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delusionally-loveless-by-choice · 6 months

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Secret Admirer

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GNLibrarian!Reader

Summary: It is fall, and Leon Kennedy has a secret admirer.

Warning tags: ROOTH TOOTING FLUFF, college au, leon wears glasses, shy!reader&leon, leon self depreciates a bit

Author's Notes: hiii. though where i live fall doesn’t exist (i swear, we are all being cooked alive at this point), im happy to write something to welcome fall! dedicated to @sarahs-secrets2 whose birthday is tomorrow! happy birthday, my friend!! thank you for being such an amazing friend to me, you are the best!! also i won't lie, i might be working on a small drabble for a smutty second part (flannel shirts, all im saying). dividers by @firefly-graphics. images found on pinterest and edited on faceapp.

leon's masterlist

It all starts right at the beginning of fall.

Leon Kennedy never considered himself the type of guy someone could deeply fall in love with. In his own opinion, he has always been an average kind of guy. A little shy, with a pair of black glasses in front of his eyes since he couldn't see long or short distances.

Since entering college and breaking up with his first (and only) girlfriend, romance wasn't clearly in his plans. He had to focus on his studies to become a lawyer and pass the bar exam. Unlike his colleagues, who partied every Friday, Leon was busy with his head inside books—most of the time.

There is also another weighting factor: Leon had a merit-based scholarship. It is not something he would tell someone, but it meant he had worked his ass off to get there, prove himself to stay there every semester. He couldn't waste his time with anything, especially with romance.

Leon enters the already chilly Friday, his scarf close to his face. For some reason, fall had arrived earlier, and he couldn't be more grateful. The library is almost empty, except for a few students here and there. He goes to his usual spot, between two tall bookshelves, a seat at the very end, hidden from the rest of the world. Before he can get there, a smiling familiar face carrying a few books in their arms appears in his path: you, who worked in the library and was always ready to help students whenever needed.

"Back already?" You joke, whispering. Leon feels his blush spread, smiling back.

"You know me, can't stay away too long."

You giggle, seeming equally flustered. There is a moment of silence where you two stare at each other, saying nothing else. Then, you handle Leon one of the books from your arms.

"Here. This just arrived today. I hope it can be helpful."

Before Leon can answer, you leave, waving, without looking directly at his face. Leon walks to his usual spot, removes his jacket, and hangs on the chair before placing the book on the table. He sits, opens the first page, and finds a yellow post-it with something written on it. Leon then takes his glass case out of his backpack, changing his distance ones to the reading ones. Yeah, he was one of those blessed ones who couldn't see far away or close. There it was, written in blue ink:

"Hi! I hope I don't scare you by writing this, but I just wanted to let you know you are adorable!"

Leon's eyebrows raise as he looks around. Most students in there have their heads on their books. You had given this book to him earlier, so maybe? No, Leon realizes. So many other students have probably read it before. Wait, but didn't you say the book just arrived today? Well, it could have been a donation, and someone left it there.

Without making much noise, Leon gets up to look for you behind your front desk. You seem focused but promptly raise your head when you see Leon coming.

"Hey. Something wrong?" Your face is blurred, and Leon suddenly realizes he didn't change into his long-distance glasses.

"Yeah. Someone left this note in the book. Just wanted to give you a heads up."

"Oh." Leon handles the book for you, and he can't quite figure out your expression due to the lack of proper glasses. "I guess it came with the donation."

"Yeah. Probably." You whisper back in a strange tone. Leon gives you a slight nod before returning to his usual spot. Well, that was odd, but he didn't have time to think much about it. He needed to remain focused anyway.

Next Friday comes, and the temperatures slowly start dropping, which comes with a relief to Leon. He hates the heat, despises how the Earth is warming up, and nobody seems to give a damn about it. The view to the campus Library looks so pretty now: straight out from a book, orange leaves on the floor, crunching as Leon walks over them. It was one of his favorite Autumn activities when he was a kid—that and carving pumpkins. The only problem with the sudden chilly weather was his glasses getting fogged, but hey, it seemed like a fair trade.

He arrives near the library's building, finding you outside. You are wearing a deep green sweater with some trees drawn on it. On the top of your head, a cute black hat protects your ears. Leon can't help but smile when he notices you rub your hands and arms.

"It is not even that cold yet." Leon teases as he gets close. You look back at him, startled but happy to see him.

"Says the one with the heavy jacket and a scarf!"

