A/N: This chapter was an absolute pain to write. >_< it just kept going and going and going and before I knew it, here are 23 word pages to make up for my inability to follow a schedule ^^;;; I... I still don't know if I got the characters right, especially since I'm very tired these days with all the extra work I have at my job (I GOT A NEW JOB X3 X3 yeyyyyy) since Christmas is just around the corner and I'm literally drowning in paperwork, so as usual, feel free to point out anything amiss and I'll fix it right away ^^ Just a friendly reminder though that the Proxies are different from the Killers in many ways, though not less dangerous in any way. But.... without further adue, to the chapter we go! Stay unique my loves, can't wait to hear your thoughts <3
~Vivian
With an abrupt twinge, you come to your senses.
Holy freaking cow, everything, literally e v e r y inch of your body is unanimously screaming out like a pterodactyl in the dead of the cold night who's trying desperately to imitate the higher frequency waves bats produce and fails at it miserably. Your head is pounding like someone hit you repeatedly with wild abandon and your stomach's trying to melt away the rest of your organs like Vesuvius is back in business. Honestly, you are more than surprised to actually wake up after all the pounding and the chase you were subjected to; all the wounds decorating your body are still there along with the pain resonating from your broken ribs and nose, while you do feel just a tad lethargic by all the blood loss. Which is why you are actually surprised to find yourself awake. All the pain wouldn't be present if you were dead. Oh the sweet, sweet release of death. But then again you might just be dead and in hell for the sin of downloading movies online from pirate sites as a teenager... Oh well, probably you've reserved the nearest boiling cauldron to the stage! Or then again, you're a cheap Deadpool knock off and everything hurts like shit just like him. You'd pay for his regenerative ability right about now, or at least Spidey-boy to come save your ass –hopefully as Andrew because you love Tom, but let's keep kids out of these kind of stories....FOCUS! This isn't Marvel; you've probably landed yourself straight into the DC universe. Buh-bye happiness and optimism.
Memories of the last things you saw before passing out fill your brain and you have to swallow hard on the lump threatening to close up your neck and choke you, as you remember the hellishly haunting creature standing above you and torturing you with convulsions and threatening words that made no sense. You were left as a tribute to it in the middle of the forest by those masked freaks and true to their word, now you are scared shitless with what the fuck was that thing you encountered. If that was the Master they were talking about, well slap you in the butt and call you Sally because you'll be getting the next train out of Looneybin despite all the things the Tall Man said to you. Which only brings forth the question of where the fuck are you now? You are surely awake right now, but all you can see is penetrating darkness with absolutely no traces of light whatsoever –for a moment you thought your eyes are still closed but no– and apparently someone has duct taped your mouth shut for good. Straining your ears, you try to catch a sound but nothing comes through....
This does absolutely nothing to alleviate your impeding hyperventilation.
Once again, the more the situation you are in sets in, the more your anxiety and horror skyrockets. It doesn't help when you realize you cannot move at all since you are strapped upon a chair, nor that your face is covered by a thick cloth. For all you know, they can be staring at you right now, watching how hopeless and vulnerable you are, waiting for the right opportunity to snap your neck like a twig. Coldness creeps its way on your scorching skin and the shivers it triggers shake your broken ribs violently, having you scream straight into the duct tape with sheer excruciating pain coursing through you. Trying the best you can to breathe, you swallow down the bile rising in your throat and try to breathe in through the sobs erupting. Tears roll down your eyes and with everything left within you, you focus on wiggling the best you can to loosen the bindings a little bit. The more you try though the more they bear themselves into your already hurt limbs, drawing a burning sensation that only intensifies the more you move. This torture seems to go on for hours; you try several times to count the minutes as precisely as you possibly can, but your anxiety does you no favors and it feels like hours upon hours pass by you, inside this cold and torturous prison offered by your damned mind. And your hyperventilating seems to go on and on and there is no stop to the tears and there is no stop to the fear and you beg, beg for your life to be spared and hope that the opportunity to get the hell out of here arises soon, before you lose whatever you had of your mind.
