#ghostviso

‟   ───   huh ?      no,      i   didn't   hear   nuffin'...   ”         though   the   unease   in   his   voice   certainly   says   otherwise.      stu's   been   on   edge   ever   since   nightfall,      jumping   at   any   crack   or   rustling   in   the   woods   behind   them   even   despite   the   roaring   fire   they've   built.      maybe   ONE   TOO   MANY   HORROR   MOVIES   have   put   an   unrealistic   notion   in   his   mind,      or   maybe   he's   being   rightly   cautious.      either   way,      he   knows   one   thing   for   certain      ───      he   ought   to   get   it   together   before   the   campers   arrive   to   see   him   so   spooked   and   give   him   a   hard   time   for   the   entirety   of   the   summer.      he   turns   back   to   his   co-counselor,   frowning.         ‟   c'mon,      mate,      don't   screw   around   wiv'   me.      you   didn't   really   hear   anyf'ing,      did   you ?   ”

↳  this  could  honestly  apply  to  ANY  of  my  incredible  mutuals  ♥   but  to  name  some  -  @wightwulf  ,  @excruciate  ,  @gunsway  ,  @greghirs  ,  @ghostviso (  yes  ,  you !  )  ,  @quismet  ,  @ineij  ,  @jennifercheck  ,  @winifrd  ,  @atrohphy .

frank morrison re-listens to the message recorded on clive’s answering machine for the last time, deletes it, and then without a minute's hesitation more, he does exactly as he’d been instructed. he's only praying to god that he isn’t about to get entrapped by some shitty cop working way above his paygrade; each time he thumbs the number keys & the dial tone plays in a monotonous hum, his nose gives an edgy twitch. ring-ring. ring-ring. ring-ri– ... click! frank swallows thickly. he really needs a fucking cigarette.  "... 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳  GODDAMN  𝘯𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳."

     YOU WEREN’T BORN IN DARKNESS  ,  BUT DARKNESS YOU BECAME  .  life had been unkind to her  ,  from one day to another  ,  the girl had lost everything  .  but she had learned to live with it  ,  EMBRACE THE DARKNESS THAT SHROUDED HER VERY BEING  ,  and become the ghost story her people had heard of at night  .  but them  –––  they were an entirely different tale  .   ❛❛   are you real  ?  or am i dying  ––  ?   ❜❜

𝚑𝚊𝚠𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚜'  𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑  𝚒𝚜  𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚢.  hallway  lights  are  dimmed,  the  echo  of  any  remaining  students  have  gone  quiet.  chrissy  is  the  last,  keys  to  locker  room  gripped  tight,  closing  door  behind  her.  the  gym  is  too  big,  and  she  is  too  small.   ❝  I’m  left  in  the  dark.  ❞  she's  talking  aloud  ,  trying  to  make  herself  feel  safe. it’s  what  she  had  always  done ,  when  she  was  smaller , tucked  into  bed,  with  comfort  of  teddy  bed  at  her  side. despite  the  silence,  she  does  not  feel  alone.  white  sneakers  meet  polished  floors  in  a  hurried  pace.  there’s  a  part  of  her,  that  whispers  in  her  mother’s  voice,  cold  and  cruel.    it  tells  her,  she’s  overreacting,  that  she’s  a  fool.    she  ducks  through  heavy  wooden  doors,  afraid  to  spare  passing  glance  behind  her. there  is  sudden  regret,  in  lying  to  jason  (she’s  okay,  she’s  fine  she  reassures).  though,  he  seemed  just  as  relieved,  to  be  able  to  go,  to  celebrate  win  with  friends.  she  doesn’t  tell  him  the  truth,  just  like  everyone  else.  she’s  alone  in  the  world  she’s  created,  and  it’s  all  her  fault.  She’s  staying  focused,  counting  her  steps,  hurried  towards  the  front  doors.    

DESPERATE TIMES MAN

❝     i'm         𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒚𝒛𝒆𝒅         with         fear.                   i've         been         ʰᵉʳᵉ         since          second          period          &          ⁱ         𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘          need         to         pee.    ❞      ghostviso     ᶠᵉᵃᵗ     LIAM SAMUELS.

a sound other than the rumble of cars and the flash of headlights from the occasional passerby on the street beside her has feet stuttering to a halt. rachel looks around, arms clasped before her in the hopes of warding off the cold. nothing. she keeps walking, and walking - - - arcadia bay melting into scattered buildings and then naught more than woods on the one side and the street on the other. another sound. fucking paranoid. still, rachel stops again and jams a hand into her purse. when she pulls it out she has a pack of cigarettes and a lighter and she proceeds to light one - - - and then look around again. the prickle of eyes on her neck. the feeling that she DID hear something. rachel blows out a breath of nicotine-scented smoke and squints into the woods beside her. “uh - hello?”