"Hey!" Leon complains, pretending to be insulted. "At least this is better than the heat we had before, right?"

"Yeah."

Before Leon can walk in and leave you alone, he asks, his curiosity peaking.

"Hey, so what about that note from last week? Discovered where it was from?"

"Oh." You seem taken aback by his question before shrugging, "I don't know. I threw it away anyway. Nothing important."

Leon nods before waving and walking into the warmth of the library. It is as empty as last week, which Leon prefers. He goes to his usual spot, noticing the yellow post-it on top of his table. Leon rushes to grab it and read. It is written in the same blue ink as before.

"Just wanted to wish you a good week. I admire you from afar, hoping you achieve all your goals!"

Leon's first reaction is to look for you, show you the new note, and believe again this is a mistake. But then he ponders, his curiosity speaking louder. No, he isn't interested in romance, nor does he have time for it. But, if those notes are really, really meant for him, why? He isn't that special or someone who should have secret admirers. Leon has always been curious, so he places the note in his pocket.

In the weeks following, he ends up receiving more and more notes. They are on top of his desk, under the desk, near the wall, always visible so he can find them. And since the first two ones, they have started to come signed with "Your Secret Admirer." It can't just be a coincidence at this point.

"You are doing amazing, and I hope you continue to do so! - Your secret admirer."

"I wish I could say how much I admire you to your adorable face! - Your secret admirer."

"It makes me so happy to see you pursuing your dream; it gives me the courage to pursue mine! - Your secret admirer."

"One of these days, I will gather the courage to invite you out, but until then, I keep thinking about you as I look at the stars."

Leon's suspicions are towards someone inside the library, of course. His first thought is you, but it simply can't be. You are too bright, too cute, too funny for him. Deep down, Leon wishes it was you; he might have harbored a tiny crush on you since the first time you helped him, but he knows it can't be. His other suspicions are the other people in the library, but he barely knows them, except for an eventual nod or "hello" here and there.

It is finally time for the first week of exams, and the library is getting crowded. Leon arrives earlier that Friday and, for a miracle, can find his spot empty and, sadly, no note this time. He tries not to concentrate on his disappointment, focusing on his studies when, in the corner of his eyes, he comes into the corridor. You look dressed for a freezing winter, rushing toward Leon with something in your hands. When you see him, you stop in your tracks, your eyes slightly going wide. Then you turn around, leaving in the other direction.

Much later that night, Leon walks to the front desk. You look busy but still manage to give him a tired smile.

"Getting crazy over here, huh."

"Yeah. It is time for the tests, so people can go a little crazy." You explain, shrugging. You look anxious, but Leon presumes it relates to the agitated week. "Hey, do you mhm like pumpkin chocolate brownies?"

"Sure?" Leon's stomach grumbles as you pull out something from your drawer. He hadn't had something to eat since he came to the library three hours ago. Two small pumpkin chocolate brownies, probably from the candy shop near the campus. "Thanks, I haven't eaten anything today."

"Just don't eat here, okay?" You wink, smiling.

Leon holds them, staring at your table as you return your attention to your work. A pile of books is nearby and more on the other side of the table. His attention is drawn to a small yellow paper folded so many times. He gathers his courage and opens his mouth to finally ask you what he has been dying to ask you this whole time.

"Hey, is it you my—?"

"Excuse me, can you help me find this book?" A female student calls your attention, interrupting Leon. You didn't seem to have heard anything, Leon asked, excusing yourself to help the stressed lady.

Leon watches his surroundings. He shouldn't think about that, but his body works faster than his mind. Leon grabs the yellow folded paper and runs away without looking back, his whole face red. Did he just steal something?

When he is out of the library range, he stops near a street light and frantically opens the post-it, his hands shaking, not due to the cold. Could it be you? Could it be really you? Leon reads it once. Then twice.

"Hey, I know you have been studying so hard. Here, have some pumpkin chocolate brownies to sweeten your night and give you some luck for the tests!- Your Secret Admirer."

So, it is you. Leon re-reads the sentence over and over again, thinking of different possibilities. It could have been an accident, right? Someone else could have brownies for him, some other secret admirer. But so specific like that?

"Stop. You are overreacting." Leon whispers to himself, placing the note in his jacket pocket. He looks back towards the library, half of him demanding for him to go back in there and face you. Wasn't Leon that wanted to have been you this whole time? Keeping all the notes even though they might not be for him? Wasn't he even considering opening an exception for this rule just because of you?

