My running died down into a slow pace as my breathing picked up. I glanced to my side, seeing my house. I focused specifically on the windows, seeing as there's a shadow pacing back and forth behind the translucent curtains. Should I tell Dylan where I'm headed?
I halted, thinking of my next move. I stared at the shadow, wondering what the hell Dylan is doing, walking around.
He constantly kneels down or glances around as he paced. I'm getting worried . . . I'll just give him a call. I don't really want to talk to him since he's being such a grump since this morning－even though it's all on me because I keep blabbing about my issues with Byron.
I turned and resumed my walk to Byron's house. I fished out my phone from my antique sling bag and dialed Dylan's number, which is luckily the first number that showed up, given that I barely text anyone else than him.
In just three rings, he immediately picked up, "What?"
"Nothing. Just passed by the house . . ." I shrugged even though he couldn't see me, "What the hell were you doing?"
"N-none."
I paused, "None?"
"Nothing. I meant nothing." His voice went higher, "Anyway, where are you going? I thought you'll be home 'soon'."
"Okay, but before we get to that, what were you doing?" I repeated the question he nearly avoided, "Answer me." I pressed on.
"Nothing!"
"You fucking liar!" I accused. He is definitely up to something.
There was a long pause on the other end, I nearly thought that he had hung up with my phone spontaneously not notifying me, ". . . Chester is missing."
As he dropped those three words, I immediately felt a roller coaster of disgust, panic and dread, "Oh, my God! I swear, if one of my stuff gets ruined, I will－"
"See?! This is why I didn't want to tell you!" He cut me off, shouting. "You're so stupid, you're full of empty threats. You can't even touch him! You're horrible!"
My mouth hang open as I walked with my phone on my ear. I really shouldn't have scolded him. It slipped my mind that he's in a total crabby state. This is a mistake.
"I'm older than you, you can't threaten me! This house is my property too, you ass!" He added. Oh, God, he just lumped me in with Droney. Ugh.
"Mmkay, Dylan." I said in a hurried tone as Byron's house entered my field of vision, "I'm going to be at Byron's house. I'll text you when I'll be home." I didn't wait for another word and hung up. He can be really rude sometimes－So can I, but not as much, I think.
As I grew closer and closer to Byron's house, I noticed that it's really dark inside, but maybe it's just me. Eventually, I reached his porch and stopped. I took a big breath and rang the doorbell twice. I really don't know what's going on or why did I even come here in the first place, but there's one question in my mind.
Why is he taking a leave? Sure, Mr. Myers said he's probably stressed out from working at both the high school and college, but that can't possibly be it. He doesn't even looked stressed, he's being perfectly normal. I think he's even done with all the things he had to do related to work. That can't be it. I know it.
Why isn't he opening the door? It's getting dark out too . . .
I rang the doorbell three more times. I don't really care if I'm acting incredibly creepy right now. I'm worried. I backed away from the door and walked to the side of the porch. I faced the window and knelt towards it, cupping my hands around my eyes as I peered inside. Of course, there's a curtain blocking half of my view, but I could partially see inside, and it was empty and dark.
I moved and regained my posture, thinking to myself. So, he's not home at all . . . Where is he?
I spun around and walked to the steps of his porch. I sat down on the third and highest step and stared blankly into nothing. The worry I previously felt became ten times worse. I can't grasp why I'm so worried. It's perfectly normal for people－adults, even－to be out of their house in the afternoon. But I can't deny this feeling that something bad is going to happen.
. . . I think I'll wait for a little while more.
。。。。。。。。。。。。。
Several hours later . . .
"Byron, we're almost there." The hooded man spoke as he lead them, "How are you holding up?"
"Bad . . ." The tall man answered, groaning as he pressed a hand on his head.
"We're starting to hear it again." The white-masked man glanced behind him as the ringing returned.
"I can't do anything about it." The man replied, seemingly in much more pain than the other two.
"Here," The white-masked man handed him a small, yellow bottle, "Take it, it will calm you down."
The tall man pushed his hand away, "You know I don't like taking medications like that."
