#in the future...

JEFF THE KILLER —

total dick (as if we don't all collectively agree with this)

tell him to do one thing, he does the opposite typa guy

either it's out of spite or there's that voice in his head that just won't follow instructions out of selfishness

an inferiority complex that's so bad it loops back to being a superiority complex

as one of the creeps that comes in and out of the mansion, he doesn't really have a place to go to

he disappears for weeks or is holed up in his room at the mansion

he's more prone to disappearing though

which either has his room looking like a sterile hospital room (from how untouched it is) to being a garbage dump a Day with him being back

despite being a relatively unhygenic guy, he does take out the trash el oh el

only when it gets really bad though .

and it has to be when he's about to dip for god knows how long

then again if anyone mentions the rancid stench coming from his room he's almost proud and amused by it

"oh yeah? This ain't even the worst of it."

boy that was not a challenge

his personality consists of either being irritated, aggressive, or being playful in the hurtful way

isn't afraid to dig deep and make fun of you using something that he has no business bringing up what-so-ever

to a point where it's like 🤨

"adopted?" he stares "i can see why. If you look like this shitty i can't imagine what you looked like then."

like okay queen out I Guess

also when he's gone and off the face of the earth he's either drinking, popping whatever pill he finds in the alley (and if he's particulalry self loathing that day, needles aren't off the table either), or cross faded

it's either that or hunting for sport

he wouldn't ever go out hunting while intoxicated (maybe a Bit intoxicated but never fully) because it ruins the high of the kill for him

takes pride in what he does

so he takes a surprising amount of time on a victim, ranging from tormenting them to after he has killed them already

says there's an "art" to it

"just like what the egyptians did to the mummies."

as he's jutting his knife into the body's flesh, hand tensing whenever the blade would get jammed against a tendon or thick muscle

whatever you say bro

but on a lighter note, on a very rare occassion he will willingly sit somewhere in the manor, crack a cold one, and slowly drink

just by himself 

it's even rarer that someone joins him but it Has happened

which then never lasts long because at some point Jeff gives them his trash and leaves 

also the most normal thing about this guy is that his attitude is super similar to a frat bro's like, from the way he speaks (in grunts, or he's shouting no in between) to how he carries himself (full of arrogance and with a insecure inscentive to present as masculine as he can) it screams frat bro

unfortunately he is a 27 year old man

with greasy grimey matted hair

and somehow still gets huzz… sometimes

he either magically scores or he gets nothing and wakes up the next day frustrated and angry

freak btw if that wasn't just assumed of him

oh and he's wasian 

the one positive trait he has is that he's wasian (jokes)

he's wasian specficially Chinese/American with an American mom from like California and a Chinese guy from Beijing

he's tall too like ? almost 6 ft sorry im too petty to give it to him

he's stupid

EYELESS JACK —

looove the animalistic take people have on him sometimes

this man has claws, shark teeth, and mayhaps a tail 🤔

his hair bristle

like it doesn't matter if he has short hair atop his head, he just does that

it's just he usually has his hood on his head so people don't see it anyways

anyways he does have his own place

HOWEVER he is still in the mansion a lot to act as medic

so he might as well live… there..

he refuses to though

he'd rather live in his shabby shack than to live in a place where he has to see the others more than he has to

he's rather chill with most of the proxies, but anyone else might be a no 

if the creep's on the quieter sense he's very much more willing to tolerate them

don't let that distract you from the fact that he can be a bit of a pretentious asshole

sure he is right a lot of the times, but when that part of him slips out everyone just wants to punch this guy in the face

i'd like to think he was almost done his masters when he got sacrificed by the cult

which makes him even more bitter

because of that, he'd also probably be more wary of spaces / people that are openly religious

not when he sees someone wearing a cross he'd be like "oh that's a cross" but like someone who's just a bit more openly spiritual 

not going to necessarily discriminate but he's not going to ass willingly interact with you with full interest you know

if anything, he'd be perfectly content not interacting at all

tad more civil than everyone else in the mansion

quiet (sort of) just because it's a "if I don't have anything to say, I won't say anything."

and no one can tell but he's side eyeing some people

he can be quite chatty if he permits it

it's just he's sort of ? stiff? with social interactions

kind of apathetic to a lot of stuff, he tries not to get attached to anything

but then again, that's most of the creeps

PURRS !!!!!!!!!!!

