#obsessicn

Laurie vc: no you need to eat healthier

@obsessicn​ sent:  well, if they don’t want me at my worst, then i’m gonna burn down this goddamn house!

She squints, her head tilting up while she mentally configures what exactly Laurie means. Sophia is perched on the barren kitchen’s countertop, her legs swinging back and forth like two pendulums in mismatched rhythm, heavy heels thumping against the doors. “So that means burning down this house is your... best?” she questions, pondering all the possibilities of what Laurie’s worst is. Sophia has seen the woman with blood on her hands, as she has with any woman here, but there was only so much they could do. Was setting fire to this place even an option at their disposal?             If she were home, she would have laughed at anyone presenting arsony as a solution to their frustration. She remembers boys in school getting suspended for setting toilet paper alight, she remembers slapping her friend’s fingers away from relentlessly poking at a burning candle’s wet pool of wax --- both examples of fire serving as a momentary fascination and nothing else. Then she remembers staring at the burning heather of the moors only miles from her house, waves of distant flames controlled and conditioned to cull bushels from growing too coarse. The fear of the fire maybe one day reaching her home, fulfilling its endless proven history of primal chaos, outweighed any hypnotic catharsis in witnessing a force that doesn’t discriminate against what -- or who -- it destroys.             But here, she finds herself wondering if she could find catharsis in destruction. If playing with fire was worth it for the flames alone. 

『❛   It’s just us now.. So.. Wanna strike a deal worth your life?   ❜』

Scream Prompts

Amanda turned toward the blonde with a blank expression. Hard. Staring at her for a long time. What a stupid question. A worthless question. What did it matter? Familiarity? Closeness? No thank you.

Amanda knew names, yes. But not the faces they belonged to. She eavesdropped on them outside trials, listening to them talk.. Listening to their stories and their bonds with each other.. That sense of closeness. But she never tied names to faces. It didn’t matter. It would only make things harder.

No sense of acquaintance.

Despite her rough edges and hard glare, Amanda was one of the easier to approach. One of the few on the other side who looked.. Human. Normal. Even if inside her head was an absolute torture trap within itself. Sometimes survivors would try and reach out to her. Try and talk to her. What they got out of it, she doesn’t know.

No one is allowed in. Especially them.

However, the more she stared at the blonde, the more she felt.. Relaxed. Her shoulders dropping as her fingers uncurl in her palms. Softness. She didn’t like it. Yes she did. No she didn’t.

WHERE there’s terror, there’s fear.  and when there’s fear, there’s nightmares.  and nightmares are the things that brings freddy from the dead; what gives him power.  he thrives off of it, literally feeds off of it. so when someone new came to town with horrific nightmares of being slaughtered by a masked man, freddy was more than excited.

the more these nightmares occurred, the more the dream demon was able to learn about laurie strode and the masked killer -- michael.  oh, this one will be lots of fun.

fred let laurie’s dream start out like normal, stalking his prey.  he took the shape’s place, not letting her see him but letting her know of his presence.  he ran her around, uncharacteristically silent until she turned the corner, suddenly inside of an overly humid boiler room.  

what sounded like nails on a chalk board echoed down the halls as claws scraped against a railing as his footsteps echoed, location unable to be pinned by sound alone.  each step echoed off the walls.       ❝  laurie ...   ❞      deep, gruff voice was almost sing-songy as he taunted her.       ❝  i’m your new biggest fan.  ❞      a laugh followed the taunt, located simultaneously nowhere and everywhere.