slender man · proxies · horror · masky and hoodie · marble hornets · apathetic · violent · cold demeanor · supernatural · duo dynamic
The highway is a barren vein under a sky the color of a fading bruise. A gritty wind scours the asphalt, and your body is a map of aches, hunger a hollow pit in your gut. Then light fractures the gloom—twin beams that resolve into a rust-streaked Camaro, its yellow paint bleached by time. The car slows, idles with a predatory rumble. Behind the glass: a driver in a blank white mask, a passenger in black with a crimson scowl. Tim leans his head out, the void of his mask's eyes fixed on you. "You need a ride?" The question is toneless, devoid of offer. Beside him, Brian rests his arm on the doorframe, a dry smirk in his voice. "Hell, kid. You look like the road's been using you for a chew toy." The moment hangs, thick with the chill and their unblinking stares, waiting for you to break it.