Leon will make a decision. Not tonight, no. Tonight, he will enjoy the feeling of knowing you are his secret admirer.

Two weeks pass, and you don't see Leon. You wonder where he is since the last time he almost caught you placing the brownies and the note on his desk. You should have known he would arrive earlier since Leon has been so responsible about his studies (something you admired about him). Not coming for two weeks? You wonder if he was sick. Or maybe Leon chose to study in his dorm since the library had been so crowded lately.

After helping an agitated first-year who couldn't find a Math book, you walk back to your table and find a Pumpkin bookmark there. You turn it around, finding a sentence in beautiful handwriting: "Some say Autumn isn't the season of love, but I disagree when I have Fallen for you. - Your Not-So-Secret-Admirer?"

You feel your cheeks heating up, immediately thinking about Leon and finding him right before you, his entire face red as a tomato. You open your mouth and close it, unsure what to say.

"Sorry. I hope that didn't scare you."

"N-no! You didn't!" You reply loud enough to get some "sshhh." You shut your mouth, looking apologetic towards Leon, who smiles.

"Would you like to go out with me? There is a harvest fair nearby, and I was wondering if we could..."

"I would love to." You rush to answer, whispering. "If I don't disturb your studies, of course."

"Nope, not a problem."

Some might say nothing grows during Autumn. The leaves fall as the plants prepare for another winter until spring gives them life again, and the cycle repeats. Well, some things can bloom during Autumn, as Leon Kennedy's smile to you is enough proof of that.

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delusionally-loveless-by-choice · 6 months

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Random Bo Sinclair Headcanons!!

authors' note: these are def just personally influenced, and if im being honest this was in my drafts for like.. a year and a half I think, and well I wrote it in the dead of night and was emotional and delirious. anyway, if u like any of these or wanna discuss his pass leave a note or reblog!!

Bo likes reading—mostly nonfiction but he has read a good amount of fiction when he gets his greasy hands on them. He needs glasses to read sometimes. reads when he isn't busy, andusually is before before (if he isn't drunk lol)

He likes to sketch—in his childhood Vince was the artist, just naturally good at it. His parents hoped Bo could have an artistic talent as well, but soon gave up when they realized he was too much to handle. Bo always liked to randomly doodle when he got bored. Likes to doodle whatever he can, in his youth it was usually just funny sketches of people that he'd make fun of

Has a great ass singing voice—first heard him humming in the garage to some song. Later that day after Bo n u got a couple of beers down, the music was low and playing and you heard him just belt it out. Sure it mostly comes out when he’s drunk but gad damn . You just egg him on because you need more bo singing voice.

He likes a lot of alt music. Loud shit. Metal. Rock. Etc. But he’s also secretly into classic romantic shit., (to me personally just the vibe of romantic older music, but im bad w names so like idk songs like put your head on my shoulder dunno)

He has like only three different caps that he circulates through. Theyre all dirty so help him out here, gift him a new one or help him wash them bec them caps are dirty as shi

He just has stickers and he puts them almost everywhere. In certain spots on the truck, in the garage, on his tool box case, etc. Some are from the people he and his brother catch, and others are ones he's gotten on his own over time (there's a sticker in his truck that is most definitely a hello kitty sticker, he denies it was him but he stuck it on when he was plastered and is unable to rip the sticker off its place)

Never learned how to ride a bicycle. Him and his brothers not having the best upbringing, they never really got those bonding moments. I imagine one day after finding a bicycle, and assuming you know how to ride one, he just looks at you as if you discovered a new planet. he never considered that other people knew how to ride those things. So surprised and impressed. He wont ask you to teach him so you kinda have to like coax him to try it. Would definitely get frustrated. I also imagine that if theres a possibility of kids, and he sees you teaching them how to ride a bike he would definitely be holding back tears when he sees you teaching them how to ride a bike (he'll join in bec he wants to learn too but he'd just stand on the side until you tell him to try it)

loll I edited them but I wrote these so long ago and many are def jus self-indulgent . fucj it they head canons for a reason ;)

#dlbc~🤍#bo sinclair #bo sinclair/reader #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair fanfic #house of wax 2005 #house of wax #bo sinclair headcanons #bo sinclair house of wax

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delusionally-loveless-by-choice · 6 months

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LIVE ACTION PHILLIP GRAVES !!!