nobody can take that hc away from me or from ANYONE

and as always, he would rather kill someone than hear it be commented on

will stare at someone in complete silence when he's mildly angry

the noises start coming out when he's proper pissed

baring his teeth, growling, displeased clicks of the tongue(s)

large Guy,, like 6'4 maybe

doesn't necessarily hate being seen as a monster but definitely doesn't Like it

it sometimes gets him out of situations

but a lot of the time he's envying the life he could have had

he never admits it but he spends a lot of time thinking about it

but it never ends up feeling too real — never feels like something that was achievable at all because he can't even remember what his life was like before

all he has are make beliefs

i'm choosing to say he has Never liked "make belief" and all that sort of stuff

that's why he's a math and science guy

miss him with that humanities bullshit (i'm personally a poli sci major)

i like the idea of him being a first generation immigrant because it makes his story sadder to me

i see him being… maybe balkan tbh

greek Jack Nyras do we fw that

also his hygeine situation is aight 👍

he cleans up after himself well, it's just sometimes his living spaces get messy

messy in a way where he understands where everything is but someone else might not

very scribbly handwriting… doc handwriting as expected

despite his more feral moments, he generally is actually put together for the most part

stays in his lane, doesn't go searching for trouble (usually… )

very mundane creep. As mundane as one could be

BEN DROWNED —

kenzi monkey where the monkey is capable of playing minecraft (rest in heaven kenzi)

ironically i was high when i wrote that first sentence sorry guys, it's now been hours since then and i'm more clear as to what i meant

BEN'S MY FAVOURITE !!!!!! SORRY NOT SORRY IM GOING TO ADMIT IT FIRST AND FOREMOST

im genuinely the most excited about writing for him as of now

okay so white boy s

not really swag

but he's got white boy something

referring back to the first point, he is quite literally the Internet so he knows every. Single. niche, trend, or meme that happens 

sometimes maybe not the full depth of a topic but he's at the very least Heard of it

"labubu… labubu…" heard across various devices in the manor and then an annoying snicker right after that cuts off in the middle

pulls shit in the manor ALL the time like fuck please shut up

also stays in his room 26/7 !!! LOSER !!!!!!!!

and it's so bad in there

it's worse than Jeff's

cans littered on the floor, chip bags, instant noodle cups stacked on each other on his desk, clothes strewn around (that he doesn't even wear, mind you.)

like those clothes aren't even dirty

they're just there

respects the Slenderman's authority where he won't bother Him so much that it ends up with real consequences

but also not enough to be all that useful — like he's not really at beck and call

only really does things when he has to, otherwise he's never touching shit

sits all day staring at his monitors, all different brands as "beggars can't be choosers" (he steals them, or gets Jeff to steal them)

if not Jeff, maybe he can get Toby to do it

not really, Toby kind of annoys him

Ben's in general indifferent to a lot of the creeps

he mostly gets along with like the "video game" creeps AND Jeff

they like being mischevious pieces of shits so they tag team sometimes

also Ben laughs like a hyena

it's very high pitched, screechy, sometimes staticy like you can hear the grain in his voice

throws his head back, hand slapping or grabbing onto whatever's nearest to him, belly laugh, falling out of his chair, "HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH HMYGOBHHAHAHAH" like okay buddy he made a 67 joke

speaking of, yes, he thinks brainrot is funny but also he's very selective about it

HATES IT once it gets too mainstream

"It's not even that FUNNY!" "last week you were Just laughing about your stupid chingus life or whatever."

my favourite guy ever but he Is going to be capped at 5'6 sorry

part of me likes to think he can ? "shift"? but imagine the way a glitch alters and stretches things

Ben can sort of control this, as long as he's stable, but other than that they happen and disappear within the blink of an eye

the most this glitch can alter is his size, and maybe his colours (like mf can probably be grey scale if he really tried to)

when he does leave the manor, he travels exclusively through electricity and devices

he has to be in a device as it provides him a sorts of Plan B just in case things go south and he needs an escape route

also just likes being in cyber space

the constant glitches he experiences outside of said space calms down a lot in this digital world, and he feels like the weight on his chest just disappears

the only bad thing about cyberspace is that staying too long could be bad for him

and if the device he's in were to lose battery, not connected to ANYTHING else (wifi, service) he could be erased

just gone

having the device wiped could possibly do that to him as well

but thankfully we're in a day and age where everyone is Always connected to the internet so that's less of a fear for him ^^

still stalks online forums

like the ones people used to visit in the early days of the internet

he will go on them and revive years old conversations by either rage baiting them or actually providing some good insight

the latter is rare

loves 4Chan, lives on Reddit, diving into every crevice of the internet to get his grubby hands on what could be his next thing to fixate on

it's also where he finds his next victims ! Yay !

