SURVIVOR

P A R T T W O: // To Deep in Sin //

"Jeff, the killer." He whispered, his voice so deep it was hard to even make out, tracing my scars with his claw like nail.

His eye sockets were empty, but looked as if eyes never took place in his skull.

"Just stay still, and let me get what I want." He whispered, lifting his hand away from my scar and down to my shirt making my eyes widen.

Fuck. this.

I began to whimper, pushing against him, only made him push me harder into the wall.

I watched him dig into his pocket, pulling out a shiny object.

"Y/n?" I heard Brian call out, he was right around the corner. The man froze, loosening his grip on my neck and backed away from me, making me slide off of the wall and backed away from him as well trying to gain as much distance away from him.

"Y/n?-" Brian stopped at the entry way to the abandoned room, his face soon formed a scowl.

The man like creature began to make animalistic clicking noises, which confused me due to him being able to prove that he knew (your language).

Now that I had a better view I could see that he had a shredded blue sweatshirt on, boxers that barely hung on to his lower body while his legs were covered in scars and scratches. His feet were what you would imagine what a werewolfs would look like, he was just so hairy.

His hands were claw like, long nails.

His eyes oozed of a tar like liquid.

"Hey! Get away! Shoo!" Brian shouted, raising some old planks of wood above himself that he must've found leaned up against the near brick wall.

The creature just made more clicking noises, it's head faced my direction as it backed away getting down on all fours like a cornered dog.

Rabid.

"Jack, your not yourself right now, go back." Brian calmly stated, eyeing the man like creature. It tilted it's head, the pointed ears on the side of his head went back like a feral cats.

Then he did the unexpected; he stood up.

I took a few steps back, squinting my eyes at the expected sight of his lower body. But brown jeans hid under the long sweatshirt, cut off to look like poorly made shorts.

He seemed weak on two legs, as if he wasn't used to it.

The man clenched his fists, his scalp in his palm as he determined his next move. His brownish black hair covered his forehead and some of his eye sockets, it traveled down just below his ears in a messy manner.

My hands pressed up against the cold wall behind myself, palms flat with sweat. The woods was quiet, it was calm and windy that summer day as well. I could hear Tim rummaging around down stairs, filling the silence other than the demonic man's clicking noises.

"Fine." The man named Jack choked out, stepping backwards untill he was up against the broken window. He coughed up blood, spitting it down in-between his inhuman feet as he stumbled backwards as if he was under a drunk haze. He grabbed his head and leaned against the wall, something terrible repeated in my mind.

Finish him off.

Do it.

Kill him.

He seems weak.

I bit my lower lip, looking over at Brian's who's full attention was on the man.

Something clicked in my mind, like a horse realizing what it was made to do.