Eventually, the fires of your panic die down after what seems like forever, leaving behind them an exhausted and bereft of any life body, retreating to shimmer steadily inside your heart, a constant companion threatening to swallow you back up at any given opportunity. Slipping in and out of sleep, you are unable to even guess how many hours you are left in here to rot; by now you are sure you are alone and by the ever-growing hunger and thirst, it must be at least a whole day since they got you. No sound reaches your ears other than your labored breaths and you are too terrified to attempt screaming out; it doesn't sound a very wise choice honestly and no one that can hear you is anything but a foe right now, so helping you out is certainly out of the damned question. Still, you have to think. Think long, think hard, find a way to at least unbound yourself; the ropes are securely wrapped around you by a skilled hand and no matter how much you shake your head to manage and take the hood off, it brings more pain than progress.
Trust yourself.
Calmly, you will find a way out of here.
Just think of a plan _____!
Think! Think!
Heavy footsteps reverberate like gunshots inside the silence.
Like a deer in headlights, your whole body freezes immediately and your panic skyrockets once again as you focus on the sound of not one, but three different pairs of footsteps walking just above your head. The wooden floor creaks and each step they take makes your heart pound painfully inside your ribcage and your eyes follow the sound which grows closer and closer. Your breath is ragged and you swallow hard in order to prevent yourself from hyperventilating again. Voices sound and you almost jump in your seat, cold sweat bathing you; half of your mind is battling fiercely to throw you off balance and into the depths of horror, alas the other half is ordering you to stay calm and think about this. It doesn't help at all when a door is unceremoniously opened and a light goes on above you, visible even through your hood. Previous conversations die down as they shuffle inside the room and you remain as perfectly rigid as you possibly can; it's calmness and evaluation that finally wins the battle. Even if you're scared shitless.
A pair of shoes comes towards you and yanks the hood off your head violently.
Light floods your eyes, momentarily blinding you enough not to see the hand grabbing the duct tape and pulling it off with a painful motion that has you voicing your discomfort. But as you adjust to the light, whatever emotion you had within you is overridden by absolute fear as Goggles towers above you, his fluorescent orange goggles shining ominously as he looks down on you.
From this close he literally looks twice the size he normally is, with his dark hair falling over his goggles in tangled disarray, adding to the shadows resting over his mouthguard. In the strangely prolonged moment he stands above you, he doesn't speak and only looks at you with his stare burning holes on your skin and his unnerving aura has the hair in the back of your neck stand up; a strong smell of rust and salt reaches your nose and your stomach turns once again as you realize what it is. Suddenly, his head twitches towards the right and a painful cracking sound follows it; your eyes widen in horror mixed with disgust, earning a low ominous chuckle from him before the man leisurely retreats back to sit with his comrades on the wooden table existing right in front of you.
Hood and Mask are already surrounding the table, with Mask sitting right across and on the head with Hood on his right and Goggles on his left. All of them are casually surrounding the table, their postures relaxed and eyes fixated upon you; trying to hide your fear, you fix your gaze straight into the table right in front of you, only to regret it when you notice the blood stains upon it. Biting down harshly on your lips, you chant the mantra of 'stay calm' inside your mind again and again. Or else you're going to lose it. Everything around you was covered in blood, the room being not too big but not too small, with a wooden staircase descending right behind Mask and obviously being underground.
'I'm sure you have quite a few questions by now.' Mask points out the obvious, drawing your attention from the table to him as he leans forward to rest his elbows on the table casually.
Totally ignoring the blood beginning to stain his jacket.