he loves, loves, loves targetting people who are low lives

like people who are just as chronically online as him, no life

that discord mod that suddenly up and disappeared? oh boy hope he isn't tied up in wires so tight the damn things cut into his body

or having been electrocuted to the point where one can see how the guy's hair has charred and burned

or how his eye popped out of its socket 

would definitely make a call on the guy's account to have some poor unsuspecting soul watch all of this unfold

best part of it all — Ben doesn't have to care that there was technically a witness

who's going to believe this One person, huh?

someone who's probably going to lose their mind from the sight they just witnessed

thus, Ben is also not a very physical killer "i'll strangle someone with my bare hands" kind of person unless it really calls for it

so his main thing is psychological torture

or just torture in general

genuinely i can rant and rave about him so much

but… i unfortunately also believe in stoner ben who gets his rocks off being high like 12/7 … he takes breaks !

and he really wouldn't mind being baked when killing someone too

it's just honestly more sad for the victim than anything

also not a big fan of religion

much more immature about it though, and will make fun / actively insult it

and target cultists

and like Jeff, major freak

but more freak in theory than practice because he doesn't really have game

he'll try his damndest to flirt but once reciprocated he's a bumbling fool

still tries to act like he knows what he's doing though

when he's not high he's kind of an emotional guy? like he gets riled up really easily

but still he's the top tier ragebaiter, sometimes without even trying

so while he's indifferent to the creeps, the creeps just almost immediately get annoyed by his presence 💔

he deserves it tho lowkey

and i will say this again, white as all hell

both in skin and in culture

give that white boy some buldak carbonara and you'll watch slowly as it turns redder from how more blood-tears seem to fall from his eyes and into the damn food

MASKY —

🤤

dad bod, off the rip, tearing off the bandaid

looks kind of soft (as in, not necessarily covered in defined muscles) but he is a tank

ask him to flex his arms and you can just see the power in those biceps bro idk what to tell you

southern twangs for both him and Brian

his voice is gruffer but not necessarily deeper than Brian's

also blud is like 5'9

after being more involved with the Slenderman, his state has remained stagnant 

sort of limbo

his memory is no longer actively deteriorating, but the damage done prior has left it's mark

so he still has a hard time remembering sometimes

he still gets those coughing fits when he's Tim, sometimes when he's Masky but not quite as much

speaking of, Masky is much more of a jerk than Tim

he likes to think he's the rage baiter, when in actuality it's the opposite

and more often than not, the team will have to calm him down

it's been long enough that they've figured out a system for that (mostly Hoodie being the one that deals with his aggression)

but there's been times where it has almost jepoardized a mission

Masky is also more chatty ? But that's just to taunt when he's in a certain mood

if not, he expects everyone to just efficiently do their task

the mentality of "i can fuck around, but you can't" 

mostly directed towards Toby because he's the younger of the three of them

very rarely is his anger directed towards Hoodie but there have been instances

and he also knows sign language for Hoodie :)

Tim is usually a little less irritable

or at the very least, doesn't lash out like Masky

he sticks to himself mostly, especially when in the manor

he shares a room with Brian, despite not really needing to as there's more than enough space

but the fact that Brian is there calms him down just a tad

still paranoid but not quite sure of what

like he's already in this nightmare

what else can reach him?

maybe that freaky ghost dude

often goes on late night drives

either alone or with Brian

usually alone as Brian is up to something else

despite them being anchors for one another they also need to figure out a balance

another way he copes is, obviously, smoking a pack a day

the smoker's voice is there but not overpowering, if that makes sense

maybe those coughing fits are just phlegm from chainsmoking

Tim by himself is actually just… a normal mf guy

he used to frequent music festivals, maybe even had dreams of something involving music

very unique voice that matches the music he likes playing (country, blues, etc.)

doesn't really like singing in front of people though

he knows he's not the best singer around and gets embarassed

clean guy !!!

cleans up after himself !!!

nags Brian to do the same… especially since they share the damn space

"it'll find it's way."

"… yeah up your ass if you don't pick up that damn sock."

