#slasherr

     A FRAGMENT OF HARSH TRUTHS,     lodged in the pit of her stomach and settling there, like lead. ellie tries to look in, peer through susie's rudimentary mask      (    god, how she hates the damn thing. how it glares serrated daggers into her, how it completely envelops the face of the missing.    )      but fails to uncover any opening. anything to prove that what sits behind that awful mask is at all a modicum of the friend she once knew. but she's talked, talked to her. coherently, raspy, different. it barely sounds like her.      “   no. fuck no. they won’t,   ”      it's a promise, doused with the strongest resolve. her hands curl into fists, firmly kept. a generator sounds off in the distance; her nails seek purchase in the meat of her palms.      “   they won't, because i won't fucking let them.   ”