did, that would make all the blood, guts and grime my problem to clean after. Yuck."—

He added, and after that stood up, tossing the roll of tape onto the desk (Y/N) was so desperate to reach at the beginning. The phone's screen briefly illuminating when a message appeared, but of course, no one would answer to it anytime soon... Or ever.

—"I won't pretend like I know what I'm doing right now either, so this is going to be an adverture for the two of us. Exciting, right?"—

The masked man spoke, his voice as teasing as it was a bit giddy, but how could he not be giddy? He finally gets to take his greatest obsession with himself!

He didn't move right away to pick them up though, just stood there, looming over their tied down form, watching. These loose strands of fabric that flowed behind him giving the figure an almost ghastly look in the darkness of the room.

Everything went quiet for a few minutes, with Ghostface simply breathing behind his mask unevenly, unable to fully hide just how ecstatic and worked up he was getting, and (Y/N) gasps, as if their lungs were beginning to stutter from the sheer weight of the killer's gaze.

—"So fucking perfect..."—

He muttered, tone quieter, softer even... His hand then moved into his suit, slipping inside to fetch his trusty camera, raising it up to his face and angling it right to...

Click

Click, click

Pictures were being napped, a couple of them. Some of (Y/N)'s whole body, others a special closeup to their face, so beautiful, flushed with tears cheeks, paled skin from dread, trembling lips...

Ghostface paused after the last picture of their face, tilting his head to the side slowly.

—"Ah, my bad."—

He said, suddenly stepping back towards the desk and snatching the tape again, the camera temporally placed down on the wooden surface as the killer kneeled down one more time.

—"That pretty little mouth..."— he said, already peeling a line of the tape.

A chocked sound escaped (Y/N), an attempt to scream for help or do literally anything to resist in their current state. But just as their lips parted, they were pressed against the cool surface of the mask.

The sound came chocked and weird, the scream overshadowed by surprise and slight pain from how sudden the clash was. What even was that? A kiss attempt? A new wat to shut them up? They don't get to think about it too much, because soon after the familiar stickiness of the tape came crashing down their mouth, while a part of fingers held their jaw tightly in place.

The man tsked, but didn't sound genuinely upset, more like an owner scolding a misbehaving kitten.

—"You'll get to scream all night long later, bunny. Now it's not the time."—

Ghostface hushed, rubbing his thumb against the taped lips a few times, letting another satisfied hum in the process as his hand lingered on their face for a few seconds longer, before he finally let go and got up to his feet.

By that time, (Y/N) was truly helpless. Not only where they tied, but whatever sleeping medicine the killer had put in their food was also getting worse. The adrenaline that kept them lucid was starting to wear off, headache and nausea worsening too, making the world around them spin.

—"Mmh... Hm..."—

Weak whimpers, muffled by the tape and tears, that's all they could muster.

The roll of tape was discarded again on the desk, and after snatching the trusty camera back, the killer briefly walked up towards the window, asserting, and then letting a satisfied huff when the street outside the apartment building remained empty.

The neighborhood (Y/N) lived wasn't a total disaster, but also not top luxury, just modest streets where little to no action happened. Safe from strays fighting in the back alleys or drunk teenagers taking a shortcut to get to the main road every blue moon. Safe to say, little probabilities of being spotted by a witness.

—"Yup. We're good to go."— he muttered under his breath, turning towards you again.

The next sequence turned to be a blur for (Y/N), their brain felt like it was melting onto itself, barely managing to process what was going on properly. They could feel hands, cool leather of the gloves against their sweaty skin, following by the world tilting as they went up and upside down, a pressure against their lower belly and slow swaying side to side.

It was like their brain was starting to lag, showing poorly processed frames of what was happening, and even then most of it was just a blur of dark colors.

Ghostface kept muttering things, like he always did, like they cared to hear what he had to say... But it was like listening to the surface while being underwater, everything felt too muffled, too distant.

Then came the coolness, the crisp of the outside air, and then a sudden discomfort of being tucked in a tight, dark place, the back of a car trunk? It felt so cold, so cramped that it was suffocating...

They could swear they saw blue lights for a moment... Or was it a hallucination? A trick of light? False hope? Where these poli-

Thump

Dark.

. . .

The interrogation room fell silent, with Jed sitting in silence, his expression serious but not unkind as he watched (Y/N) talk, who was now squeezing his hand like a lifeline, the close call of going missing forever having clearly disturbed them.

—"I... I'm sorry I-"— you sniffled, just now realizing you began to tear again, not outright crying, but it's like your eyes couldn't resist the urge to cry at the reminiscent terror. —"I'm just... So grateful the police came before he..."—

—"Yes (Y/N). It is indeed a miracle that the police actually listened to your downstairs neighbor's complains about the noise."—

Jed commented gently, voice even and warm, trying to soothe the disturbed victim as his free hand let go of the pen he was writing down the key observations to reach towards their face and wipe their tears.

—"I'm so sorry for what you had to go through. As the main journalist and investigator of Ghostface, I wholeheartedly apologize for failing to protect you."—

(Y/N) snapped out of their fright at the apology, and quickly shook their head.

—"N-No! No Jed, don't apologize. You said it yourself, this level of obsession it's not normal for him! I-"— you try to defend him, but he instead cupped your cheek.