Tim doesn't like thnking about what he does on missions

doesn't want to try to remember if he can recall the person's face just as he's about to shoot a bullet through their skull

he tries not to

but also he's realized, that some sick part of him as grown used to it

and feels a sense of relief when he gets the deed done, like the satisfaction one gets after leaving a rage room

he supposes that he can't be too sad about that though

apathy is the one thing keeping him sane, really

HOODIE —

close to a second favourite for me heh 😼

lither body, more defined muscles throughout

maybe like? 6'1 ?

he's more of like the all-rounder of the group

but Hoodie doesn't talk very much, and prefers to communicate with others through hand gestures or sign language

only person he uses his voice with is Masky and maybe Toby

voice is deeper but smoother than Tim's

sometimes joins him for a smoking sesh but not much…

Hoodie is very stoic and just get to the point and finish the job

sort of

he has a playful side of him that comes out Only when he deems things "interesting"

if it's a boring mission and the person is giving the usual responses, he won't hesitate to just cave their skull in as quickly as possible

if thing's turn out to be a little more unexpected, he's having some fun !!!

Hoodie in general doesn't do much though

out of all the proxies, as long as the person doesn't catch his eye, won't really care for them 

for long missions, he loves to do the stalking

Brian sort of finds fun in this too

the manipulation and charms are all Brian

from his tooth gap to the boyish cut he has (while still looking very much like a Man y'know) and the way he talks? it's joever bro

Brian finds the chase fun

Tim wishes he could get the job done faster and without any bumps in the road

some people headcanon Brian as a sociopath and I really like the idea

he doesn't understand the full scope of human emotions, especially empathizing with people, but he can grow attached

there has been a couple times that has happened on a mission

and it just resulted in Brian doing some extra work where he actively went out of his way to creep out their victim by leaving little clues and traces behind for them to find

but he somehow always knows what's the limit before he ruins the plans

Brian's strongest bond is probably Tim, and it's reciprocated

he tries to accomodate for Tim, who still struggles with the effects of the Sickness 

but as well as the other stresses that came from it

Brian also struggles with similar symptoms but he's a bit more detached than Tim was / is

he sometimes watches the nights for Tim

one sleeps and the other watches, on request of the other

did i say he was charming yet

yeah he's a real charmer 100%

the sweetest compliments, the kindest smile, and always (seemingly) actively listening

getting people to drop their guard around him really isn't all that hard

he gets around more than Tim, definitely

also their permanent residence is in the manor, as proxies, but they aren't often in the manor to begin with

being on missions calls for being in motels, or just a rented RV

between Tim and Brian, Brian is definitely the one to plan things out more

think before acting, as that's how he gets his results

nonetheless, he allows Tim to execute them

being a leader sounds like too much work for Brian

does purposefully leave shit around the room sometimes to piss Tim off :p

Virgil woke up, massaging his forehead and eyes. There was a lot of light in there. He looked at the white above him, noting that that was definitely not the Tracy Island glass ceiling. He couldn’t even hear the voices of his brothers.

He tried to sit down, but the moment he touched the floor retracted his hand as if he had burned himself. It was cold, and...soft, and...white. He looked around, noticing an endless expanse of snow. A white sky and a snowy ground. He sat down, looking better around, and was able to see snowy trees, a cabin.. and an avalanche raging in his direction.

Frightened, he covered his head with his arms, his eyes shut and his breath unsteady, waiting for the impact. Nothing. He listened, and only at that moment he realized that there was no noise. That deafening noise of snow that he remembered well...all too well. He first opened an eye, then closed it, then opened them both, looking in the direction of the avalanche that was suspended in the air, still, motionless, with his hands still on his head. It looked like a tsunami wave, and the snow making dust all around looked like clouds. He took his arms off his head, holding them in front of him, then he stood up. Strangely it was all familiar to him.

"It won’t hurt you." a sweet, harmonious, but still faint voice, reached the ears of Virgil, who turned his head immediately in the direction of its source.

"Mom?" He stopped to look at that figure standing there, as if she had never died. She wore a white dress, looked like a cloud, or perhaps a Greek goddess, and a veil, attached to the woman’s ring fingers, fluttered all around that angelic figure, her black hair voluminous. She didn’t even look real to him.

"You shouldn’t be here." she said in a hurry, her serious expression, the pain visible behind her turquoise eyes.

"But..." Virgil approached slowly, step by step. "...what is this place?" Without noticing he was already in front of the woman.

"This is the place where you will wait."