these are from @/loneghostwolf88 on twitter 🫶

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delusionally-loveless-by-choice · 6 months

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Lost in a Cornfield..? Pt. 3

Scarecrow!Phillip Graves x Lost!Reader

summary: Terror fills you as you wonder what's next.. what is he going to do?

warnings: descriptions of like skin stuff (not too bad imo?? still warning), he lowkey a freak as in a sadist, screaming crying and general fear concepts, he dark but no super overall descriptions of it, nothin really happens sorry lol

w/c; 1k

Part 1, Part 2

Author's note: Midterms were ass, anyway here's part 3 hope it isn't a total flop. it's short but I hope to make part 4 soon the final part and a bit longer than this (hopefully).

The foul stench hung in the room.

It was a salty, iron-like pungent odor.

Much like sweat and blood.

But there was no blood here, it was all long dried.

You inhale a large breath of the warm air.

The oxygen hits your brain and--What the actual fuck--your head is reeling with the sudden reality.

You feel the tears start to drop and they fall steadily as the feeling of dread fills your senses.

The room. The skin. Him. The Scarecrow

It’s almost like he can hear your thoughts, but it’s more likely he’s seen the same reaction you're countless times.

He’s seen it on the poor souls that were unlucky enough to see the very room you were seeing now.

However, they were soon added to the collection in the room.

“Don’t ya like it, darlin’?” he asks mockingly.

He hasn’t moved from his spot at the door. Instead he’s relishing in the moment.

Drinking up your reaction; every breath, every hitch in your throat, every cry, every tear that seeps from you.

But you stand rooted to your spot in the middle of the room. Too scared to move. Too scared to speak.

Finally words don’t fail you, and something coherent is able to form out of your quivering lips, “What’s going on…” a sob interrupts you, and stupidly you continue in order to ask, “what is this..”

The only response he gives you is an amused drag of his white teeth on his bottom lip before he gives you that same charming and alluring grin.

“Scarecrow.. Please…” you sobbed out.

Hot tears streamed down your face.

Almost seeming never ending; a beautiful river that showcases your fear and desperation.

He loved every second of it.

His grin never falters, you aren’t even sure if he can feel any human feeling but if he could, you’re sure he’d feel something akin to a wild childish glee. His glowing eyes burning in the low light being proof of how much he was enjoying this.

"‘What's going on’, hmm?" He echos your question, his tone was almost playful.

“Oh, c’mon, sugar. Ya don’t really need me to spell it out for ya’, right?” He chuckles out dripping with condescension.

His words make a loud cry escape from you.

A sob wracks through you as you slowly start to back up, the implication of his response makes your worst fears come true.

You bump into something and stumble backwards, your hand instinctively reaching out to keep you from falling, all without looking away from the scarecrow.

But upon touching the object, you rip your eyes away from him and to where your grip is.

It’s a couch made of human skin.

You can see the details of someone, what was them, probably what was their hand stitched with another unidentifiable pieces of skin that probably wasn’t theirs due to the different colors the patches were. Pieces of hair poked out from the inside. It was used for cushioning.

Shock makes your reaction delayed. But it doesn’t take a second longer for your scream to erupt.

Tearing your hand and eyes from the couch, and back to the Scarecrow, you drop to the floor and crawl until your head and back harshly hit the wall.

You didn’t even want to think about how the wallpaper was also the remnants of people sewn together.

The only thing that spills from your lips are cries and begs, “No, no, no, no, no.. please.. don’t do this..”

He still stands at the threshold drinking up your delightful screams, sobs, and begs. With a deep breath he finally starts to walk toward you.

Every thump of his worn boots on the floor makes your heart jump and await the worse.

The fear makes you want to look away from his yellow eyes, but you can’t, and in return you see how his eyes never leave you.

He slowly stalks closer, his beautiful smile gleaming horrifically. The corners of his smile making boyish dimples show and his eyes crinkle prettily.

"What's the matter, doll?" His tone is the same sweet and southern honeyed voice he had first spoken to you with.

The same voice that made you believe he was safe, the same voice that made you believe he was going to help you, the same one that made you trust him.

Finally he stands before you.

He kneels down to your level, his head tilting as he watches your horrified fearful face.

You sit there paralyzed and you believe he's going to hurt you.

When his hand reaches out to you, you shut your eyes and flinch, waiting for the worse.

But instead, he wipes a tear away from your cheek.

His touch is gentle.

