Just Another Cabin In The Woods.

Ch. 33 What Happens To Bad Girls.

*Alice's P.O.V.*

Blood dripped out from the corner of my mouth where the old woman had hit me with the hilt of what appeared to be a dagger. My head dropped down, I was covered in dirt and sweat, I'm pretty sure some of my teeth were chipped, and the blood wouldn't stop dripping from my mouth, even though it was closed.

I could hear Nisha's screams emanating from the other room. Flinching, some tears slipped out of my eyes as my hunger, thirst, and desperation finally caught up with me.

*Elliot's P.O.V.*

My parents crowded around me, they'd arrived as soon as they'd heard the news. Our reunion was cut short as the investigators stepped back in. "We'd like to interview your son," One stated, my parents started speaking on my behalf, "The boy is traumatized, don't you have enough?" They wouldn't shut up and frustration built up inside me.

"You know who's traumatized? Alice, she's being fucking tortured and being babied because of a minor concussion that's already healing pales in comparison. So yes, I will do the damn interview." I snapped, my parents staring at me in surprise.

After the doctors let me, I was taken to a secure room, and they started questioning me. I answered the best I could.

*Alice's P.O.V.*

As Nisha's screams didn't stop, and suddenly rebellion swelled up inside me. Struggling against the shackles I managed to slide my raw wrists out, and crept out dizzily down the hall. Using Nisha's screams as covers, I crept down the hall. As I reached the end, just near freedom. About a foot away, I tripped over a thin trip wire and suddenly bells started ringing. Before I could gather my bearings, I was knocked unconscious.

When I woke up I was laying on the ground. Everything was blurry, not unusual. But something wet was underneath me. It was sticky, looking down I saw a dark crimson liquid. I was laying a pool of blood. Blinking in an attempt to gather my bearings, I focused on what was next to me and when I saw it. I screamed.

It was Nisha, her throat, wrists, and ankles were slashed open. We were laying in her blood. Shakily sitting up, I shakily grabbed a white note with blood stains on it. In oddly neat handwriting it said, 'This is what happens to bad girls.'

Staring down at Nisha's corpse I was completely numb.

She was dead.

And it was my fault.