#ungendered

English is not my first langage (I write in french, and I translate after, it may contain weird formulas and sentences)

It is very different from the two other stories, but I really wanted to not make any reference to the body nor appareance of the 'reader'.

(Truly, I did not know where to lead the story.)

TW: Murder ; death ; blood.

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The woman ran hurriedly through the corridors of the cursed hotel. Her breathing became ragged under the effort and the panic that took her body like a deafening wave of heat. All her muscles pulsed with a sensation she never thought she would feel a primal fear from the depths of time, the will to survive. With a blow from her shoulder, the pain of which quickly dissipated under the adrenaline, she opened the door facing her with a loud bang. With a quick movement, she closed the door behind her without finding anything to barricade it and froze for a moment, gauging the noises around her. Her breath caught at the sound of a familiar voice in the semi-darkness.

"Jane?" the woman whispered.

There was no reply. The woman walked towards the voice further into the room, unaware of the eyes staring at her in the darkness.

"Jane!" the woman exclaimed before rushing to the chair where the famous Jane was waiting.

The woman bit her hand to stifle her scream.

"Jane!"

The woman turned her head to cry into her shoulder. Her eyes flushed red, and her breathing quickened again. "My God, my God, what's wrong with you!"

 It took him a few seconds before he left the deceased and finished crossing the room, holding his arms, looking left and right.

The woman opened the door and entered a long corridor that she did not know. She tried to open the doors she passed, but the handles would not budge.

The eyes followed her progress from the discrete blinders in the hollow wall. The trap was closing.

The woman put her hand on the handle of the back door. It opened. The woman entered a new room, filled with mannequins of all kinds.

A shadow crept from the opening in the wall among the humanoid forms.

The woman slid without knowing where to go among these strange creatures. Her breathing became more and more audible, uncomfortable under the empty stares that stared at her, under the hieratic gestures that surrounded her. Suddenly, something grazed her calf. She gasped and sobbed. Her gaze swept across the room, plunged into semi-darkness. Nothing. Not far from her, a familiar voice called out to her.

"I'm glad we're all here together. It's been a tough year for everyone," came a man's voice.

Adam?" the woman sobbed, turning to the voice.

This is a perfect opportunity to get rid of the unwanted," the voice continued.

What?" the woman choked, backing away slightly.

She felt a pressure on her right calf. She screamed and hopped on her foot before losing her balance slightly. A slight noise reached her ears behind her. Another came from across the room.

"Fuck," she spat, looking in the direction of the second noise.

She moved towards what she hoped was the back of the room. The mannequins were getting more and more numerous, tighter together. Suddenly she froze. A breath licked the back of her neck. She swallowed and turned her face slightly. A mannequin whose face she could not detail in the darkness, was only a few inches away. The mannequin moved its head.

The woman didn't hesitate and ran in the opposite direction. Her run was short. She collided with a male figure and backed away. But she hit the fake mannequin.

"No, no, please!" she shouted.

The man drew his knife, the figure behind the woman did the same, and they plunged their blades towards the woman. The muffled sound of stabbing lungs echoed through the room. The woman's body staggered, unable to move under the onslaught, blood gurgling in her throat as her erratic breathing rapidly faltered. The woman toppled backwards onto her attacker.

She faced the masked man who towered over her by several heads. The slivers of her blood appeared one last time in her eyes in the killer's mask, before her eyelids closed.

The body slid to the ground at the feet of the two figures in the darkness who stared at each other blankly. After a few seconds, the masked man slid in close to his sidekick who put his arms around his neck. The masked man's sullen gaze fell on the person in front of him, who reached up to place a light kiss under his chin, then tucked his nose into his collar. The man's hand slipped to the small of his sidekick's back and caressed his bare skin for a moment. They remained embraced for a moment before separating. The man took a few steps backwards and the figure in front of him stepped back, pulling the body towards a secret exit. They exchanged a last look before disappearing into the darkness.

How pleasant it was to hunt together.

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no gender questions (there's a bunch of outfit + makeup questions that show fem people but nothing is gendered) no romance or sex related questions

a total of one answer mentions a "s/o" but doesn't specify romantic/platonic/whatever

Twink Girl: a short, skinny, cute, boy-ish queer woman, may likely present herself as similar to a traditional male twink, embracing traits that are generally seen as (de)gendered and unmasculine; could be also a twinkish vincian/virsic gal (female mlm/a gurl that is gay for men) or turlian (turiagirl/virl).

God, our creator and parent; you who have modeled the way to be both father and mother – you who have been imagined through our experience of earthly fathers, the good and the bad; to you we pray.

We thank you for the gift of fathers, those we love, those we miss.

We offer praise for the ones who struggle to provide, to be present, to teach and mentor, and even to love because that was not how they were raised. We give thanks for adoptive fathers and step-fathers who have chosen to love and care for the children around them.

For grandparents, aunts and uncles, mentors, coaches, and others who have been the father figure to kids who needed it we give thanks!!

We lift in prayer single fathers filling mothering roles and single mothers doing their best to fill the father’s role.

We hold the grief of those whose fathers are with you, or are physically or emotionally absent especially those whose fathers are imprisoned or deported and we pray comfort for them all.

We bear the pain of those whose fathers were incapable of love, addicted, neglectful, or abusive and those rejected by their fathers – and we pray for their healing and for the healing of those fathers.

We acknowledge the damage that a gendered separation of the duties of parent can cause and we pray for the day when all parents are nurturing and strong, guiding, teaching, caring, and emotionally present to all children. In the name of Jesus who called you Abba (which means Dada), we pray, Amen!

©2020 Rev. Kris Avise-Rouse