WESTSIDE ; THE DEMONIC HORROR
INTERLUDE , PROLOGUE
❝ she's crazy though ,and i guess she took control . .❞♱
"THIS PARK IS SCARIER AT NIGHT. ."
Shivers ran down the duo's spine, their busted flashlights barely illuminating the light they so desperately desired. The crunches of fall leaves softly emitted from the group's shoes. The dead park's aura caused them to stick close to each other, almost like glue.
"Why did you think this was a good idea, bro," The noir-ette shuddered as she gazed over to one of her companions that when along side her. "Horror movies sound better, Y/N. ." The said girl, Y/N, glanced over at her friend who was obviously gripping her arm tighter in fear.
"I thought a trip down memory lane would be. . exciting?" Y/N cautiously scratched her cheek with her index. She honest never understood why this was a good idea. They were old enough to not be stopped by police and asked about curfew, but 3 o clock in the morning at their childhood park wasn't a safe place for two 18 year olds.
"Maybe if we came in the morning, but this is plain horrific. ." Y/N's friend hushed her voice. The fear of waking something or even someone up made her knees weak and breath heavy. She clutched Y/N's arm tighter, honestly Y/N feeling the sharp pain of her friend, Willow's nails, was barely felt; her fear adrenaline making her upper half go numb.
Y/N's eyes glanced around, seeing the swing set be cautiously moved by the wind. She emitted a gulp; the more she came closer, the more she payed attention to the sandbox right next to the squeaky swing set. Y/N raised her index finger and pointed over to the said sand box, perking up Willow immensely.
"There's something in the sand ," Y/N's voice still low, but perked up to get her point towards her friend that still was glued to Y/N's arms. "It's some sort of lettering." Willow squinted her eyes to get a better look at the wording. She let go of Y/N's arm and made her way over to the lettering. Y/N followed behind, kind of closely due to her uncomforted surroundings.
"Al...astorr, " Willow crouched down, butchering the name with a roll of the tongue. The name made Y/N perk up. She quickened her light footstep before crouching next to the noir colored hair girl. "Isn't he that serial killer you were talking about?" She questioned with a hint of fear in her tone. The name being written on the sand found in a time like this seemed to be like a horror movie prompt.
"Yeah; he was a host on some radio show back in the 1900's," Y/N informed. While talking, she unconsciously began to draw a star over his name. She had a habit of having some kind of job for her fingers to work on as she talked about things she had information on.
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