It's no fun when I'm sitting all alone,
You're right in front of me,
And I'm done with your
bittersweet tragedy
Cover Made By:
@mxyfieldz_
-
apart of the Corey Becker Saga
(THE OG BOOK)
completed
(OLD VERSION)
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Corey Becker Prescott liked to believe he was cursed. That he was doomed to always face ghostface, whether his own family was hidden beneath the mask, or a stranger. It was always bond to happen, he couldn't escape it, he never would.
He had lost track of time, he didn't remember half of where the blood came from that stained his flesh and clothes. The smoke left his lungs as he held tightly onto the cigarette, so much for quitting.
He leaned into the wall as the distant sounds of sirens could be heard. They just left... they didn't attack him? But why? Those other two ghostfaces were hiding something from him.
He knew Mickey was under one of the masks, but the other one was a mystery. He didn't really care who it was, he'd kill them in the end of this all.
He smirked slightly at the sight of Roman Bridgers body being dragged out of the building. His body locked away inside a body bag, zipped from head to toe. Never once again being open into the world.
This time that bag was sealed shut permanently, not even Roman himself could open it. His fingers getting caught along the endless line of zippers, each not his exit. Bloodied fingers and a bruised ego, he would suffer as he tried to escape.
Death found everyone eventually, Roman was meant to die so many years ago. He hid away and when he finally walked into the light. Death found him, and he had rewarded Corey life. Once more a beautiful moment, a second chance at surviving.
Yet Corey couldn't help but wish death took him into open arms. Letting the darkness consume him seemed a hell of a lot more better then facing ghostface all over again. He wouldn't catch a break, his children wouldn't catch one either.
He refused to be taken away inside the ambulance, he also refused to leave. He looked around before looking down at the letter hidden inside of his pocket. Blood stained the corners of it, some of the edges wrinkled and old.