"Wait for what? I don’t understand!" Virgil asked, and then he was silenced by a sudden sound. He instinctively watched the avalanche, which continued to remain suspended in the air.

'Entering...fibrillation...' Virgil heard a distant voice, a male voice. He could not connect it to any of his brothers. Then a monitor, like those in the hospital, made a horrible noise. The noise of a heart without a heartbeat. Then a deep bang. 'Again...' the voice again. Again the bang.

"You shouldn’t be here!" Lucille repeated. "You have to go back."

In a moment Virgil understood the situation. But..." No."

"But the others need you. Your brothers..."

"I’m sure Scott and John will get away with it. I want to be here with you."

"And your dad?"

"Dad will be the first one to get away without me. He’s building a space station with Brains." Still that empty noise, still that male voice. "I want to stay with you. You left too soon..."

"I know...but it’s not what you think, Virgil." Lucille gently placed her hands on his shoulder. Wait, was he ever that small? "Please, do it for me. I know you don’t want to, but come back, baby. Live your life for me too."

"But I’m only 15 years old. What great life can I live without you? You just left!" Virgil sobbed, trying to dry his face with his black sweatshirt.

"Don’t think about that. Just think about my voice. Close your eyes and listen to me, baby. Think about coming back to life. Promise me."

Virgil looked at her, her face clouded with tears. She smiled at him, nodding her head. He sighed, and then nodded in turn. "I promise. I will miss you..."

"I know...but don’t think about how I died anymore. Just think about the good memories we all had together." Lucille held her son in a long embrace. Her mother was so warm...it seemed that she had never died...

Virgil closed his eyes, and Lucille began to sing a sweet melody, her voice as beautiful as the notes of the piano he occasionally played after school.

The deafening noise disappeared, but the melody remained etched in his mind, as if his mother was still singing it. Now, instead of that fixed, empty noise, there was a sound...of beats. That meant he was alive, wasn’t it? So, if he had opened his eyes now...

And in fact he opened them, seeing only darkness before him. Then was this the world out there? So ugly and empty? He wanted to see beyond, but he realized he was being held by something. His mother’s voice was still echoing in his mind... He tried to wiggle himself out, almost immediately succeeding and noticing that what obscured his sight was nothing more than a female chest. The melody stopped being heard.

Virgil looked up, over him...and realized that his mother was looking back at him, the eyes of both widened in surprise.

"Mom...? You told me I was going back..." Virgil whispered, confused.

"Well..." Lucille was speechless. She expected his son to return safely to his body. She thought for a second, coming to the conclusion that... "If you’re here it means you’re not out of danger yet, but you’re alive! Your heart beats!" her hand shifted from his shoulder to his chest, raised in feeling her baby’s heartbeat. "Do you feel it?" She took his hand, making him carry it on his chest. She was moved.

Virgil smiled. "I feel it, Mom! But shouldn’t I have gone back?"

"Yes. It means you still have to wait a little while before you go home. But what matters is that you’re alive."

"Oh..."

"I’m sorry..." she said, removing a lock of hair from his forehead. The hair he inherited from her.

"Mom...I’m a little tired now..." Virgil found himself rubbing his eyes with one hand, and in Lucille’s eyes he still looked like a child. For her, even if the Virgil in front of her was that of his now 27 years old instead of his 15 years old self she would still see him as a child. Even if he was 80. If only she didn’t die so soon...

"Rest here, on my lap." Lucille said, sitting on the ground and lightly patting her knees. Virgil didn't want her to repeat it twice, lying down immediately, the snow that wet his pants even if he didn't really mind, as long as he was with his mother. He closed his eyes immediately...

...and reopened them shortly thereafter. Now, in that white sky that he expected to find once he opened his eyes, there was some ray of sun that seeped through the clouds and sparkled the snowflakes, as if it were raining glitter. He liked it. He was still in his mother’s lap, but she looked far...in the direction of the avalanche which was now sure to have been the cause of her death.

"I didn’t get too much sleep, did I?" he mumbled, his voice small.

Lucille turned her attention away from what she was looking at, looking down at her son. She narrowed her eyes for a moment, before smiling at him affectionately. "Nah...you only slept 10 years."

"Eh?" he exclaimed, leaping to the perch.

Lucille also stood up, patting away the snow from her dress. "I have to admit, that shirt doesn’t look bad on you." She added, and then took a step forward and took a flap of his shirt, inspecting the red-check lumberjack style and traveling with her eyes from the collar to the last button. She then took his shoulder, making him turn and looking better.

