slasher iii & slasher iv
oh geez oh boy oh god here it is. i had to strangle this thing out of my brain and she came out kicking and screaming. unedited, just some fun slasher iii & slasher iv content on this saturday evening. this is... something
there's a good bit of triggers in here, please proceed with caution.
1.15k words
The two of them are just hardcore horror fans, right? They've seen all the classics a million times but as they're getting older it's just not enough. III is the first one to suggest it as he turns off the television after watching the newest horror box office flop. At first, IV thought it was a joke. An outlandish suggestion to throw him off his game. That was the kind of jokester that III was. But there was no humor in his voice when he said in a sinisterly quiet voice.
"We could just do that shit ourselves."
The thought caused excitement to pulse through IV's veins as III laid out the details of his fantasy. It was almost too perfect, he thought. Their calculus professor was a piece of shit who was always too hard on the class, so he made an obvious target. He had no family, which further eased IV's conscience. They'd be doing the world a favor.
It was an experience unlike anything he'd ever experienced before, the thrill of watching the light wink out of his horrified eyes as he clawed at the masks covering their faces, watching the fight leave his body as he fell limp to the floor. He found he didn't quite mind the feeling of his blood soaked jeans clinging to his legs.
III had done most of the dirty work, but who was IV to deprive him of the joy he received from plunging the knife into his victim's stomach? They tidied. up after themselves enough to erase their presence, and waited for someone to find him.
The discovery of the beloved professor’s body the next day came as a shock to the whole community, leaving the town a worried mess. Things only got worse as III and IV selected their next target. She was a young woman, engaged to be married, known for babysitting just about every kid in town– the two of them included. IV’s stomach soured at the thought, but the grin on III’s face stirred his excitement enough to quell his conscience.
“Don’t worry mate, she’ll be perfect.” He clapped his friend on the shoulder and pulled him into his pickup truck, the bed loaded with enough hunting knives to butcher a stampede.
And perfect she was. They managed to slip into the garage undetected, slinking through the darkened hallways towards the illumination and chatter of the television in the living room. She had nodded off on the couch, her head tilted back and nestled into the corner, surrounded by blankets and pillows. III gave him a silent nod and IV walked around behind her, wrapping an arm around her neck and clamping his hand over her mouth. Her eyes shot open in fear, panic overtaking her body as her eyes raked down every intimidating inch of III as he knelt in front of her, sliding a knife out of his boot.
IV could feel her gnashing at the flesh of his palm, and simply pressed the crook of his elbow further into her jugular. He could feel her resolve dwindling as she thrashed against his hold, trying to shove III’s towering figure away from her. But III only laughed and swatted away her comparatively small hands as he began tracing the tip of his blade up her pajama clad leg, the twinkle in his eye indicated to IV that he was thoroughly enjoying the muffled whimpers coming from behind IV’s hand, relishing in the way that her body lurched away from him.
When IV felt his hand dampening from her tears, he audibly groaned, looking down to see her beautiful eyes squeezed shut, tears running down her cheeks. If his mask wasn’t covering his mouth he would have leaned down and licked those tears off of her perfect skin himself. But instead, he managed to catch III’s attention, nodding down to her streaming tears and III laughed evilly.
He leaned over her, wiping her tears away with his thumbs, gently caressing her cheeks as he did so, despite IV’s hands covering most of her face.
“Hey, no use for that,” III cooed. “No point of doing that at all, love.”
Her eyes opened, a bone-chilling fear shooting through her body as she saw the murderous glint in III’s eyes. The tears flowed faster, and as she tried again to break free III restrained her arms with ease, resting his body weight on top of her as he brought his knife up to her line of sight again.
“We’re going to have a lovely time, the three of us.”
She screamed from behind IV’s hand, making one last attempt to bite at him and managed to find purchase on the meat of his palm, causing him to yelp. She sank her teeth in until she could taste his blood on her tongue, but she found his grip only tightened. When she dared a glance above her, she could see his eyes shut, breathing labored, but when he looked down at her, she realized what a mistake she had made.
A mixture of her tears and IV’s blood dripped from her chin, and the sight sent a shockwave of excitement through III’s body. He was ecstatic to have a partner in all this, to get to experience his wildest fantasies with his best friend. To share this new side of him with his best friend.
“Now for the fun part.” He whispered, more to IV than to her, but the words caused her heart to sink, she felt the resolve fly from her body– there was no salvation for her. The coppery tang of his blood on her tongue that had once tasted like victory now tasted of defeat. Not only would she die at their hands, she would die with their repulsive presence invading her every sense.
