Don't go in the mines.

There's a loud thump as The Miner falls onto the floor. Pick axe clattering against the tiles. Before he slowly rises, boots heavy on the floor and a gloved hand grabbing onto his axe again. There's heavy, slow, muffled breathing from the mask.

Wendy took quick steps back, eyeing the masked person in front of her with a look of fear. Although she had encountered The Miner before and hadn’t exactly been harmed by him, she still feared him. Her hands were trembling as she brought them up in a defensive manner as if to block a hit from his pick axe.

He points the pick right at her, almost like he's mocking her fear by bringing the axe closer. His boots thumping against the tiles with each step.

He points the pick at her fridge slowly, before lowering it and standing there. Like he expects her to understand what he's saying without actually saying anything. To him, it's common sense. Or maybe he knows how much of an asshole he's being, enjoying it.

He doesn't say anything. He just stands there, like an asshole who knows he's messing around and is enjoying the outcome. Just waiting for her to somehow mess up or make something he likes. And what he likes isn't exactly easy to guess from the silent miner.

> New Mod here. This account is officially active again. All posts made by the OG Mod will remain, but tagged with 'og.mod'. They, and us, have decided to share the account as a means of them still holding power over it. While letting a new Mod take over. After much discussion, we, the new Mod, will be using it as we did love 2 accounts that they used. So both @patricia-preaches and @quentin-questions will be active. We hope to have fun, even if the accounts are very small. Thank you! - The Other <

> As is this account. Thank you for your paitence. - The Other <

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Harry stands there with his pick axe in hand, staring at Beetlejuice. The only sound is his muffked breathing. It doesn't look like he'll talk.

Harry grabs his hand tightly, smearing blood and coal dust on Beetlejuice. He leans towards him, tinted lenses staring right at him. He's trying to scare him, just like he's done to Wendy.

Seeing the other unfazed only makes The Miner try harder. He releases Beetlejuice's hand, opting instead to use both of his hands to raise his pick and swing it down at him.

Harry's heavy breathing is heard as he takes a step towards Beetlejuice. His pick is held tightly, ready to swing again if needed. He wants to see something close to how Wendy reacted.

The farther the uninvited guest go into the mine, the closer its inhabitant gets. Said man's boots thump along the ground as he approaches them. Many mineshafts like the walls, lights above to light the path. A few of the shafts are drowned in darkness. Only one has a moving light, however. And it draws closer.

A gloved hand smacks against the rock wall as Harry pulls himself out of the shaft, headlight bright and pointing right at the two men. The sound of his pick scraping against the ground is heard as he completely emerges from the dark opening. The Miner is here and he wants them out.

Harry's boots thump along the ground as he gives chase. He knows the mines better than anyone else. His headlight bobs like a stick in water as he follows them. A few lights pop as he smashes his pick into them, causing more darkness to follow.

The moment the camera hits the ground, Harry starts to slow. He completely stops at the camera, rasing his pick. Bringing it down with a swing, the camera explodes into small bits. The miner stands and watches as the men get father away towards the opening of the mine.

The Miner watches them pull away, headlamp off as he stands in the darkness of the mine. He did what he had to do. And with that, he heads back down, ready to take care of the bodies still left inside.

The man sticks out like a sore thumb in Wendy's home, standing extremely still. He turns his head slowly, taking in the house. Once finished, he finally looks at her. His head tilts slightly, muffled breathing heard in the silence.

Wendy looked him up, backing herself into the corner of the kitchen against the counter. Her mouth remained open in shocks. She just stared at him, thoroughly disturbed by the miner standing in her quaint little kitchen. There were books and little knickknacks everywhere.

He steps towards her, his boot thudding loudly. He hasn't released his pick as takes more steps. They're slow, deliberately trying to cause a reaction. No words are exchanged as he creeps closer, breathing sounding louder the closer he gets.

Wendy’s own breath came in and out shakily, quickly, like she couldn’t breathe. Her whole body was shaking heavily. With each step she sort of jumped. She glanced over to the knife block before reaching out to it as quickly as she could.

He stops in front of her, close enough for her to stab him if she wished. He leans down a bit, going right for the face to masked face interaction. The miner holds eerily still, almost like a statue. His dirty lenses stare right into her eyes.

Wendy only had her grip on the knife for a mere moment before it fell from her hands with a clatter. Instead, she held her hands up, the back of her head pressed against the cupboard. Her lips moved like she was trying to say something but nothing came out.

He tilts his head, mimicking the action of listening to what she's trying to say. The Miner makes no other moves, waiting for her to get some sort of word out. It's mocking in the way he does it. He knows she's terrified but only craves a reaction he knows all too well from his usual targets.

It wasn’t long before Wendy let out an ear piercing, shrill scream. She just kept on screaming until she felt like her lungs were going to give out. She felt like her heart was going to explode just from fright alone.

Slowly, Harry pulls away, thumb stroking the pick's handle for a moment. It appears that he's thinking of something. It takes almost no time at all before he swings his pick down into the counter, right where the knife block is. It's enough distance away to show he wasn't attempting to harm her, but it does show that he could if he wanted it.

Wendy screamed again and jumped off to the side. Tears started to stream down her face, looking at the damage that had been done to her counter. Good god, that could have been her face. She took more steps away from him until she deemed the distance was good enough.

