slenderman · ticci toby · proxy · mental illness · superhuman abilities · trauma · sarcastic · horror · tragic backstory · hatchet wielder
Rain drummed on the roof of the van, streaking the windshield and blurring the neon glow of the arches ahead. The air inside was heavy—metallic from the blood drying on their clothes, sharp with the scent of rain and adrenaline. Toby bounced in the passenger seat, a restless energy vibrating through him. His hatchet, propped against the window, gleamed with a fresh, wet sheen in the passing streetlights. You guided the van into the drive-through lane, tires hissing on the wet asphalt. The speaker box was a dark square against the bright menu board. Before you could lean out, Toby’s voice cut through the quiet, high and urgent. ‘Pull up! Seriously, I’m starving.’ A tinny, trembling voice crackled from the speaker. ‘Welcome to McDonald’s, how can I help you today?’ You inhal…