III felt the familiar rush of euphoria as the blade pierced through her belly, her muffled scream like a favorite song heard on the radio. He didn’t miss the way IV’s hip pressed slightly into the couch, spreading a wide grin across his lips.
This would be the fun part, indeed.
Hours later, III laid down in his bed, resting an arm behind his head as he replayed the events of the day, that same grin still plastered on his face. He felt his eyes drifting closed, sleep ready to take his body when he heard the sound of his phone vibrating on his nightstand. His heart leaped at the sight of your name, and your sweet message.
i guess you turned in early tonight. sweet dreams, i love you <3
As he laid back down, his eyes falling shut one more time, his mind conjured up the most beautiful plan for you.
A special surprise.
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more of my oc tervis (any pronouns), the creepiest most miserable little weirdo in town. which is saying something [id under cut]
/ ID: four digital drawings.
The first image is a series of drawings of Tervis on a paper-textured background. A heading at the top reads 'Tervis (Humble)'. One is a coloured headshot of Tervis looking to the left; they have a gaunt face, short receding hair, a scar bisecting their lip and right eyebrow, greyish skin, and are wearing a red shawl around their neck. An arrow pointing at their right eye reads 'one blue eye (mostly blind)'; another arrow pointing at their left eye reads 'one brown eye'. They have a serious, hostile expression. The second drawing is an uncoloured full-body sketch of Tervis. Next to this is the same drawing but coloured and with more polished lineart. Tervis is a thin, hunched figure wearing a long, dark brown robe, a greyish bag on their back, and a red shawl around their head and neck. They are barefoot, and are leaning on a walking staff with both hands. An arrow pointing to the walking staff reads 'needed for walking, useful for hitting'. Tied to the belt around their waist are several long scrolls of paper with writing on them. An arrow pointing to the scrolls reads ''blessings' they paste on infected houses'. Tervis is looking warily out at the viewer from beneath their eyebrows. An arrow pointing to their head reads 'scar from getting hit in the face with a brick (also knocked out a tooth)'. Alongside these drawings are a series of bullet points giving information about Tervis. These read:
indeterminate age, indeterminate gender
religious fanatic (unclear which religion)
lives alone somewhere in the steppe
dislikes everyone but is nicer to children than anyone else
has every disease
The second image is a fake screenshot from the video game Pathologic. Tervis is looking out at the viewer; the background shows scenery from the steppe. The text on screen reads:
CHANGELING: I still don’t see what you could have done that would make you personally responsible for this plague.
TERVIS: Responsible… no, not merely responsible! This is my plague, cast upon my head alone. I am the originator; my sin is at the root of all. I have ventured into the town. I have seen the canker there. No matter how many houses I bless, my sickness sinks deeper. The rotted limb is the death of the body… Surely you understand me. You are a healer, are you not?
CHANGELING: What is it that you are asking me to do?
TERVIS: Let me be the lamb, worker of miracles! My blood shall wet the earth, and bright flowers shall grow… My putrefaction will provide the soil within which new life will burgeon, pure and free of sin and decay. Let it be done. I am ready. My failing flesh is but little sacrifice; in death my weakness will be my strength. Soon these torments will be at an end.
Below are two dialogue options:
You’re insane!
What makes you so sure your death would solve anything?
The third image is a fake screenshot from the video game Pathologic 2. Tervis is looking out at the viewer, and has been painted in semi-realistic style. The text on screen reads:
Tervis: Why do you force me to live? Damn you! Your cure is poison to me. Now I shall never be blessed. You should have left me to bleed.
Below are three dialogue options:
Don’t be absurd. I wasn’t going to watch you die.
What makes you think you deserve suffering?
I wish I had.
At the bottom of the image is a line of dialogue which Tervis has just spoken:
The air is foul. There is rot in this place. The stench of corruption shall be – what was it? What was it? The stench of corruption shall be… swept aside…
The fourth image is a coloured scene depicting Tervis and Clara. They are central in the composition; around them is the steppe, which has been rendered in a loose, painterly style. Tervis is kneeling, their walking staff cast aside, and are reaching out their hands to Clara in a desperate, pleading gesture. They are crying, their face contorted in an expression of agonised ecstasy. Clara stands beside them, one hand reaching out, the other held above Tervis’s head as though about to touch their brow. She has a solemn, pained expression. Behind her head, a break in the dark clouds gives the impression that she is haloed by sunlight; rays of the same light fall onto Tervis, illuminating their face and red robe. End ID. /
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