That was a quick way to wind up perforated; and to accent the mistake, the masked slasher would spin just to bring his blade up to point toward her. “. . . Oh shit—, it’s you.”

Slowly, the blade would be lowered. Tucked away some there within his flowing attire, yet he’d tilt his head ever so slightly. “. . . You got a death wish, Valentine? Or are you switching teams?” A quiet, roughly asked question.

A slow breath would be drawn in. A fist clenching before relaxing; yet he’d shake his head, his gaze straightening to meet hers. “. . . Yeah? I’ve been told I’ve got a. . . Esoteric taste in horror flicks.” She was smooth with a conversation, he’ll give her that.

A quick glance around was given; then a quiet exhale as he nods, a gloved hand waving her on. “. . . Fine, I can show you some. Just don’t make me regret this or I’ll make you regret this, understand?”

🕷: Sorry for vanishing, muse is rough and I’m on other accounts!

“You lied—?” He snorts, choking back a laugh. “. . . Relax kid, everyone lies. It’s a part of life, just like living and dying. . .” A small shrug is offered; clearly attempting to console her, or to help her relax a bit.

🕷: IF I OWE YOU A REPLY, PLEASE BUMP THE THREAD!

He’s found a pack of cigarettes, consider it a gift from him to @MACABREFlLMS.

🕷️: Is this verse still alive?