He tugged the phone out of the girl's hands and pressed it to his own ear, a scowl gracing his lips as he continued to look around. "I thought I told you to leave her alone," Ethan muttered with distaste.
"You did," the killer smirked, the smugness sounding off their voice, "but I never said I would listen."
Ethan's jaw tightened as the sound of hanging up registered in his ear, the beeping taunting him before someone else ever could. However, it was soon drowned out by the helpless scream that came from behind him.
He whipped around in an instant, the phone falling into his back pocket, as he widened his eyes. Juliet had been pulled back by the masked individual, one hand holding her stomach and arms tight while the other held the knife pressed to her neck. The blade was close, she could feel it touching her skin, yet it wasn't close enough to feel the drag of it being cut away. She squeezed her eyes shut - maybe if she wished hard enough everything would just go away.
"Let her go," Ethan tried, trying to cover his worry and fright for the girl's safety with anger and resentment. The killer tilted their head, emitting a chuckle from beneath the mask. It was then Ethan's anger became all too real, the boy having to mentally hold himself back from jumping at the killer. He knew that if he did it was either him or Juliet being stabbed - he didn't care about himself, but the possibility for her suffering being there haunted his thoughts.
"Now why would I do that?" The killer asked, that monotone voice cutting through the air like the knife being held against the blonde's soft skin. Ethan held his hands forward, brows raising as he took a step closer. Just like he thought, just as he hoped, the killer moved their knife, it moving forward to be held threateningly in his direction. "Not a step closer."
Juliet took a breath, the feeling of sharp metal on her skin holding her back from breathing and thinking and doing anything about where they both were. Now, however, with a clean slate of air between her and the blade, she could make sense of her thoughts. That was all she could do to explain the sudden urge that led to her dragging her knee up and kicking the killer in the forbidden area that hurt all too much.
She didn't know who the killer was, it being a mere chance the masked individual had crumbled to the ground in agony as they clutched their stinging area. Immediately, Ethan reached forward and pulled the girl back, holding her behind him with his arms around her waist. She clutched onto the jacket around his arms, watching as the man looked up at the two with a knife in his hand. Maybe she should've kicked harder.
Ethan, his arms slinging back to his side as he moved forward, tried to grab the knife before the man had regained his full senses. However, the immense pain didn't stop the person behind the mask from swinging the blade around blindly, hoping to hit a nerve or some other spot that would cause the mirroring pain. Unfortunately, much to Ethan and Juliet's demise, they did.
The knife cut through the skin of Ethan's stomach, the boy falling into the brick wall beside him as his blood fell from the wound like a waterfall. He hissed as he covered it with his hands, squeezing his eyes shut as he slowly slid down the wall in pain.
"Ethan!" Juliet cried, running forward to help the boy, ignoring the killer as they struggled to stand.
When the killer was standing, Ethan realised one more thing. This time, the psychopath was his height, whereas when him and Juliet were last attacked, the person behind the mask was significantly shorter. That could only mean one thing, there was more than one killer. He didn't think it could get any worse.
Before the masked individual could slash anymore skin and watch it bleed, the sound of sirens filled the air of the street. A police car on patrol nearby had seen the killer while scanning the streets, the woman behind the wheel instantly flicking on the lights and accompanying sirens as she sped forward. It sent the killer running in the opposite direction, the two on the ground watching in a daze as the officer drove past them to chase the man.
As Juliet looked down at the blood softly gushing from the wound, red coating both of their hands as she tried to apply more pressure than he could manage to create, he stared up into her eyes. "There's two of them, Julie," he whispered, his eyes blinking slowly as he forced himself awake.
"Two of what?" she hummed nervously, eyes not moving from the wound as she watched the blood begin to slow.
"Them. There's two killers." And that shouldn't have been much of a surprise.
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