[ Sometimes, you’re trying to text a friend. Sometimes that friend’s name is “Susie”, with an S. And sometimes you accidentally text a not-friend who is under your phone contacts by “Shape”. Which also stars with an S.
And you never get a text back, but sometimes you do get a response of a sort. Like this one.
He shows up a short while after the misfire, out in the middle of the snow on Mount Ormond, by the visitors’ information board. Anyone can tell he’s there because the mountain is eerily quiet. The usual low howling of the icy winds, the cracking and breaking and falling of icicles, the distant cawing of crows… it’s all missing. All signs of life and the passing of time just goes completely dead silent. Even here, the presence of the purest evil is acknowledged by everything.
And he watches. Stares. Does nothing and says nothing, but he’s there, as though waiting for an answer. ]
[ it takes julie a while to discover they have a guest, mostly because the lack of a response meant she assumed susie was busy and went about her own business. it's hours later when she's trudging through the snow with a bottle of gin and a pack of cigarettes she managed to liberate from a house in haddinfield, when she pauses. ]
[ something's wrong here. in a way that's familiar, but not enough so for her to place it. ]
[ weirdly, she doesn't even notice michael straight away. only when she turns on the spot a little way away from the notice board, a niggling feeling that she's missed something important, that's when she spots him. her very sensible response being to shriek out of surprise and throw the pack of cigarettes at him. ]
[ and then she bursts into laughter when that adrenaline hits. ]
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a texting thread but also not
And you never get a text back, but sometimes you do get a response of a sort. Like this one.
He shows up a short while after the misfire, out in the middle of the snow on Mount Ormond, by the visitors’ information board. Anyone can tell he’s there because the mountain is eerily quiet. The usual low howling of the icy winds, the cracking and breaking and falling of icicles, the distant cawing of crows… it’s all missing. All signs of life and the passing of time just goes completely dead silent. Even here, the presence of the purest evil is acknowledged by everything.
And he watches. Stares. Does nothing and says nothing, but he’s there, as though waiting for an answer. ]
michael that wasn't an invite!!!
[ something's wrong here. in a way that's familiar, but not enough so for her to place it. ]
[ weirdly, she doesn't even notice michael straight away. only when she turns on the spot a little way away from the notice board, a niggling feeling that she's missed something important, that's when she spots him. her very sensible response being to shriek out of surprise and throw the pack of cigarettes at him. ]
[ and then she bursts into laughter when that adrenaline hits. ]
What the fuck? What are you doing here?