Why So Serious? My little halloween fun time.
John is scared. He can’t remember being this scared ever in his life. And seriously now, if anyone has had reason to be scared in their life, it’s John Watson.
He is petrified.
The throb of his heartbeat is almost painful in his throat, pounding in his temples, blood pulsing through his bound wrists and pooling in his crooked broken fingers. Adrenaline has ceased to thump through his veins and is now a low constant ebb. He has given up trying to see anything in the pitch black and closed his eyes, trying to sharpen any senses he can use.
The sweet smell of his own sweat is heavy in the air. There is a rustle from behind and a waft of new scent drifts towards him. Slowly at first, then in a cloud, almost overwhelming. A disturbingly acrid blend of stale body odour and cigarette smoke and… petrol.
He can sense a presence beside him, leaning in close and he opens his eyes in one final attempt to know who he is up against. Or what. Because the spectre looming through the darkness surely can’t be human, or even real. It is a face of nightmares.
The grotesque features contort into a freakish smile, “Why soooo serious?”
Pencil drawing done on basic paper with 2H, 2B & 4B pencils and a longing for photoshop.