Obviously he's waiting for a response from you, but in the silence that follows his words, your mind is struggling to form coherent sentences and keep its cool at the same time. Quite the task if they asked you, since your concussion is once again pounding against your skull; the adrenaline and high blood pressure due to your fear are giving you no breaks when it comes to your head and it's difficult to focus on anything else but that. Your pounding heart is also straining against the broken ribs painfully. Plus, remaining silent right now is your best option in remaining alive for as long as you can, getting information you can use against them later on. Mask notices your lack of willingness to acknowledge him and sighs through his mask, as if you're chatting about your latest mischief at school and not how they beat you into a pulp, made you meet their monstrous boss and abducted you afterwards. Let's not even touch the elephant in the room about killing your psychiatrist.
'Our names are, respectively, Hoody, Masky and Toby.' His voice still sounds familiar, laced with a bit of sadness and tiredness 'For regular standards, you won't find us in any neighborhood and if you do, well, it's better to accept the fact you're going to die. Won't find us on the phone book as well; we simply do not exist for normal standards.' He simply shrugs.
'But... I'm not dead am I?' you manage to croak out with great difficulty through your shredded from the screams throat. Raising your head just a bit, you dare a stare straight at Hoody no matter how much it pains you to move your head even a single bit. If you could, you simply wanted to curl up in a ball and die peacefully on a small corner, but all you could actually do is sit in this painful chair, wrapped up like ham and await for the inevitable end. Your vision is plagued with hazy dots here and there, something you didn't think was actually good 'Or at least yet. You tried killing me though.'
'You'd not be punished if you didn't try to escape.' Masky states out the obvious.
You close your eyes lightly, trying to keep your cool and dictate your mind to form the necessary sentences to answer him, licking your dried up and bloody lips a bit and inhaling deeply, as much as your broken ribs allowed you to 'Oh I'm sorry, three masked freaks who stalked me for months murder my psychiatrist right in front of my eyes, chase me through the forest and give me a concussion. What a base for civilized conversation, am I right?' you say, opening your eyes to offer whatever glare was still inside you, acknowledging Masky's existence.
He remains as cool as a cucumber, shrugging off your attempt to provoke him like it was nothing 'You're still alive _____. Actually, all of your wounds are treated and already healing; the severe ones will remain for a few days longer, but will eventually get better thanks to our Master. If it wasn't for your possible usefulness, you'd already be dead. How's that for a stable base for conversation huh?' he demands.
'I'll give mr. Tentacles my thanks next time I see him.' You roll your eyes but flinch as pain shoots through your head.
'Ungrateful little gorgeous bitch...~' Toby interrupts you, dangerously leaning towards you, making the shadows appear deeper 'C-can't say you w-won't end up fucked up i-if you keep it up. C-can't wait to see it.' he cruelly laughs, tilting his head to the side and folding his hands over his chest arrogantly.
'Still won't be by your hand.' You spit at him before you really have the chance to realize what you are saying and stop yourself before it's too late 'Castrated mutts can't do that you know.'
Whatever the fuck you said, caused an instant reaction to the dangerous, deranged man. In a flash, he's on his feet and charges towards you. Instinctively you try to back off as he slams his hand on the bloody table, only to get terrified when you can't move at all, no matter how desperately you jerk in order to simply make the damned chair move. Thankfully for you, Masky is quick enough to shoot up and grab him by the hand, stopping him just a few meters away from you; one of his hands is already at his hatchet and his fingers are violently twitching along with the rest of his whole hand.
'Calm down Toby.' Comes the order from Hoody, stern and with lack of any emotions.
As if the man turned on a switch, Toby's posture straightens immediately and he violently jerks his hand away from Masky. He plops back at his chair and folds his hands over his chest yet again; his head twitches again and the bone pops painfully.
If you didn't know any better, you'd say you just wetted yourself. Lemme just never do that when you're strapped down and completely on their mercy. Your running mouth will surely be the end of you...Why do you do this gurl, you're strapped down and in a basement with deranged killers, shut your cakehole already! Okay? Okay!
