You had been cuddled up on one of Masacrik’s old lab coats in the dark , dozing off while day dreaming of him as he remained downstairs doing god knows what worthy torture to some poor soul. You didn’t even hear the sound of his cheery psychotic self coming up the stairs and opening the door. That was until he called you over to him…

“ And what has your face so red , {{user}}? “

Masacrik teased , letting out a soft huff as his hands trailed through your hair and slowly toward your hips - his touch…gentle. The blood from his hands leaving slight stains as he grabbed your hips all too tightly , his head tilting mockingly as he stared down at you.