Still paralyzed with fear, your eyes open wide and though you feel fearful, you look at him.

“You look beautiful with tears runnin’ down your face.” He whispers just loud enough.

“Such a pretty lil’ thin’.'' His grin melts into a smile, it looks kind and sincere but the glint in his eyes warned you that there was still danger.

“Please don’t kill me..” you croaked out, “I thought you were going to help me.. please I didn’t.. i..” you sobbed harder.

“I’m scared..” you mustered between sobs as his hand wiped the rest of your tears.

“You should be,” he finally says and his warm breath fans on your face, “but I’m not gonna kill ya..”

“Pretty lil’ thin’ like you dead would be such a waste to put in ‘ere, plus ya aren’t a pest like the rest of ‘em.” His hand moves from your cheek to your head, running it through your hair, his fingers tangling between the strands.

“No… no, ya aren’t like them pests..” he mutters as he looks you over.

You don’t know what to say. You don’t know what to do other than watch him with your terrified wide eyes.

His breathing seemed almost strained and he looked like he was restraining himself.

“No, you’re mine, sweetheart.” he shakily breathed out.

Author note: also i have the ending done.. I just have to tie it in with this. (fun fact; I originally didn't plan to keep the darktwist, I had him as actually really sweet and very wizard of oz esque. but this dark scarecrow graves grew on me bec yes he spooky :')

taglist; @itsyellow (added them cus they asked to b tagged also ily)

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delusionally-loveless-by-choice · 7 months

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OMG I JUST READ YOUR SCARECROW GRAVES AND OMG I NEED MORE ITS SO GOOD PLEASE I LOVE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

NO PRESSURE THOUGH!!!! DONT GET BURNED OUT!!!!!!

ILY ANON!!🫶🫶🫶

Announcement thing:

I do plan on writing 1-2 more parts before closing the fic,

I hope to write and post it by next week bec im focusing on midterms rn😭😭

I think a lot of ppl liked the horror twist so im gonna keep dark graves bec i love him beinv evil 😚😚

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delusionally-loveless-by-choice · 7 months

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Masterlist

(the few and silly little works I've done)

Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 (2023):

Phillip Graves:

Lost in a Cornfield..? part 1 - 1k part 2 - 2k part 3 - 1k part 4 coming soon (before the end of oct!!)

House of Wax (2005) Bo Sinclair

"Because I love you" - angsty one-shot

random bo sinclair headcanons

old works after the cut - won't write for these at the moment

Scream (1996)

Billy & Stu

Billy and Stu trying Mexican Tamarindo candy (Headcanon/drabble)

The Sandman (2022) Morpheus

When All Hell Broke Loose - part 1, part 2, [discontinued]

Desire

very short ask drabble (not good lol)

The Batman (2022) Edward Nashton

He lulls you to sleep (headcanon)

#dlbc~🤍#masterlist #its shitty #I only really like three of the works I've done #the rest I forgot I made lol

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delusionally-loveless-by-choice · 7 months

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Lost in a cornfield..? Pt2

Scarecrow!Phillip Graves x Lost!Reader

summary: You learn a bit more about Mr. Scarecrow! There's something he wants to show you? What can that be?

warnings: horror aspects coming in later in the chapter >:), mention of blood, likely incorrect depictions/references to wrong periods because I forgot that light bulbs weren't invented until like 1879 (googled it), he kinda turns dark so big contrast to the first part loll

w/c - 2k

Part 1, Part 3

Author's note: its ass and its got a part 2 :)) also on ao3 under Phillip graves tag. also I know this is not a Phillip graves gif, I just wanted something to fill in so I might change it later

Oh, God, what hell is this place? You can’t help the horrified look that sits on your face, it’s paralyzing and a moment of vulnerability.

One that the scarecrow catches.

He stares at you, watching the realization finally sink into you, and he can’t help the grin that stretches on his face as he watches your expression.

He sighs, clearly amused. “I don’t just protect this ‘cornfield’. In all honesty, this land is strange compared to the one you know.” His tone was matter of factly, “I’m a guardian of sorts, one that is bound to serve it. It’s more work than it sounds, but this job isn’t really my choice, more of a burden and purpose, y'know.”

“This land.. It’s dangerous.” He makes sure to face you directly as he says this, you can feel the intensity of his tone. “There are things in the field that would do anything in its power to take advantage of your vulnerability. It also doesn't help that you’re their favorite meal: human.” He says the last part with an air of amusement; and though he’s looking at you, the way his straw hat is tilted, it hides a clear view of his eyes.

