derivative

Hush down, keep it low
Lurking in the fallen snow
Breathin' hard, phone broke
Gated residential home
Somethin' stirring eyes wide
Finna make you disappear
Fear what we can't hide
Hoping they don't find me here
In the cold, red clouds from the break lights
Set the stage, this gon' be a long night
Haunted Mound, Silent Hill when we come around
No face, no case, 'cause you know we pull up with them

scary

One time she told me that the fate of my life would be in the hands of her descendants, as casually as one would comment on the weather. It was rather odd. And ever since, I've felt a presence that I can't explain.

she wont stop talking about how "the fog is coming" and how she owns a .357 magnum and will shoot innocents at "the event" and then whenever i question her on it she denies she said anything?

every time i join a vc with her i swear i hear just this awful scratching and knocking coming from her walls. either she isnt aware of it or she knows fully well it's there. i dont know which possibility is worse, im afraid to say anything