"What choice do you have, Byron?" The hooded figure said in a harsh tone as he gave the other two behind him a look, "It's bad enough you're in this state. My ears are starting to hurt, so you either take it and calm down, or I'll knock you out again like back at Tim's house."
The tall man hesitated, but the throbbing pain on his cheek which the hooded man previously inflicted on him made him decide. He grabbed the bottle from the man and opened it before chugging down several pills like what the man wearing the yellow jacket used to do.
"Good." The hooded figure nodded, "Now, this part of the forest is dense. Watch where you're stepping."
"We shouldn't have gone this way." The white-masked man flatly said.
"Well, Byron's the one who said we have to avoid being seen, so . . ." The man trailed off.
"It's midnight. Everyone's asleep." The man added.
"You can't be sure of that." The tall man interrupted.
The three trudged through the thick bushes and thorny weeds, eyeing far ahead to see if they are close. Through the narrow spaces between each misgiving tree, a sign of civilization appeared. A concrete road can be seen from ahead. As each grew closer, hints of small buildings entered their vision.
"There." The black-masked man said.
"Hey, Brian, where exactly is this?" The white-masked man asked.
"It's the town next to ours. The bad one." The man answered.
The man in the yellow jacket paused before following once more, "That town gives me the creeps."
"Pussy." The man wearing an orange hoodie said as the three of them were walking.
"For once, stop making crude comments like that." The man sighed, "Now's not really the time."
"Shut up, Tim." He retorted before looking behind him, "How's he doing?"
The white-masked man glanced at the man in the suit, "Byron?"
"I'm fine." He said through gritted teeth, "Just keep walking. I'm fine."
"At least the ringing stopped . . ." The man wearing a white mask shrugged.
The three eventually reached the end of the forest, but before they stepped out in the open, they made sure no one was there to witness them. The town was dark and cold. The only building emanating a faint light was a bar. Muffled noises emerged from the said building, but it seems no one plans to leave which means they are able to sneak around.
"Follow me and shut up." The black-masked man ordered. He had his head low as he made a quick yet silent run towards the back of a small shed beside the bar. With years of practice, he was able to go unnoticed, blending into the shadows.
The two followed in unison, given that the tall man is growing weaker and exhausted. As soon as they got to the shed, the hooded man spoke, "He lives around here. I'm the only one who knows where, so hurry."
The three scurried around from a hiding spot to another with the hooded man going first and the other two following. They ultimately reached their destination with a sense of accomplishment, followed by dread.
"So . . . Byron－"
"I know." He stopped the hooded man as he stared at the rundown house in front of him.
"Right." The man nodded, almost awkwardly, "We'll just . . . make sure no ones around."
The tall man didn't seem to hear as he head towards the decaying back door. Speculating, he reached onto the doorknob, but found that it's unlocked this whole time. He glanced at the two and caught them staring back through the holes of their masks.
He turned the knob and pushed the door, making a loud, creaking sound as chips of wood fell. He knew what he had to do and he knew his friend chose the right person－someone who deserves what is coming.
Inside, it was dark. It's as if there was never anyone here at all. It was quiet, but there was an indistinct sound－static?
But this one is real, it was coming from somewhere unlike the 'other' kind. Thanks to the pills he had taken, his heart rate slowed down and he became numb from the pain he felt, physically and mentally. His whole body seemed to relax, but now, he wasn't so sure.
He followed the sound he had heard and found himself in front of a worn out, moth-eaten set of stairs leading up to the second floor. Once again, his heart began to beat faster and his head began to ache. But he knew what he had to do.
He cautiously walked up the stairs, gripping the handrails for support. He was starting to lose his balance once more and the static he hears were not only coming from the second floor, but from everywhere. The pills had already lost their effect.
A fit of coughing was heard. The tall man reached the topmost step and paused. There was a pale light coming from a room. The door was halfway open and the light made shadows appear more menacing than they should have.
Another sound was heard. It was a voice of a man, cursing under his breath, followed by another coughing fit.
The tall man in the suit took a big breath and used up all his strength to focus. He needed to get into the man's head and delude him from what is real and what is not. This is the only way for him to avoid being seen－not only by the victim, but by people whose presence are unknown. If he was able to do this, no one would see his real face. They'd only see what he wants them to see.