'Anyway.' Masky eventually breaks the silence, sitting back on his chair after carefully waiting for Toby to lunge against you out of the blue; when he doesn't, his shoulders relax 'You're here to help us out. As you already know, our Master is the creature you've encountered in the field. He's an ancient being that lurks around these woods: they're called Slender Woods and they are his entire domain. Us, his servants, are all called Proxies and reside here with him, bearing his mark on some point on our bodies. Since you're not a full-fledged Proxy yet, your mark is going to be different. Sleepers are always judged for their abilities before and if they become Proxies.' He explains.
It's your time to tilt your head to the side in confusion 'Wait. So you're basically telling me there is an ancient monster lurking around in the Natural Park of Potosi? In Missouri?'
He nods and by the jerking movement of his shoulders, you'll take a wild guess and say he laughed 'Of course not. The Woods are accessed solely by the Proxies and a few other individuals who are in alliance with Slender, in whichever forest they find themselves in. Humans like you can't trespass if not escorted by a Proxy or said individual. We brought you here, but you won't survive without us out there, even if you're a Sleeper.' Leaning against the table once again, the man passes his hand through his hair before bringing them to meet right in front of him again. Honestly, he seemed deceivingly stable, but you knew all too well by now to know better than that.
Carefully, Masky turns to Hoody, with the second man simply nodding to a question you failed to pick up.
Honestly, all these new information is making your headache even worse.
'What is a Sleeper exactly?' you dare ask, gaze wandering from Masky, to Hoody and staying there seriously.
'Better yet, care to share with us what exactly Master said to you?' Masky ignores your question to pose one of his own, with a finality that didn't allow any disagreements.
With a long sigh –well, as deep as you could in your state–, you try to get as comfortable as you can while tied down in order to properly explain what the hell went down. Memories of that horrible evening where you actually met the Tall Man flood your mind in a painful way, violating your thoughts and etching themselves across the valleys of your mind with fiery letters. If it was any other time, if you weren't actually having a conversation with three deranged and murderous individuals inside a bloody basement, while strapped down into a chair, you'd think you had finally took that very last step over the cuckoo's nest. All the memories are right there inside your mind, as vivid as if you're living it right now and the message they held was also as clear as the sunny summer sky in the middle of August in a beach in the Bahamas. Biting down on your lips, you try to make sense of what you had experienced, of how it was possible not only for a creature like the Tall Man, Slenderman, to exist, let alone speak to you or recruit servants to do his bidding. Alas here you are actually living it and being calmer than you ever thought you'd be; maybe you're also losing it and you simply don't know it. Don't get you wrong, you are scared shitless, but right now it's answers you need, more than running around in circles screaming for help. What a great story it would make though, if you ever managed to get out of this hellhole.
Eventually, you swallow hard and trying to appear as confident and calm as you weren't –but still tried to be–, you nod at Hoody solemnly.
'I can't really explain how the fuck this happened...but it sure happened and nothing in all the years of humanity as I knew it could....come across something like your boss.' You nod 'He didn't speak to me exactly...... even through all the screaming and pain his presence gave me..... the static did translate into words and I know what he wants from me.' you swallow hard on the knot forming in your throat 'So.... he wants me to help you out with your situation. He told me that you are to allow me access to whatever is needed and necessary to get to the bottom of this and only if I pull this through will he allow me to leave and return home. Until then, I'll answer to him. If I run, he'll kill me. If I don't, I'll walk out when everything is done...Like nothing ever happened... Understood? He said I'll walk!'
A scoff erupts 'Like hell B-bossman'll let you walk.' Toby mocks you 'You're too stupidly naïve, gorgeous.'
'So you're saying your boss doesn't follow through with his word?' you steadily challenge him back, throwing him a glare and into your accusation the man returns to silence once again. Even if you didn't exactly know what the creature was, you guessed insubordinance or badmouthing him would mean death for anybody involved.
You turn your gaze back at Hoody 'So do we have a deal here? I'll help you with whatever you need, you'll leave me alone.'