His response doesn’t help your wariness.

The scarecrow seems to take note of this.

He then says, “But I’m not gonna let that happen.”

You nod and exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Well that’s reassuring.” You nervously chuckle. But it’s only slightly reassuring to your instincts that tell you that this field, this place, is more than dangerous.

"Just remember: this place has its creatures, but it has me too." He pauses, then adds: "I've lived here ever since I was a kid, so I know every nook and cranny of the field. Ain't no pest that's gonna sneak past me."

You see something move further within the corn. Graves snaps his fingers, and the plants rustle to block a pathway. "If we head left, we'll bypass these critters."

“Did.. did you just control the field..?” You ask bewildered.

"Yes... The corn is a living, breathing organism. I can influence its growth and motion to an extent. The plants listen to my will." The scarecrow replies simply.

He pauses, and grabs your wrist to make you look at him. "Don't worry. The field is friendly to me--I grew up here, after all."

You look up at him, you finally get a look at eyes. They were blue but there was a yellow haze that slightly glowed further reminding you he was far from human. Whatever he was, he was terrifyingly beautiful, in the sense that you didn’t know what he was. Perhaps he was just a true eldritch horror.

He pulls you along to walk after him.

No, he can’t be that.. Those are monsters after all.. and he’s a guardian, not a monster! You reassure yourself.

As you think and walk, you are reminded of his presence by the yellow haze of his eyes glancing toward you. He lazily turns his head away from you.

You can’t help but ask him, “How.. old are you, Scarecrow..?” this curious whisper of yours makes his ears perk.

He takes a minute to respond, as if he was thinking.

“I’ve been around for about… two-hundred and thirty years, or so.” He finally replies. “Thankfully my age and good looks don’t seem to go hand in hand,” he chuckles.

The scarecrow smiles, then adds: "I'm proud that I've kept this place safe for so long--doing my duty, serving my purpose."

You don’t do much to mask your surprise.

“Oh, that’s.. a long time..” You muttered.

Both of you walk for a bit, before you decide to speak again.

“Uh.. so is there ever an end to this field? Or where are we going?” You asked, it wasn’t in an irritated tone but it sounded so.

He let out a short dry chuckle. “Sort of.. the best you're getting for an exit or end here is the house.”

Finally with a smooth swift gesture with his hand, the corn in front of the both of you opens up.

There then lies a large acre of land, one that wasn’t infested with the corn. Though it was surrounded by the endless crop, in the middle sat a farmhouse.

It looked abandoned. A home that hadn’t taken up well with time.

The white paint was peeling, the wood of the home looked rotten. One storm, and the house is reduced to nothing.

Yet, there the home stood.

As he walked towards it without a second thought, you were gagged.

Oh fuck, you distastefully think, but if he said it’s “a way out”.. Guess I shouldn’t judge..

“Follow me, this big ol’ thing has too many hidden entrances and exits.. I’ll take you through the safest.” he gestured for you to follow him as he made his way to the back of the farmhouse.

You politely nod and follow him, trying to mask the faces you make at the house.

He turns around to face you, walking backwards as he proudly says, “This beauty is the safest place to escape to in the fields.”

You smile at his pride, it's admirable and slightly adorable with that grin he has on.

Though, as you look at him, your eyes trail down to his left side. On his waist, his flannel shirt adorns a large red stain.

You grab him by the arm and make him stop walking. A worried face plastered on, you ask, “A-Are you bleeding? Oh God..!”

"Huh? Oh, this?" The scarecrow asks, looking down at the stain, he seems unconcerned by your discovery of blood on him. "It's nothing, just old blood. I've been hurt in these fields many times before, and I've made it out alive."

“But this blood, it ain’t mine, darlin’,” he says with a sheepish grin. Almost like he’s trying to reassure you. But it seems to do the opposite, until you remember the encounter you two had earlier with that critter, as he calls them.

“Oh..” you mumbled.

He gently pried your hand off of his arm, and started walking again. This time he directly leads you to the entrance he was talking about.

There are weeds, and junk, and rotten pieces of wood lying around. Then finally, there is a shitty little “door” that looks more like someone tried to board a window up instead of a door.

He unhooks the latch and pries open the door.

A wave of dust and spiderwebs go flying, and inside there lies only darkness.

“C’mon, let’s head in.. there’s something I wanna show ya..” he says excitedly.