Harry yanks the pick axe out of the counter, flinging some of the damage with the movement. He looks at Wendy one more time before turning his back to her and heading for her front door. He's gotten all that he came here for.

The tinted lenses of his gear keeps it from affecting him. He lurches forward, ripping the camera away from Lydia. He holds it away from her, turning it this way and that, looking it over.

Harry shoves the blunt end of his pick into her chest, pushing her back without causing any damage. He stares down at her before shaking the camera slightly; he's mocking her in a way.

Lydia’s eyes widened and her heart leapt up to her throat in fear. She stared back at the lenses, her hands gripping the sides of her dress. Her already pale face seemed to get even more ghostly. She stumbled back.

Lydia’s reaction was delayed but she managed to catch the camera, still keeping her eyes on him. She only flinched when he said boo but she backed up again, quickly turning to run from him. She screamed as she did.

He doesn't chase her despite the feeling of needing to. His shoulders shake with silent laughter. Harry can't help but enjoy scaring people, especially when their reactions are hilariously delayed.

*she quietly sat at the motel desk, waiting for anyone to drop by and rent a room. Not like that happened much anymore. Norman had told her about this @warden-whinges who was supposedly in Fairvale. She had heard of Harry Warden before. Not that she payed much mind to those stories*

Harry opens the door to the motel lobby quite harshly, practically yanking it open. His boots thump along the floor as he enters the lobby with his pick. He tracks mud in with him.

*she paused quietly watching him for a moment, tilting her head slightly. She stood there for a moment, she'd seen worse honestly. She probably should let Norman know about- the guy with a weapon in the lobby. But that was something she could do later*

He gives everything a quick glance over, head moving this way and that to see if there's anything that could be of value to him. Seeing nothing, he slowly turns his head towards the only other person in the room. His stare is heavy despite the tinted lenzes covering his eyes.

Harry doesn't say anything as he starts to lump towards the desk. He stops in front of it, staring down the only other person with him at the moment. He ligts his pick up before letting it slam onto the desk below. He doesn't take his gaze off her, watching her like a doctor does a dying patient.

He reaches into his pocket before withdrawalling a nearly crushed organ. It's too damaged to tell what kind despite the fact it's large enough to fit in Harry's hand. He turns his hand, letting the bloody thing smack on the desk with a nasty wet sound. He continues staring quietly, waiting for a reaction.

*she paused, tensing up slightly as she looked down at it. She wasn't sure what it was exactly she just knew it was a human organ.. a fresh one at that. She looked up at him, her eyes widening just slightly. If she felt scared before that didn't compare to how she felt now. She felt her stomach churning slightly just at the sight of the slightly mutilated organ as she looked back down at it*

He stands there a bit more before turning around. He starts to leave, heavy footfalls leaving more mud in their wake. Seems he just showed up to cause issues and panic than commit murder.

Harry falls on his knees, keeping himself from crushing the man below. All there is to him is his heavy breathing and the squeaking sound of his gloves on his pick axe tightening. He stares down at the priest from behind tinted lenzes.

...welcome to...St. Peters...I suppose...*he backed away from him, obviously uncomfortable, the pickaxe especially looking threatening to him, even if it didn't bother him I his current state he still had to act it out*

Harry rises, his boots making tumping sounds as he does so. He moves his head slightly, taking in the area before it settles back on the other man in thr room. He points the top of his pick axe at him.

*he just blinks at him awkwardly, he has no idea what is happening right now*

Seeing no reaction, Harry lunges at the man, gloved hand outstretched to grab his arm. He doesn't like it when people don't follow what he means, no matter how vague or confusing.

He manhandles the priest, forcing him to turn around. He starts to drag him towards the small candles before letting the man go. Harry then points at the blood covered valentine's day box that sits under the small table of candles. His heavy breathing from his gas mask doesn't let up nor speed up; it stays consistent.

*he smiled*...thank you, it's...*he looks at the blood, he really looks at the blood*...it's quite lovely...*he picks it up, licking the blood off the box like a weirdo, because he is*

He harshly pats The Father's back before he starts to lumber away. With Harry around, there's bound to be bodies to follow and more bloody boxes to show.

*he flinched again at being pat...then just shrugged and continued licking the blood off the box*

On his way out, he grabs a small box of the waifers people take during communion and otherr ceremonies. He can't survive off of water and coal dust alone.

A large hand settles on Martin's shoulder in response to the disposal of the gift.

Martin flinched. He slowly turned his head to look up at the masked figure, his eyes going wide.

Slowly, Harry lifts his pickaxe up towards Martin's eyes before using it to point at the disposed box. The hand on his shoulder tightens, using it to manhandle the other man to face what he's pointing at.

Martin looked at the disposed box and blinked. He tried to squirm out of Harry’s grip before picking up the box, holding it away from himself out of disgust. He raised an eyebrow at Harry.

He removes his hand, standing scarily still as his heavy breathing rings out from his gas mask. He doesn't seem upset now that Martin has his gift.

He began to slowly back away from the man. He still held the box away from him, staring at Harry like he was afraid to look away.

Harry tilts his head slowly, watching from behind the two-way lenzes. Other than that, he doesn't move. He only breathes heavily as he keeps quiet.