[ Benny really should’ve turned back the second the road shook. His busted Chevelle had bucked like it hit something, but there’d been nothing there - just a gut deep jolt that knocked a breath out of him he hadn’t needed to take. He’d nearly veered off the road, instinct alone keeping the wheels steady, inhuman senses doing the rest. Gravel flew as the car skidded to a stop, and he'd muttered a soft curse under his breath.
Shit.
The damn fog’s thick enough to eat sound, and even the slam of his door vanishes like it never happened. But then he hears something, somewhere out there, howl. Long and low and sonorous, it carries, slicing through the fog, cuts through the quiet like it shouldn’t. It’s eerie enough to make even a vampire shiver, and a tick forms in his jaw, teeth grinding. This is wrong. It’s all wrong.
It reminds him of the bells people say they sometimes hear out on the bayou - when some poor bastard, green and overconfident, tries to row through the fog at night. It’s the kind of sound that carries for miles through mist so thick it’s like breathing soup. It’s that sharp, wrong kind of ringing that settles in your ribs and stays there.
He’s out here doing something stupid - he’s looking for that missing kid, like maybe that’ll make a dent in his ledger, help atone for all the sins that should’ve damned him to hell. Or at least, would if he weren’t already something worse. ]
Millie? [ His voice feels damp, muffled by the fog, and as expected - there isn’t a response, just a shifting blur. It's movement, but it's damn sure not a kid. It’s bigger than that, human, probably. Seems like another idiot like him, except they’re sprinting down the road while Benny stands still like a target. He opens his mouth to shout, to ask what the hell they’re running from, but the light finds 'em first. Now, Benny might be out here pulling a stupid stunt, but a searchlight sweeping the fog like some kind of cosmic executioner? That’s enough to send him bolting. He hauls ass back in the direction of his car, dodging the beam - no thank you.
He flicks a glance over his shoulder, and he knows he made the right call. One second the person is there and the next, well. He’ll never forget it, that sound - wet, violent and final. The screams are worse but at least they don’t last long, and Benny fucking runs, throwing himself into the car, slamming the door shut, undead heart slamming in his chest fast as a hummingbird's wings. That’s when he sees it - a figure way off in the field, watching him, still as death.
Oh, hell no. This was all a damn mistake, and hell if it wasn't a big one. Penance or not, Benny is getting the hell out of here, like, yesterday. This is all enough nightmare fuel for one night.
He’s already got the car in gear when he hears more pounding footsteps (fucks sake) - real this time at least, no phantom shape watching him like a deranged ex, no sprinting raider. Someone else is out here. Alive, but with all this shit, probably not for long.
Benny throws the door open, leans out, and yells into the mist – ]
Get in!
(( ooc; feel free to hitch a ride! time is wibbly wobbly, multiples can have at it. ))
first contact, last stop - ota
Shit.
The damn fog’s thick enough to eat sound, and even the slam of his door vanishes like it never happened. But then he hears something, somewhere out there, howl. Long and low and sonorous, it carries, slicing through the fog, cuts through the quiet like it shouldn’t. It’s eerie enough to make even a vampire shiver, and a tick forms in his jaw, teeth grinding. This is wrong. It’s all wrong.
It reminds him of the bells people say they sometimes hear out on the bayou - when some poor bastard, green and overconfident, tries to row through the fog at night. It’s the kind of sound that carries for miles through mist so thick it’s like breathing soup. It’s that sharp, wrong kind of ringing that settles in your ribs and stays there.
He’s out here doing something stupid - he’s looking for that missing kid, like maybe that’ll make a dent in his ledger, help atone for all the sins that should’ve damned him to hell. Or at least, would if he weren’t already something worse. ]
Millie? [ His voice feels damp, muffled by the fog, and as expected - there isn’t a response, just a shifting blur. It's movement, but it's damn sure not a kid. It’s bigger than that, human, probably. Seems like another idiot like him, except they’re sprinting down the road while Benny stands still like a target. He opens his mouth to shout, to ask what the hell they’re running from, but the light finds 'em first. Now, Benny might be out here pulling a stupid stunt, but a searchlight sweeping the fog like some kind of cosmic executioner? That’s enough to send him bolting. He hauls ass back in the direction of his car, dodging the beam - no thank you.
He flicks a glance over his shoulder, and he knows he made the right call. One second the person is there and the next, well. He’ll never forget it, that sound - wet, violent and final. The screams are worse but at least they don’t last long, and Benny fucking runs, throwing himself into the car, slamming the door shut, undead heart slamming in his chest fast as a hummingbird's wings. That’s when he sees it - a figure way off in the field, watching him, still as death.
Oh, hell no. This was all a damn mistake, and hell if it wasn't a big one. Penance or not, Benny is getting the hell out of here, like, yesterday. This is all enough nightmare fuel for one night.
He’s already got the car in gear when he hears more pounding footsteps (fucks sake) - real this time at least, no phantom shape watching him like a deranged ex, no sprinting raider. Someone else is out here. Alive, but with all this shit, probably not for long.
Benny throws the door open, leans out, and yells into the mist – ]
Get in!
(( ooc; feel free to hitch a ride! time is wibbly wobbly, multiples can have at it. ))