The tall man felt a rush of adrenaline, pumping energy through his veins. He entered a state where everything around him was merely an illusion. And now, the victim is with him.
He entered the dilapidated room without hesitation. He knows he cannot back out now. He'd fail if he did, and his make-believe appearance will disappear. They'd convict him. The 'normal' life he lived will be destroyed.
The man had his back turned to the tall man while sitting on a grimy armchair, asleep. The man was facing an old television that played nothing but static. The man in a suit envisioned himself as a pale, faceless creature, and thus, making others see him as such.
He constantly reminded himself that this is for the good of everybody. This man, asleep in front of him, deserves what's coming. The once tall man, now a faceless creature in everyone's eyes, concentrated and woke the man with a series of white noise.
The man immediately retaliated by standing up, gripping his ears as he screamed. A scream he had heard more than enough throughout the life he lived. Presumably, he stopped the noise and let the man see him.
"W-What are y－" The fear that tore through the man's face began to fill him with satisfaction. He never wanted to hurt anyone, but he can't deny that, deep down, he is enjoying it.
"P-Please, don't hurt me! I'm begging you!"
He concentrated once more, wanting to end it as soon as possible. He never liked it when they begged, it only caused him more guilt and regret. The man remained unaffected by the noise－rather, there were no signs of the noise.
Suddenly, a series of tendrils shot out from the faceless man's back without his command. Excruciating pain emerged from them. The appendages broke through his very skin and soon, blood flowed from his back. He knew about the tendrils, but after experiencing them once, he swore never to use them. It was too barbaric. But why did they appear now? The thought of it didn't even cross his mind.
Unanticipated, the tendrils moved on their own, leaving the faceless man to cope with the pain from having them appear. The tendrils shot out towards the man who was frozen in horror. They each pierced through his chest, one by one.
He did not understand what was happening. Something else was controlling the tendrils. It wasn't him.
". . . You attempt to defy it . . . How dare you go against my word . . ."
A garbled sound was heard, but he cannot distinguish where it came from. But he knew what it was.
". . . Disobey me again and you will have no authority over your own actions . . ."
The distorted voice was followed by an eerie ringing－a noise that affected him. He grit his teeth as he tried to fight it, but he was unable to do so. He yelled in pain as he felt his ears began to bled, and instantly, the voice and static disappeared altogether.
He frantically glanced around him and came face to face with a broken mirror. With the faint light from the television, now covered in blood, he saw that he was already in his real form－his human form. The horror of the faceless creature was gone.
Yet the tendrils stayed.
But when he stared at the mirror, he saw that the tendrils were slowly, slowly fading. They did not bury themselves into his back. They simply became transparent, until they completely vanished into thin air, leaving holes on his back.
He collapsed to the floor at the pain the appendages caused. While he may heal quick－quicker than most people－the pain is still unbearable. The blood soaked through his suit and formed a pool on the spot where he lies.
"Byron!" He heard the familiar voice of his friend－Tim.
He felt two pairs of hands grip him by the shoulder, picking him up. For many reasons, he is thankful to them. No actions nor words could express how grateful he is. They had sacrificed their lives for him and this . . . monstrosity.
"God, this is worse than I thought. What the hell happened?" Another voice exclaimed, "Tim, go take him back to your house. I'll stay behind."
"Wait, what if you end up getting cau－"
"I'm not gonna get caught, I can handle this." The man said, not even bothered by the scene, "I'll meet you there."
The white-masked man hesitantly nodded, "Okay. Hurry." He said before wrapping the tall man's arm around his shoulder and supporting him, "Hang in there, Byron."
。。。。。。。。。。。。。
I felt my hair getting pulled, "Ow!" I shouted with my eyes still closed.
"What the hell are you doing?!" A furious voice came from upfront, "Why are you sleeping in a place like this?!"
It took a lot for me to open my eyes. I found myself staring up at my brother, "Dylan?"
"Yeah, it's me. Get up!" He pulled me up by the arm which hurt a little bit, "We're going home."
"Home? What are－Hey, let go of me!" I roughly pulled my arm from him, "What's going on?"