Hoody remains passive and completely silent while Masky is the one to finally break the silence.
'Hoody isn't going to give any word _____. It's my answer you are seeking.' He warns in a tone that makes the whole room drop a few degrees and your heart to sink in your chest.
Still, he manages to draw the first unamused chuckle since forever from you. It felt alien to laugh, it felt wrong inside this particular situation you were in, but if those people –in all their insanity– thought you were completely stupid or blind, they were fatally wrong. They weren't the only ones studying you as you spoke; they weren't the only ones to draw conclusions about your own self. No matter how scared or beat up you were, being blind to all the obvious and discreet messages they were sending was surely not the case. If you knew anything in all your life, if paranoia helped you in some way all these months, was the simple fact of sharpening your ability to read through the lines and correctly evaluate the situations. It had helped you tremendously in the past and being a second nature by now, would surely help you in the present as well.
So you chuckle and when Masky seems taken aback, leaning back a bit and searching his comrades masked faces for answers, you feel the need to elaborate. Let's not fry his brain all in one go. Not yet at least.
'At first one could say you're the leader Masky, since you're sitting on the head of the table and all, speaking clearly and asking questions to draw information from me. But for the duration of our little conversation you've been leaning back and forth constantly in your chair, messing with your hair, resting and pulling your hands from the table in a continuous loop; which only betrays your need to draw out as many information as you can, overruled by anxiety and uncertainty when you get nothing. Right now you checked the other two for validation and backing up to your seeming threat. Fidgeting betrays lack of confidence and one only can imagine what the lack of it would do in a dire situation.
'On the contrary, Toby right here' you point on the goggled man 'Could pass as arrogant –and probably is by the lean back on his chair– but he's folded his hands over his chest. It's an unconscious way to protect your vital organs when one feels threatened. Also he's impulsive, which qualifies for a bad leader.' You simply shrug and turn once again at Hoody.
'And then, there's you Hoody. You're currently leaning back in your chair, hands hidden in the pockets of your jeans and your legs are spread open under the table; you're exposing all of your vital organs and vulnerable spots because you instinctively know no one is going to fuck with you. Posture relaxed, but spine is straight and shoulders relaxed. Masky asked the questions but I'm sure he looked at you after each and every one of them to make sure everything was exactly as you previously discussed. Also you asked nothing, simply laying back unsuspecting and listening in; getting the necessary info without soiling your hands. So yeah, do we have a fucking deal Hoody? Will you let me walk when Slenderman gives the okay to go?'
Silence is all that follows your words.
All three males remain completely silent, some of them looking at you and some looking at each other. From your point, you keep glaring at the hooded male straight on, as if you're in some invisible eye contest and the one to break contact first loses; under the hood with the painted frown and eyes you are surer the man is also staring back than the possibility of the sun rising from the East. Yet you won't back down since you're sure you are right. So you remain there, inside the deathly silence that falls upon all of you like a sheet of the coldest mist; if you dropped a single pin on the ground right now, you're sure it'd reverberate like a gunshot and truly enough, the twitching and popping sounds erupting from Toby's joints does sound louder than expected.
Eventually, Hoody turns to Masky.
'I can certainly see what Master chose in her. We can proceed with the information briefing.' He turns to you 'When Master says so, I will let you go. No sooner, no later.'
It is as if a huge weight was lifted from your chest. As you lean back in the chair, watching as the men shuffle closer to the table in order to get the briefing done and quickly at that, it is the first time since you met them that you can breathe a little better. It was exactly as you thought it would be: if Slenderman gave the okay, you'd walk out of here as unscratched as one can get, so it's but a small victory for you. Of course that didn't mean in the slightest you were secure and protected at any point; these people must be highly unstable and ready to snap your neck at any given time, so letting your guard down even for a second would result with your head on the plate. Jesus woman, speak about bad luck! Just a tad more and if you play in the lottery, they're gonna ask to pay rather than give won money. I mean, being summoned by a supernatural being lurking in some random woods in order to help him sounded just as crazy as it was; you waited patiently for the alarm clock to blaze in full glory and wake you up from this weird dream, but the more time you spend here, the more you realized it wasn't just a fucked up dream. Masky pulls out a piece of paper, opening and laying it on the bloody table to reveal a map, while Toby stands up and makes his way towards you.
