༻𝑇𝐻𝑅𝐼𝐿𝐿 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐻𝑈𝑁𝑇༺

sᴇᴠᴇɴ

It's been a couple hours since we found the combination.

I could tell it was late due to the window. But I wanted to be completely sure before we left the basement. We couldn't take any chances.

I continued to look through the room, tearing open our mattresses in search of something one of his victims might've hidden away. I clawed out the stuffing, hoping there might be something that could help us like the code did.

"Y/N, look." Vance said. I turned, noticing him crouched down where there was a slit between the floor and the wall. He dug his fingers into it, pulling out a long cord. I walked over, picking it up.

"Do you know what we could use this for?" I asked, looking around and trying to figure out its purpose. Vance shook his head.

"It doesn't matter, we could still end up needing it." I shrugged, tossing it down onto the floor.

Vance looked up at the window. "It's been dark for a while now. I think we should go."

I took one last look around the room, and agreed. So with that, we slowly pulled open the door and crept silently up the stairs. I followed closely behind Vance, still being scared about The Grabber right outside the basement.

He slowly turned the doorknob and opened the door. Of course, there was The Grabber. Sitting in his chair with his head hanging limply down. He was asleep. I gave Vance a slight nod, and followed him through the room.

I looked down at The Grabber as we snuck past. He smelled foul, like he hadn't showered in weeks. He still wore that stupid mask, and his eyes under it were closed tightly.

"There." Vance whispered under his breath, pointing at the door that was a few feet behind The Grabber. A lock was hanging loosely from the handle.

"Tell me the combinations." Vance muttered. I hovered closely behind him, whispering each number and occasionally looking back at The Grabber.

He finally got it, yanking off the lock loudly. Shit. A dog from another room began barking wildly, bucking at the door in an attempt to get out.

The Grabber's eyes shot open.

"Run, Y/N. Go get the fucking cops. I'll handle this dipshit." Vance demanded. I stared at him in awe. No. He couldn't stay back. He'd get himself killed.

"Vance, I can't just leave you—.."

"— GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE Y/N!" he screamed from the top of his lungs, as The Grabber charged towards us.

I swung open the door, bursting out of the house and began dashing down the street. It wasn't long before that familiar black van came speeding after me. My first thought was Vance. Was he okay? Did The Grabber hurt him?

As much as I wanted to, I didn't have time to worry about him. I had to make it out of here and get to the cops. I heard the motor of the van grow closer and closer, until it was right on my tail.

It stopped, and I began to scream my ass off.

"HELP!" I hollered, as he threw himself out of the car and began chasing after me. "HELP ME! IT'S THE GRABBER!"

He leapt forward, wrapping his arms around my stomach and taking us both down. He dragged me near a bush, holding a knife up against my throat as a couple house lights came on.

"Make one fucking sound.." he whispered dangerously to me, "And I will gut you.. right here in the street. I will strangle you with your own intestines."

I didn't dare move, because I knew he wasn't bluffing. This man was beyond insane. He wouldn't hesitate to kill me right here, right now. So I kept my mouth shut, and watched with horror as the house lights turned back off.

He grabbed me by my shirt and yanked me onto my feet. "Naughty girl." he snarled, banging the top of my head with his fist and knocking me out.

Shit.

______________

I woke up back in that stupid damn basement. My head was pounding, but I didn't care. I was so fucking mad. We were so damn close.

I looked around, only to see Vance laying down on the torn-up mattress beside me. Unconscious.

I crawled over to him, shaking his shoulders gently. "Vance?! Shit, wake up Vance, please wake up."

His eyes slowly fluttered open as blood dripped down his chin from his busted lip. Once he processed what was going on, he sat up, looking mad as hell.

"What the fuck are you doing here." he snapped at me. "I stayed back so your ass could get help!"

I glared at him angrily. "Oh, yeah, sorry about that. I just felt like I wanted to come back here. This really is a nice place." I said sarcastically, throwing my hands into the air and gesturing around me.

"We're never getting out of here, Y/N." Vance curled his legs up against his chest, burying his bloody face into his knees. I sat by him, tilting my head up against the wall to look at the ceiling.

"No. Don't say that. We can't give up, okay?" I mumbled, ripping off a piece of my shirt. I turned to him, lifting up his head and gently dabbing at the blood from his lip. "He got you good."

Vance winced, but didn't resist. "I don't care. My dads done worse."

I lowered the cloth, sighing. "Have you ever tried reporting him?"

"Fuck no," Vance scoffed. "Then the cops would come knocking at his door, asking about that shit, and he gets away with everything. So, once the cops would leave, he'd just beat my ass twice as hard."

"You should crash at my place for a little bit when we get out of here." I suggested.

Vance rolled his eyes. "If we get out of here."