--- terribleFate [TF] has uploaded a video --- FILE NAME: ON_MY_WAY.mp4 DURATION: 08:47 CONTENT WARNINGS: #Stalking #Voyeurism #Obsession #PsychologicalHorror #ImpliedViolence The video opens without an introduction. It's a recording of an indigo-blooded troll. Tevsie Kingly. https://youtu.be/TfOQzE1fqVo?si=OVe6s0lyYjopVzVA The video opens without an introduction. It's a recording of an indigo-blooded troll walking down a street on Colony XX5, carrying a plastic bag of takeout. Tevsie Kingly. Her posture is terrible, and she's looking down at her husktop, occasionally stopping to type with one hand while awkwardly adjusting the bag with the other. The camera follows her, not particularly close, not particularly far. There's something strange about the footage. It has the washed-out quality of a recording made on an old handheld device, and the microphone picks up the faint, intermittent sound of someone breathing. Tevsie turns a corner. The camera turns with her. Tevsie stops. The camera stops. She scratches her ass. "Christ." Anikah's voice, barely above a whisper. The recording goes black. The timestamp in the top left corner adjusts to four perigees ago. The date flashes across the screen for a moment before another recording begins. It's Tevsie again, this time visible through a window, standing inside her hive, talking animatedly to a camera of her own. She's wearing an indigo medical mask, her spiral glasses, and what appears to be an oversized shirt. Behind her is a chalkboard covered in diagrams concerning the structure of reality. The sound is muffled but comprehensible. "...the reality belt is actually quite flimsy!" The camera slowly zooms in. Tevsie begins discussing the significance of 4/13 and 6/12, occasionally pausing to wipe drool from beneath her mask. "She's been at this for twenty minutes," Anikah murmurs, sounding almost impressed. The footage skips forward. Tevsie is now gesturing wildly at an empty space on the chalkboard, talking about Lady Distance of the Vortex Menagerie. Anikah chuckles. "You're going to be so disappointed." Another skip. Tevsie is making a little heart with her fingers. The camera zooms in until the heart fills the entire frame, accompanied by the faint clicking sound of a photograph being taken. 3 Perigees and 3 wipes ago. The camera is positioned outside the same hive, with Tevsie's bedroom window visible. Inside, she's sitting among a collection of Squiddles, showing off a little indigo plush to her audience. Even through the window, a faint squeak can be heard. "Luna Marianne of the Descendants," Anikah repeats slowly, as if testing the name. "That's a mouthful." The camera moves slightly, revealing a handwritten note taped to its side. LUNA MARIANNE. FAVORITE. Below that, another entry reads ROSALIE LIKELYHOOD SIGHTSEE. FIGURINE. Another photograph is taken. Then another. The recording cuts. 3 Perigees Ago. Tevsie is walking through a shopping district, wearing the same spiral glasses, though a crack has developed across one lens. The camera is considerably closer this time. She stops outside a storefront and stares through the glass for a few seconds before moving on. Anikah follows. The next clip shows Tevsie sitting alone on a bench, eating something messily. Very messily. Anikah sighs. "Not jealous of your mediculler..." Tevsie wipes her mouth on her sleeve, prompting the camera to zoom in and a quiet laugh from its operator. "Adorable." The recording jumps forward several hours. Same bench. Tevsie is gone. The camera hasn't moved. Two Perigees Ago. The camera opens on an unfamiliar interior. Not Tevsie's hive. A wall covered in photographs, dozens upon dozens of them, arranged in a manner suggesting some deliberate chronological organization. Tevsie leaving her hive, Tevsie returning, Tevsie standing outside a convenience store, Tevsie eating, laughing, crying, wearing her glasses and without them. A screenshot of a Chittr post about her hallway extending half an inch is accompanied by the handwritten question MEASURED? Nearby is a photograph of the mouse-eared planchette her moirail carved, another of Tevsie in her black cultist robe and socks, a screenshot of her discussing the significance of the Furthest Ring, and a printed photograph of the Troll Siouxsie Sioux shirt she likes wearing. A little note reads FIVE PAIRS OF GLASSES. SIXTY MOONS. There's even a photograph of a box of enormous ammunition, beneath which someone has written TWELVE. WHY? The camera lingers on a photograph of Tevsie smiling. Her face is circled in red. "Poor little creature in her enclosure," Anikah says. There's a pause before she continues, "Doesn't even know I'm the one watching her." Another pause. "Actually, that's good. I'm posting that." A faint tapping sound follows, and the camera pans across the wall again. At the very bottom, in considerably older ink, is a photograph of Tevsie standing outside what appears to be a university building. The photograph is dated before any of the others. There is a knock at the door, the camera quickly shifts as East Beforan begins being shouted aloud, glowing lights blur the vision. One Perigee Ago. The footage is different now, unmistakably taken from Tevsie's own OnlyFans collaboration. The white silk nightgown, the feathered white robe, the bright, almost embarrassingly happy expression on Tevsie's face. "Hello! Miss Anikah wanted to join me