Immediately your anxiety and fear skyrocket, as your brain goes completely empty and the sirens of impending danger sound. Your jaw drops to the floor and your eyes become as big as two dinner plates when you see him reach for his sharp hatchet; one look on your terrified face as you violently start jerking away and giggles fill the room. What the fuck! They need you! You're going to help them aren't you?! Why is he drawing the hatchet?! Why-
There's a sharp, silvery flash and the bindings keeping your right hand down on the chair become loose. Freezing like a deer in headlights, all you can do is stare into the distance as Toby unbinds you completely, carelessly scraping the hatchet against your skin here and there; it hurts but having him tower over you like an ominous nightmare, almost completely covering your petite form with his dangerous own has you completely frozen and all sarcastic remarks are promptly thrown out the window. Instead you remain as still as one can get, avoiding to even look up at the deranged man who keeps laughing at you darkly; when he's sure you're free, he leans down towards you while stashing away his hatchet, to whisper slowly in your ear.
'Not s-s-so brave now, huh?' his shoulder ticks and pops sharply in your ear 'Good k-kitty, you learnt your m-manners. Y-you o-o-ooze fear. S-so good~!' he makes an exasperated inhaling sound and you almost jump in your seat.
'Fuck you loony.' You whisper, but your voice is as terrified as you and the man only laughs, darkly amused.
'S-so eager! M-m-maybe later g-gorgeous.' He chuckles ominously, dragging the 'm' a little bit further than normal, suggestively.
Officially speaking, you're fucking screwed gurl! Poof, done, screwed, maybe run for the hills, maybe just decide to die already and let your soul fly out like in anime. Maybe it was the last comment, maybe was the slurping sound coming from under the mouthguard to accompany it, or maybe the smell of blood covering the atmosphere was to blame for the twists and turns your stomach made, threatening you with emptying it at any given moment. Your witty comment had returned with a vengeance to bite you hard on the butt and the man looming over you took complete advantage of the leverage you gave him; his goggles shine once again and you'd swear you caught a glimpse of an eye underneath before he straightened his back again, gave you a small salute and returned to his seat, plopping down and prompting his feet on the table like he fucking owned the place, eyes never straying from your form. Leaving you back to marvel on how fucked you were, hopefully only metaphorically because the cringe and horror was real if it was in any other case. You felt dirty; a wild shiver travels down your spine and you feel like you want to take a bleach bath to wash away all the dirt on you.
'Now that introduction is behind us.' Masky speaks up, breaking you away from your trance and reminding you where you were and what you were doing 'This is a rough map of the Slender Woods ( ).'
'This is the entirety of Slenderman's domain.' Hoody adds as Masky points in the very center and on what appeared to be a mapped building.
'We're currently here, on the Slender Mansion which is the Headquarters for all Proxies. Only four of us live here, all high-ranked and getting our orders directly from Master. We are the base of operations and responsible for managing the rest of the Proxies. Many Proxies live out in towns and cities across the globe, but few clans of Proxies live in these eight outposts' he points at eight other buildings on the edges of the forest 'Making sure nothing goes in the Woods that doesn't belong here.'
You nod solemnly 'Alright, fair enough up until now.' You say, trying to get a grip once again while still a bit shook. Your eyes travel over your body, only to find that your hands are securely wrapped in bandages along with the majority of your chest and stomach; your clothes are dirtied and torn in various places, but still cover your body securely.
