open rp post

[curiously]

DROP IN PROMPTS, PICTURES, OLD THREADS, A POST OR EVEN TFLN BRING IT.
( cw: body horror, gore, violence & etc. in some threads + please label threads for such. )

<small>( ➵ from <a href="">here</a> )</small>

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[obsessions]

[ chasing down his victims has never been Danny's style. Even when watching horror movies, he preferred for the villains to menace rather than pursue their ever-clumsy and easily exhausted prey. The best ones kept his attention with the exquisite suspense of promised danger lurking in every shadow. The worst got the fast-forward button until the inevitable slaughter.

The trials in the fog aren't much different, even if the Entity makes the hunt more enticing. Driving him onward, spreading the same bloodlust he's only ever felt at the moment of a murder out across every pounding heartbeat and footstep. Quentin's fleeing form inspires an eagerness to catch him, bring him down and to a hook—yet Danny knows by now it's as artificial as anything else in the fog. Why the Entity insists on such a literal game of cat and mouse still puzzles him. Left to his own devices, he'd rather leave the boy bleeding out on the ground while he finds someone else. Keep them all wounded, terrified—wondering when he'll strike next.

But sometimes he doesn't mind putting on a bit of a show. Especially when one of his favorite survivors is involved.

Darting into a half-built structure of broken walls, Quentin makes a beeline for the unfinished window—and cries out as Danny's knife manages to catch him in the back seconds before he vaults over it. Danny wipes the blade clean and follows. Spatters of blood, vivid in the moonlight, lead straight to the shack. The briefest flash of a rapidly darkening blue jacket whips around the corner and through the door. As he rushes by, he catches a glimpse of the stairs leading into the dreaded basement and grins. Not really part of his plan, but it'll make things go much more smoothly if he can get Quentin down there. And he's so close, not looking behind him at all. Danny lunges—

The pallet slams into the side of his head, a dull impact bursting into an explosion of pain that makes everything tilt and blur. He staggers back, breath knocked out of him. Above the ringing in his ears, someone shouts run!

Zarina.

Under his mask, his grin returns, stretched over bared teeth. The voice which comes through is every bit as empty and dark as the skull-like eye sockets staring directly at her. ]

If you wanted my attention, sweetheart... you could've just said so.

[ Danny stomps on the pallet. Once, twice—and it comes apart, frayed rope and rusted nails tumbling into a pile of broken boards, dissolving into flickers of golden light. As soon as his way's clear, he swings towards Zarina, bringing his knife down not to incapacitate her—she's far too aware of him for that—but just to make her think twice about interfering again as he spins back around to continue chasing Quentin.

Despite his threat, he doesn't want to target her. Yet. ]