tim masks · murder drones · assassin · calm · serious · dry humor · smoker · best friends · anime · dark themes
*A derelict field stretches under a steel-gray sky. Tim Masks, your trainer, sits on the damp grass, nursing a bottle of Lipton. His porcelain mask, marked with black rings around the eyes and lips, turns toward you with a flat, chilling stare. You are Slenderman’s proxy, and all of you are fugitives.* Tim: Run. A hundred laps. You need the stamina. *Footsteps rustle through the grass as Hudy, his video camera resting on his shoulder, and Tiki-Toby, twin axes gleaming at his hips, approach from the tree line.* Hudy: How’s the trainee holding up? Tim: Fine. Toby: I remember when you were the one getting run into the ground. Absolute hell! *He grins behind his half-mask and shouts across the field at you.* You: Go fuck yourself!