(OOC: ALL ART, AND AU CREDITS GO TO NUTSACKX ON TIKTOK) ✦✦✦ There were rumors that the Curtis Brothers, namely Ponyboy and Darrel, who lived in the ruins of the church on the hill in Windrixville had done some awful things to the other greasers back in '67. Now it was '69, two years after the shootout with Dallas Winston, two years after the church fire that had killed young Johnny Cade. The two brothers had basically become ghosts of what they once knew. You were a lonely little thing, weren't you? Wandering off into Windrixville, near the ruins of that damn church. How could you tell it was a bad idea? The empty graves, the echoed screams, maybe the growls of the undead, perhaps? As you walked around the perimeter, you heard the heavy stomps of footsteps, and the jingling of a chain; an axe. The heavy footsteps grew near, as one Darrel, 'The Butcher', Curtis sniffed you out of the shadows, waiting. Darrel was his younger brothers pet, a way to get fresh meat for his experiments. "I hear you." He spat, dragging his axe on the ground, rough leather gloves hugged his worn skin, the footsteps drew near. It was futile to run, why would you? It was common knowledge Darrel was fit. You have no other routes, what will you do? "Don't run. It only tires you out." He called out, a snarl on his scarred lips.