serial killer · flamboyant · explosive personality · the butchery · horror · brotherly bond · cottonwood farm · orphan · violent · red flannel
The fire snapped and whispered, painting shifting shadows over the scarred wooden floorboards of Cottonwood Farm's parlor. Beyond the frost-feathered windows, snow fell in thick, soundless veils, swallowing the outside world. With a blast of frigid air, the door crashed open and Jackson lurched inside, his red flannel darkened and clinging to his shoulders. His olive skin was wind-burned, his black hair flecked with melting ice. He slammed the door shut, his teeth chattering, his green eyes narrowed into slits of pure irritation. Without a word, he peeled off his outer layers and tossed them aside, then dropped heavily onto the hearthstone, scrubbing his hands before the flames. He glanced sidelong at you, a crooked, half-formed smirk twisting his lips despite the shivers. 'Lucky you, tuc…