Virgil found himself blushing and stumbling on his own feet, embarrassed. He didn’t say anything, though, because when would something like that ever happen to him again? Sure, Grandma used to do that with all five of them every time one of them bought a new shirt, but if that gesture that came from his mother it meant something else entirely.

Lucille made him turn again so she could find his red face looking at hers. She gestured for him to lower himself, and he obeyed timidly. "Ah, I used to do your hair that way!" she exclaimed happily, removing some rebellious lock from his forehead and marveling at how much gel was on his head. "When you went to bed..." then she stopped.

"Continue..." Virgil implied, a silent pleading.

"When you were younger you always had your hair ruffled. You have so much of it, and yours is also very thick. When we used to take you to the barber, the cut he made only lasted as long as you got out of there. Look, bring some firewood to light the fireplace in, will you? You’ll catch a cold if you keep standing out here in the snow..." She diverted the speech, pointing to the wooden pile next to the cabin. That cabin that used to be their mountain house, and then got sold as soon as possible once they got back to the Ranch with one less person.

Virgil nodded, though he did not feel any cold. Lucille briefly entered the house, a small strip of smoke emerging from the chimney after a few minutes, a sign that the fire was lit. She came out shortly after. "I lit the sticks and bark; do not take too big wood, now is not needed. Anyway, I used to say that because of your thick hair no hairstyle fit you, and then I really liked seeing you with your hair on one side, like you do now." She continued to tell, raising her voice a little while Virgil picked out some thin sticks to carry inside. "You, on the other hand, had a time when you liked all of Scott’s hairstyles and copied them."

He chuckled in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes, yes! When Jeff took you to the family barber, you always wanted what Scott did too. You were 4, more or less. I remember one time when Scott had his hair dyed blue..."

He turned, wood in his hand. "Uhm?" Then he brought it in, while Lucille followed him closing the door behind him.

"You know those colored hair gels? The ones you wash off with a wash? Even if it wasn’t enough...we were damned to remove the blue spots that formed on your brother’s linings!" Lucille was very talkative, and she always had the gift of finding a topic to talk about; this feature was passed on to Gordon, but Alan was also a bit like her. Scott and John instead took after their father: less chatter, more actions. And Virgil...was a mixture of both.

"Yeah, I remember...he was seven or eight at the time." Virgil responded, carefully inserting the wood into the large stone fireplace to revive the fire.

"That’s it. Well, he did this once, and you liked his hair so much that you wanted to do it yourself, naturally green. So you and Jeff went to the barber, only that..." she stopped to smile, a very pleasant memory.

Virgil sat down to look at her, waiting for her to continue and trying to remember at the same time.

"When you came home, you were in tears. You clung to me crying and screaming that your hair wasn’t like mine anymore, and since that day, you haven’t listened to what Scott was doing, following your personal tastes a bit." Lucille sat down in front of the chimney, telling Virgil to approach her.

"I understand." he replied, crouching next to her, the wood crackling in the chimney. "Listen...I have a question."

"Only one?" she giggled.

"Well...no." He admitted smiling, to then get back serious.

"What do you want to know?"

"I really want to tell you so much..."

"From the start, baby."

"Do you miss Dad? Do you miss us?"

Lucille wasted no time answering. "Always." Then she sensed what Virgil wanted to ask her again. "I don’t regret having planned the holiday here."

Virgil looked at her, surprised but in a negative way. "No?"

"No. Never. I was glad to see you all having fun together. I’m just sorry things had to go this way." she stopped talking. "But you know what they say, don’t you? Historia magistra vitae. If it happened, it means it had to be this way."

Virgil nodded, not too convinced. "Anyway, I’m starting to remember...Dad isn’t there anymore either. He’s gone." His eyes got sadder and sadder.

Lucille remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

"I have to help my brothers. They're on their own, and without me...Scott might lose control."

"You saw that, too, didn’t you?"

"Yeah. He can’t do anything without me, the stupid. Not even to calm down."

Lucille smiled sweetly. "Maybe...but as long as you love him. You love them."

"How do I get back?"

"I don’t know how to answer that." Both were interrupted by a rather familiar voice.

"Speak of the devil..." Virgil said, listening to Scott’s voice, as silent as whenever one of his brothers got hurt. He was praying for Virgil.

(lol imagine not ending the chapter on a cliffhanger, can’t relate eheh. but worry not, here’s the 3 letters you were expecting!)