Mikes Perspective:
"Sam... Sam, wake up!" I whisper through the grates for the thousandth time.
I see Sam starting to wake up and am relieved she isn't dead. She lifts her head up and looks around the room. She spots me and looks at me confused.
"Mike! Is that you?" Sam whisper yells, squinting in my direction.
"Shhh!" I whisper, not wanting him to catch her. "Get over here!"
Sam pushes her chair over to me, which luckily has wheels. Her arms are tied behind her with rope and her ankles tied together. She makes it over to me and stops before she hits the wall.
"Here, turn around, let me get that rope off." I say.
Sam spins her chair around, and I cut off the rope securing her hands with my machete. I give it to her to cut the rope securing her feet. Sam gets up and crouches down at the grate.
"How did you.. How are you here?" Sam asks me.
"There's some fucking maniac on this mountain, he lives in these tunnels of the old mines. I was down there trying to get out when I found this grate, and I saw you." I explain to Sam.
"Where's Jess? Wasn't she with you?" Sam asks.
The thought of having to tell people that Jess is dead never crossed my mind until now. It feels terrible. I've spent all night looking for the guy who killed her. She was grabbed from our cabin and taken out of the window. It all happened so fast. I grabbed the shotgun and ran after her. He took her into the mines. I found her on the elevator, her jaw ripped off. I was about to take her body off of the elevator when it fell. I chased the man into the sanatorium, but I lost him.
"Jessica's dead." I say solemnly.
"What!?" Sam asks, reasonably shocked and confused.
"He killed her, Sam. This- This maniac, he wants us all dead for some reason. I swear to god," I say, feeling my anger rise. "When everyone is safe, I'm gonna hunt that fucker down and rip his nuts off one at a goddamn time."
"Jesus, Mike." Sam says, taken aback. "This guy, he attacked me. He showed me this video what showed Josh being killed... just... ripped apart by this huge saw blade..."
"Jesus Fuck," I say. "I chased the fucker into that sanatorium after he killed Jess, he fucking ripped her jaw off."
"What the hell is going on around here..." Sam says quietly.
"There's a door here, and it won't open. Can you see if you can open it from your side?"
"Yeah, hold on." Sam says, getting up and heading out the door.
I wait outside of the door, hoping he didn't hurt anyone else that Sam and I don't know about. Chris... Emily ... Y/n.... I hear the sound of locks turning and the door opens. Sam stands in the doorway.
"Hey.."
"Jeez, you look like hell." Sam says.
I knew I looked like shit, but hell? I have scrapes all over, especially on my arms. I can feel more scrapes on my face and bet it's worse than i'm thinking. It obviously is based on her reaction. My feet hurt from running and are probably bruised.
"Nice to see you too." I say back jokingly, but meaning what I say.
I follow Sam into another hallway with a lot of rooms branching off.
"How did he take you?" I ask to make small talk.
"I was just unpacking, and when I was done, I went to find the others, but I got to reminiscing when I walked into Hannah's old bedroom here, then I turned around to see a masked man. I tried to run, but he tripped me and grabbed me, then he put a rag over my mouth."
"Shit, that's terrible." I say.
Sam and I check out almost all of the other rooms. We're about to walk into another room when I step on something and it clanks against the stone floor. I bend down and pick it up.
"What is it?" I hear Sam ask.
I turn around, feeling a heated look come on my face. I stick out my hand, dangling Y/n's bracelet from my finger.
"Is that Y/n's?" Sam asks.
"Yeah, He has her." I say, walking into the next room, quicker than I did previously.
"How do you know?" Sam asks.
I pause and look at the bracelet. I rub it with my thumb.
"Y/n's grandfather gave her this bracelet before he died. They had a really close relationship and this is basically all she has left of him. She wears it every day to remind herself that he will always be with her and never takes it off. She wouldn't let someone take it from her without a fight."
"Wow, Mike, I never knew that." Sam says.
"Yeah, we have to find her, and the others." I say.
Sam and I search the last two rooms and enter a set of double doors. The door loudly slams shut behind us.
"Lets hope he didn't hear that." Sam says.
"No kidding."
I look around and see a flashlight sitting on a table. I grab the flashlight and keep going. I shine it around, searching for any trace of anyone.
I see something hanging from the ceiling. I shine my light on it and see a dummy of a clown wearing Y/n's clothes. For a second, I thought it was her, until it faced me and I saw a sharp toothed clown staring back at me. It has everything on. Her shirt, pants, even her hat and jacket.
"What the hell?" I ask.
"Jesus.." Sam says, clearly creeped out.
"How the hell did her clothes get here?" I ask.
"Mike," Sam says seriously after a moment of thought. "I was unpacking when Y/n came looking for Josh. I told her he wasn't there and she went to take a bath."
A million things run through my mind. None good.
"I swear to god if that sick fuck laid his hands on her i'll-"
"Mike, we'll find her... Okay? I'm sure she's alive." Sam says reassuringly.
I nod and follow Sam to the next room.
"Wait. Look." Sam says.
I look over and see a crack of wood. Inside is a light. I shine my light onto the wall and see a small door handle. The door practically blends into the wall. We go in and see what looks like a workshop of some sort. Tools like hammers, nails, even stone laid around. Sam walks up to the work bench on the side of the room.
"Holy shit! Mike look at this." Sam says holding up what look like blueprints.
It looks like chairs and two saws above them. Next to the drawing are notes about building it and assembling it.
"Who the hell is this guy?" I ask.
"How didn't the Washington's notice this was here?" Sam asks.
I open the drawers on the sides of the bench and find paperwork from a psychiatrist. The patient's name shows Josh Ryan Washington. I read papers spanning over months, it shows him denying medication every visit. Medication for anxiety and depression.
"Sam..." I say turning to her.
Sam turns to me at the same time holding a cell phone.
"What the hell is that?" Sam asks, looking at the papers.
"Psychiatric reports for Josh. It says he's been denying his medication. Who's phone is that?"
Sam turns the phone to face me and turns on the screen. A picture of Josh, Hannah, and Beth by a campfire illuminate the screen.
"There's these messages of Josh and his therapist. His therapist was concerned for him because he wasn't going to therapy anymore. Josh said he was planning something and his therapist was highly against it." Sam says.
"Why would he have all of this stuff?" I ask no one.
I look around at the layout of the workshop. There are three doors. One is in one corner, another in the complete opposite, where we just came from, and another in the middle of a back wall. Next to the door is a long empty table with one thing.
A pair of scissors. I wouldn't think the scissors would be important, but they're alone on the table. I pick them up and put them in my back pocket. I go to walk back to Sam when I hear muffled screaming. My heart stops for a moment.
"Y/n? Y/n?!" I yell.
The voice screams louder. It's coming from the middle room.