—"No, (Y/N). I mean it. I know I'm no police officer, but I still hold the knowledge on that criminal, and I failed to do my job properly that nearly costed you your safety."—

He replied, firmer but without loosing the warmth, dark narrowing in quiet resolve. His thumb worked on whipping their tears, it wasn't professional, but none of the two currently cared about professionalism right now.

(Y/N) went quiet, just sitting still and soaking in the small show of comfort. Usually they weren't this desperate for human touch, but right now? It felt as vital as oxygen, to feel the contact of the one person who made them feel seen and understood in this stalker-killer nightmare.

—"Should I move away again Jed?... I cannot afford to keep moving around like this anymore. It doesn't even help for that long!..."—you look at him, desperate for any advise of what to do to stay safe.

The man hummed, dark eyes moving away from their face and settling on the recorder, the red button still glowing.

—"I can give you a few options."— he said, slowly pulling the hand away from your face to reach and turn off the recorder, keeping the next conversation private. —"If you really want, I have a spare room, let you in for a couple of weeks to save up and look for another place at a safer neighborhood, for example."—

(Y/N) went silent, eyes widening at the unexpected offer. Their grip on Jed's hand faltered for a brief moment, clear signs of hesitation.

On one hand, Jed wasn't like... A friend of theirs, sure, they saw each regularly with each new Ghostface case (Y/N) finds themselves unwillingly participating, and they haven't really known him outside his job as a journalist...

But on the other, they were desperate, and too freaked out to stay alone. Their friends? Understandably refused to let them couch-surf, especially because those who did ended up hospitalized by said killer.

They looked down at their connected hands, Jed's still holding onto theirs, not tightly or obsessively like the criminal that tormented them, just securely enough for them to feel held, while still giving the option to pull away anytime.

Having no options left, and still too shaken up to think and come up with anything new, they raised their gaze up and nodded weakly.

—"Two weeks, it's all I need."—

Jed's expression softened, dark eyes almost glinting, or maybe it's (Y/N)'s tears making them see things that aren't really there.

—"I'll go with you to your place so you can grab all the essentials after work, okay?"— he offered selflessly, squeezing your hand again for comfort and reassurance.

This man was always so gentle when needed, so understanding and comforting... Now (Y/N) felt a bit stupid that hesitation was their first feeling on the matter. Jed Olsen is working along with authorities, of course they're going to be okay!... Right?

Their mini train of thoughts was interrupted when said man chuckled, and then stood up from his side of the table, slowly as if not to spook them.

—"Aish, come here. You really look like you need a hug right now."— he said with a small, lopsided smile, playful but not unkind.

(Y/N) blinked, but found themselves chuckling under their breath and standing up, appreciating the small gesture in this delicate moment.

Warmth enveloped them when Jed wrapped his arms around their form, pulling them close but not too tight, just enough for them to feel safe, if just for a breath. And they did, they really did feel safer, and the warmth this man radiated with, combined with the smell of his cologne was all (Y/N) wanted to focus on right now and leave the lived terrors in the backseat of their mind.

And while they were basking in this given comfort, resting their forehead against the journalist's shoulder... They failed to see the satisfied smirk that stretched on his face.

If there is something Ghostface was good at, is getting away with things, one way or another. His object of obsession may've slipped out of his grasp before, but it's okay... He can always use his other persona to get them.

His arms tightened briefly, before he caught himself to avoid squeezing too tight. He couldn't afford to let his excitement out just yet, not when (Y/N) was so scared from his previous attempt to take them... Tsk, fucking Mrs. Stones, the old hag just had to complain on the noise that night, huh?

He quickly wiped the dark glint of frustration from his eyes before he pulled back, masterfully changing his expression back to his good ol' Jed Olsen persona.

—"Alright. Give me a second to wrap this up and hand the recording to the police, type down the basics of today's case in a draft and we'll head to your apartment to pack some essentials, sounds good?"—

(Y/N) nodded slowly, hands pulling back so they could wipe their eyes from the tears, smiling weakly.

—"Thank you so much Jed... Really, thank you."—

The man simply smiled, hands moving to their shoulders to squeeze them lightly.

—"You're welcome (Y/N)."— he answered with a gentle nod, and then slowly retired his hands and took a step back. —"Wait for me at the lobby, I'll catch you in twenty-something minutes."—

They nodded, glancing back at the desk of the interrogation room, as if wondering (hoping) if this is going to be the last time they see it, before finally moving towards the door.

The door opened and closed with a soft click, leaving Jed standing there alone, his expression still easy, then slowly growing satisfied.

He hummed, leaning casually against the desk and raising one hand towards the pocket he kept his wallet in, and then opened it to glance at the section where the most recent picture of his darling was.

Tied, on the floor.

His smile grew, eyes narrowed and dark irises sparkling with sick pleasure.

—"A close call indeed, (Y/N)."—

A pause. Thumb slowly running along the smooth print where their face was.

She can turn real things/objects she paints.

Uses her own blood as paint.

The damaged side of her face never heals, keeps it covered with hair but may show it for intimidation.

Was a human before stumbling into ghost apartments, holds absolutely no memories of her past life.

Even as a ghost, she's not really tall (Around 170 cm / 5'7).

A very friendly resident, often allows other ghosts/humans to rest or hide in her "studio" (aka whatever room she liked enough to stay and paint)

Non confrontational and a bit of a crybaby, but god forbit you try to ruin her paintings-