[Voice] with a side of [Location: Speares] The pen is blue

[slasher-slayer.livejournal.com]

[Cassie sits out on a park bench, watching the extras mingle, their murmured nonsense faint. Her tablet is in one hand, the stylus in the other. She scribbles in an absentminded fashion, humming some Nine Inch Nails to herself quietly. She taps the tip of the stylus to the outer side of the screen, switching out the colors.]



[When Cassie finishes, she sighs, her chest aching a little. Damn this glitch, causing words to bubble up that she would never tell another soul.]

When I die, I'm afraid I'm going to come back as one of the things that I hunt.

I'm afraid I'm going to end up like my mom.

Comments

[voice]

[slasher-slayer.livejournal.com]

Doesn't matter. The past couple years before I came here...I was fucking swimming in blood. I kill each of those bastards and they keep coming. I got all this rage and hate inside me. For being ridiculed as a kid. For being a freak. For what I've dealt with and I'm perfect to be the next fucking slasher.

[voice]

[glowingseer.livejournal.com]

Now I'm beginning to think that it's a good thing you're stuck here. I mean maybe you'll have time to sort things out - like that hate and rage.

[voice]

[slasher-slayer.livejournal.com]

There is no 'sorting it out', Chase. Whether I'm here for three months or three years.

It's not gonna change. I'm not gonna change.

[voice]

[glowingseer.livejournal.com]

You're just too negative.

[voice]

[slasher-slayer.livejournal.com]

Never said the sun shined out of my ass, did I, Chase?

I'm being realistic.

[voice]

[glowingseer.livejournal.com]

Lovely imagery.

[voice]

[slasher-slayer.livejournal.com]

I can certainly paint a picture.

[That little doodle of her killing a random slasher not withstanding.]