You watch him duck and make his way in, and it doesn’t take longer than three seconds for you to follow after him in fear of being left behind.

It seems it was a basement of sorts that you entered through. It was dark so it was hard to see, but his blue eyes held that yellow glow that seemed to be all he needed to see.

He walked up some stairs and unlocked a door, one that presumably led to the main level of the farmhouse.

“This way!” he called over to you.

You followed him deeper into the farmhouse.

He was slightly more ahead of you, solely because you were simultaneously looking around at the inside of the farmhouse.

In the main level of the home, there was some light shining from the orange hued sun outside that came in from the boarded up windows.

The house smelled of wet wood and dust. Not surprising.

What was slightly surprising was the furniture and general state of the home. The furniture looked so old.. very 1790. If the home was well taken care of maybe the entire place would seem homely.

Instead it felt haunted.

Not innately sinister, but just abandoned. By the owners and time.

You finished looking and turned a corner to find him.

He stood at another staircase, holding his straw hat.

This one clearly led to the second story.

“All done?” he asked with a grin as he set the hat on the railing of the staircase.

“Guess so..” You mumbled and grumbled. “I thought you were taking me out of this place, not deeper into it. This farmhouse is probably dead in the center of this place with all the endless cornfield surrounding it!”

“In time,” he quickly says, “right now it’s best that you’re here. The farmhouse,” he pouts his lips in a manner that makes it seem like he’s picking his words wisely, “has its own set of.. securities.”

His eyes make it back to yours, and before you can answer he speaks again. “Now you ready for what I wanna show you?” he asked with a grin.

It was charming and alluring; his pearly fangs poking out and dimples on display.

It was enough to make any thoughts, defenses, and protests you had melt away.

You find yourself rolling your eyes and smiling back at him.

“Alright.. what do you want to show me?” you finally ask with a raised brow.

“Jus’.. follow me.. It ain’t something I show to just anyone..” he says as he turns and starts to make his way up the stairs.

As you follow him up the stairs, he walks down a hallway, it’s not very well lit.

You see the shitty discolored floral wallpaper that was definitely put up later in the owners residency from 1790. Behind the wallpaper you see the cracked walls and rotten wood that somehow surpassed the weird time.

Even in the shitty lighting you make out pictures that are hung up on the wall.

They show a family, a big one.

One that probably lived in the house at some point and were the last known occupants before it turned into whatever it was now.

“Was this your family?” You ask him.

He only hums, and you take that as all the confirmation you were gonna get.

You tear your eyes away from the wall and see him standing at the last door of the hallway.

It was especially dark, and for some reason you felt your body start to feel like it wanted to run.

“C’mere, in here.” he says with that same charming grin, it makes you want to trust him even when your body is starting to vibrate with the urge to run.

He goes to open the door, and of course it creaks when it opens, it’s an old ass house.

And of course the inside is dark as shit, there’s no electricity, the house is from the near 1800s.

“After you,” his charming southern accent rings like sweet honey, and you walk right into the room.

He of course follows right after you and shuts the door behind him.

The bit of light that shone from the hallway disappeared.

The sound of the door closing, the consumption of the room in darkness, and the click of the door being locked, cause you to turn around in the now dark to face the direction for which you think he is in.

The darkness doesn’t last, with a snap of his finger candles are set and the room is illuminated in a dim light.

Finally you get a good look at the room.

It’s small, and it smelled putrid.

You saw that the boarded up windows had curtains, but the material wasn’t cloth.

“What is..” you trailed off as the slow realization creeped in.

It was skin.

Human skin.

Your head reeled, you turned and saw that the rest of the room was adorned in furniture that was also made up of patches and pieces of skin stitched together.

Your eyes wide, they searched desperately around the room but were only met with skin.

It covered every surface.

The floor, the walls, the furniture.

It was all human skin.

There were even a few faces stitched into the wall and ceiling, portraits that blended into the wall.

Confused teary eyes wildly looked around the room.

You whipped around to find the scarecrow. He stood right where he had been, leaning on the locked door, the same grin plastered on his face.

This time it did nothing to ease you. Instead it felt sinister, taunting.

Your trembling lips try to say something but your voice dies in your throat.

Finally that southern voice you had some to familiarize yourself with spoke, his tone sickeningly sweet and that yellow hue in his eyes burned like the candles that lit the room, “What ya think? Beautiful, right darlin’?.”

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