tonight!" The clip freezes. Anikah's voice speaks over the still image. "Isn't she precious?" A click. The camera zooms toward Tevsie's smile. "Look at that. She thinks we just met." Another click, and the recording jumps to the end of the collaboration. Tevsie is injured, barely conscious, holding her fingers together in that familiar little heart. Anikah doesn't say anything for several seconds. Then, very quietly, "You have no idea how long I waited for you to do that for me." 3 Wipes Ago. Tevsie is inside her hive. The footage is grainy, recorded from a position that leaves a portion of the image obscured by what appears to be furniture. She's hunched over her desk, apparently editing something. Every few moments, she removes her glasses and rubs at her eyes. Her room is a mess, cluttered with fast food containers, old paperwork, and books stacked in arrangements that look structurally unsound. The indigo Squiddle is visible on a shelf. The camera remains perfectly still. From somewhere behind it, Anikah murmurs, "She doesn't clean." A pause. "I'll do it while she's out..." Tevsie suddenly looks toward the camera. Her expression changes, and for a moment she seems genuinely frightened. "Hello?" Silence follows. "Uhm... Is somebody there?" The camera doesn't move. Tevsie stares for another few seconds before turning back toward her husktop. "Good girl," Anikah whispers. The clip cuts. A Wipe Ago. A Chittr post appears on-screen: Tevsie's announcement concerning her upcoming collaboration with the Gore Whores from Girls Gone Deadeyed. Anikah's voice is quieter now. "Five?" There's a moment of silence before she begins listing names. "Kaynet. Laurdi. Phenom. Ginger. Slayin." Another pause. "Popular girls." The footage changes to Tevsie making preparations inside her hive. She's moving furniture, straightening things that cannot reasonably be straightened, looking remarkably nervous all the while. The camera watches her struggle to drag a box across the floor. "You're getting awfully ambitious." The recording accelerates, and Tevsie moves around her hive in a blur while the camera remains motionless. The room gradually gets darker. Eventually, Tevsie switches off the lights. The recording continues for another forty-three minutes. Nothing moves. Two Nights Ago. The screen shows Tevsie's post apologizing for a delayed video upload. She's spent a week in the mediculler. Anikah reads it aloud, then laughs. "It should have been me in there." The screen goes black. Tonight. Tevsie's latest video plays. Not the whole thing, just the aftermath. Bandages, an eyepatch, broken glasses, and the little speech about no longer being welcome at the hospital. The admission that she's afraid of love, of connection, of being seen as something real. The footage freezes when Tevsie says she only wants to be entertaining. Anikah's voice returns. "You are. Of course you are." A cursor moves across the screen. A familiar Chittr exchange appears, each message highlighted in turn. @terribleFate: I need you/ @autoClicker: Take me then ^_^ @terribleFate: On my way with my Camera/ The last message remains highlighted for an uncomfortable length of time. Anikah chuckles. "Funny thing about that." The video changes one final time. It's Tevsie's hive, and the camera is pointed at her front door. Nothing happens. For thirty seconds, there's only the ambient hum of the surrounding colony. Then Anikah speaks. "Four months. Four months of listening to you beg something unknowable to notice you. Four months of watching you dress up in your little robes, listening to your little sermons, watching you cry because some great cosmic horror hasn't come to collect its favorite little supplicant." The camera tilts slightly. "Four months of watching you ruin yourself for an audience that clicks a little button and forgets you exist five minutes later. Do you know how irritating that is?" A quiet, breathless laugh follows. "You're so desperate to be seen, Tevsie. So desperate to be wanted." There's a soft rustle and a brief pause. "Do you remember telling everyone your hallway got longer?" The camera slowly pans toward a window. The camera moves toward the door. "See, that's what makes this funny. Your address was public. You invited people to come cull you. You broadcast every pathetic little detail of your life to anyone willing to look. You told us what you liked. What you feared. What you wanted." There's another tapping noise. "And when I finally introduced myself, you were so happy." Anikah exhales. "Sweetheart. I didn't start watching you when you asked me to." A long pause. "I'm your biggest fan." The video cuts to black. For a moment, it seems finished. Then a final piece of footage appears. It's Tevsie. Not outside, and not through a window. She's asleep in her recuperacoon, curled into herself, her bandages barely visible above the rim. The recording is impossibly close, close enough to hear her breathing. The camera doesn't move. After several seconds, a little squeak breaks the silence. Luna Marianne. "Stay clickclickclicking," Anikah whispers, accompanied by a soft laugh. The video cuts forward one more time. Anikah's knocking on the door. Her gloves stained with the same castes was the women who'd just tortured her. --- END OF VIDEO --- #stalking #obsession #voyeurism #psychologicalhorror #foundfootage #XX5
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