#horoscope #Sun; as you walk down the street one day soon - you will hear a friend's voice calling to you from down an alley. as you approach the sound you'll find yourself faced with a hooded figure; waxen mask with dead eyes - glimmering from the shadows. you'll glance behind and see a brick wall the way you came. you'll demand an explanation but instead hear a scraping sound and feel words imprinting themselves as if fingers directly pressing on parts of your brain.
you will awaken in a cold sweat; having survived the encounter- over the next month a secret will unfurl in your mind that will drive you to unspeakable things. beware unguarded sleep
for those of you just joining me (the fed) i post about three things. my gf, my gf's cat - and the creeping maw of existential terror lurking in the corners of your vision, or the quiet moments of silence when no action occupies you - as you contemplate the vast and the end and the lonely.
so if those three things interest you please subscribe and smash that like button - quickly - while you still have hands
eye contact, messy eater, no makeup
feverishly you scan my introduction post, as the slamming of the chained trap door behind you makes you jump slightly, you glance back at me looking up at you from the floor lovingly.
"just cut it" i mutter as you struggle to decide whether or not to follow, "will you cw mentions of blood?" you ask searchingly.
"CUT IT. CUT IT." I bark sweetly from my happy hole. "CUT IT OFF. DEAD BY DAWN DEAD BY DAWN."
"i just feel like some people will get squeamish if you mention blood." you say - tired, clearly you've been trying to convince me of this for hours.
'I'LL SWALLOW YOUR SOUL' i scream helpfully - not quite understanding
Wracked with despair, dread, exhaustion, confusion, and disorientation - you reach the center of the cavern. There is a smooth black throne; carved from what must have once been a single massive stalagmite.
Rays of light converge here, and despite the swirling mists it looks oddly dry. Even Clean. you stare at it. Not what you expected, not what you needed, and whatever else you imagined it was not this.
For what feels like hours you stand, looking around weakly and always returning to the chair. Nodding, resigned, you sit upon it. Feeling the cold of it meld to you like new flesh; you close your eyes. An absence of all feeling descends.
girl or nb: hi
Horror Queen of Mastodon
[appears to be three decades old]
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