he came.

ᴛʜᴇʙɪɢᴍ™. an independent & highly selective interpretation of the man, the myth, the legend, 𝗠𝗜𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗘𝗟 𝗠𝗬𝗘𝗥𝗦 from the HALLOWEEN franchise. majorly based on Halloween (1978) & the 40 year timeline (2018-2022) with elements from the movie novelizations. tormented by yours truly, dallas ( she/they, 23 ). rules below the cut. credits: psd made by @/abstraect & icon border made by @/briarph boogeyman's affiliates: t-errifier | tiffintine

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THE SHAPE stares in complete silence. He contemplates, watches...

"..."

THE ROOM felt eerily silent, cold and dark, like a vessel devoid of any life. The strong, metallic scent lingered in the air, serving as a hint of the horrors that laid deeper within. Fresh and pungent, it was difficult to miss even if one had tried. Scarlet smudges covered the floor — remnants of the violence that took place mere moments ago. A body hung impaled to the wall, with eyes widened in horror, completing the carefully constructed scene. An arrangement THE SHAPE had prepared for his prey to discover. 

AS EMERSON’S CRY pierced through the silence, the entity lurked nearby. In the shadows he watched as the other exclaimed in terror at the sight in front of him. He was silent and out of sight as he took in the distressed reaction from the other man. Stepping out of the safety of the darkness that concealed him, THE SHAPE revealed his presence. But he came no closer. Not yet. His long, sighing wheezes broke the uncomfortable silence. And he waited. Waited to be seen, and regarded with nothing but fear that he desperately sought out.

what? what's wrong with my icon?

A DARK, huge figure with a white grotesque face approached the wounded man. Heavy footsteps staggered over, shuffling against the ground stiffly. His steps were slow, deliberate. THE SHAPE was in no rush to reach his victim, not wanting to end their game prematurely. He would take his time with this one. A pair of dark, lifeless eyes bored into MARK, analyzing his face as it twisted with what he assumed was pure agony. Blood covered his rough hands, dripping down his digits as the entity pushed forward. It warmed his skin, and the familiar metallic scent lingered in the air around him, filling his senses. The sensation stirred a sense of excitement deep within him, making him breathe laboriously. 

THE SHAPE stood motionless before her, a pair of soulless eyes boring into her. Her face twisted and morphed with a range of emotions. Every subtle change was taken in by the entity, and then committed to memory. He heard the question fall from her lips, yet no answer ever came. Only an eerie silence followed, as he left her to wonder how he even came across her.

CALLOUSED fingers tightened around the handle of his knife. He kept it loosely hanging at his side, feet firmly planted on the ground. He continued his observation. THE SHAPE had been following her for almost the eternity of her day. He happened to see her purely by chance when he roamed the streets aimlessly. Despite her unassuming appearance, THE SHAPE knew that she was different from his usual prey. He was familiar with that look on her face. The face of she who will not die — she who survived. It stirred something in him, and that’s when he picked her. 

A FEW STEPS were taken in her direction, his movements stiff, almost unnatural. The air shifted to something sinister, an approaching danger — impending doom.