"You . . . you're really the most dimwitted person I've ever known!" He yelled. Wow, okay, that's it.
"Will you shut the fuck up and calm down?! I have no idea what's going on!" I glared daggers at him, "Can we at least continue this conversation inside?!" I pointed a thumb behind me.
His scowl slowly formed into a look of disbelief as his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, "Turn around." He finally spoke.
Growing unsure of myself, I turned around and saw a red house. My house isn't fucking red . . . Wait, this is Byron's house.
"Why am I he－" Before I could ask, I remembered the reason I was here in the first place. I was waiting for Byron, I must've fallen asleep by the porch.
It's already dark out. I raised my hand and glanced at my wristwatch to see that it's already past midnight. Holy shit, I've been sleeping for a while. I was tired since I was stressing myself about my relationship with Byron, but I didn't think I was this exhausted.
I looked back at the windows and saw that no lights were on which meant he really didn't return at all. Where is he . . ?
"You told me you'd be over his house." Dylan muttered, "It's been hours and I haven't heard from you. How did you think I felt?"
"Well, sorry, I was asleep." I rolled my eyes, "Besides, I can stay over anyone's house for as long as I want. I'm not a kid anymore, Dylan."
"No, but you act like one." He sarcastically said before turning his back to me and walking back home, "I swear, that guy is so shady."
"Leave him alone already." I groaned, "How'd you even know where his house is?"
"I didn't specifically look for his house, I was looking for you." He sighed, "I installed an app on your phone. I basically know where you are all the time as long as you have your phone. You can do the same with me, I have the app too."
". . . Oh, my God. That's so creepy." I blurted out in a daze, "But at least you found me. If not, I might have slept through－" I didn't get to finish my words when I sneezed repeatedly at the back of Dylan's head.
He froze before raising his arms and balling his hands in tight fists, "You're so disgusting! Wipe it off!"
"Sorry." I unenthusiastically apologized before pulling his jacket and using it.
"Did you just use my jacket to wipe it?!"
"I don't have anything to use and I don't have sleeves." I excused.
"You're fucking hopeless." He shuddered in disgust before walking once again, "So," he started, "I'm guessing you and that weirdo are still not okay, given that you're sleeping on his porch."
"Well, yeah, but that's because I didn't really see him today other than at work." I mumbled, "I didn't have the chance to talk to him, so I went to his house, but he wasn't home, so . . ." I trailed off.
"Hah. Good." He triumphantly said. Asshole.
I walked behind him in a daze. I guess he's serious in taking a break from work. Is it because of me? Maybe he got stressed by our situation . . . Nah. He doesn't even care about me.
Where could he be? I really feel like something's wrong . . . I just want to know if he's okay.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I think this is my fave chapter of all time because it's a bit similar to Lethal Passion and I lab it su mats.
As for school sheit. I'm done. I'm just so fucking done. I was supposed to be a scriptwriter and director in a project, but I haVEN'T HAD TIME FOR MYSELF IN MONTHS. OMG. MY MARKIPLIER FANART IS OVERDUE AND I CAN'T EVEN FINISH IT YET BECOS SCHOOL. THEN I HAVE THIS GROUP MEMBER WHO'S ACTUALLY CAPABLE, SO I BASICALLY TOLD HER SHE'S THE NEW SCRIPTWRITER/DIRECTOR AND IT'S REALLY SUCH A LETDOWN BECAUSE I WAS EXCITED ABOUT THIS PROJ. BUT, Y'KNOW, I PREFER TIME FOR MYSELF GAWD. ALSO WE HAVE A PROJECT THAT INVOLVES SONG MAKING SO I WROTE A SONG ABOUT FOCKING PIRATES BECOS I FUCKING LOVE PIRATES. I WANT TO BE A PIRATE SO MAYBE I CAN STOP GOING TO SCHOOL AND JUST GO ON ADVENTURES AND BE RICH AS FUCK BECOS TREASURES. OMG I WISH I WAS A PIRATE. I JUST RLY LOVE PIRATES.
Lols, sorry. Thanks so much for reading my story :D You guys always make my day better.