Masky straightens his back and looks at you, his mask hiding his eyes behind clothed holes 'Normally, we are all keeping tabs on one another at all times, but in the past few months, several Proxies have gone missing.' He explains evenly, drawing your attention back to the conversation 'It started with one, then three, then ten and now a whole outpost has completely disappeared without a single trace. We checked it and found nothing.'
'I'll take a wild guess and say you want me to take a look.'
'B-bingo!' Toby interrupts Masky before the other man has the chance to explain 'Master said y-you're the r-real deal, s-s-o you're here t-to d-discover where the f-f-fuckers run off to.'
'We don't know what happened Toby!' Masky sighs exasperatedly, resting a hand over his mask, done with this conversation, done with the ticking man, done with life in general 'There's no evidence they ran off or shit like that. They simply puffed up in smoke.'
Tilting your head to the side, you examine the map from your spot 'I don't know how though. I'm not a tracker in any way. I'm only a reporter for God's sake, what do I have to do with finding them?' you honestly say, watching their masked faces to pick up any traces of emotions.
Even if it was dangerous to say that out loud, you had to be honest with them from the start in order to avoid a more violent approach when you failed to give them any new information. You were not the best in tracking people or tracking in general, so why the hell would they find you for such a job? It was really, really bad from the start and you were only terrified of the consequences it was going to have on you.
Hoody is the one to speak up this time 'We do not care what you are or who you are. You came here to help us with tracking them down and you will do just that. After we are done here, we will take you to their outpost to check on things. If you prove to be... useless... one can only imagine we will have no use for you and you will already have too much information about us. Put two and two together and you will find out what the likely outcome to that scenario will be. Wherever you go, we will find you faster than you think. Just like we did before.'
His voice is even and unwavering as he says that, but the effect he wanted it to have surely hit you across the face like a hard slap from Jessie Ventura.
Instinctively, you bite down on your lips as realization started dawning on you.
You'd have to try as hard as you can to actually survive this nightmare.
~ * * ~
After the little chat you four had over cookies and tea, they finally take you out of the dimply lit and bloody basement.
Honestly, you were prepared to see literally the worst things outside the dreadful room: broken in walls filled with blood and guts hanging from the ceiling like some cheap splatter movie the studio simply gave up to make it realistic after a while, or maybe a skull or two tossed around in the corners of the corridors. A decaying, rotting body or two; maybe a torturing device rusting and covered in old blood just for the dark Tumblr aesthetic... I mean, they are deranged killers that stalked and hunted you down like an animal for all those months, are they not?
So you can only imagine your surprise the moment you are rushed out of the basement and onto a well-lit corridor. Everything around you was made out of old wood that was worn out in quite a few places, allowing the paint to peel off the walls –and even with a few unidentified dark spots here and there– but the strong sunlight invading through the huge windows placed along the corridor, looking towards the huge pine trees just a few meters away, would not betray the place was inhabited by lunatics, but rather it was just another run down house barely holding it together. Truly, the long corridor had nothing to betray ill-intent and on your left it descended towards what appeared to be another huge corridor, while on your left it lead towards a huge open space and the front door; poor attempts to clean the place up and keep it functional were made –someone had covered a broken window with duct tape, while a hole in the wall was poorly covered by a single wooden plank messily nailed on it. Still huge amounts of dust hang in the air, while the foul odor of mould reached your nostrils in a disgusting mixture that had you sneezing.
All three men appeared to relax somehow the moment you were out in the sunny house: Toby threw his hands behind his neck and wandered off towards the vast space on your right, while Hoody exchanged a few quiet words with Masky before venturing further inside the house on your left. As for the white masked male, he ordered you to follow him and walked off towards the direction Toby had disappeared to. To tell you the truth, they kind of scared you more when they appeared relaxed; Toby's hatchets gleamed in the strong light and you could still see the blood dripping off from them, while Hoody's clothes were stained with quite a bit of blood you guessed was there for quite a while. Masky was the only one kind of blood-free, but let's be honest here, he could turn and slap you into tomorrow in the blink of an eye. So you had seriously tried to make yourself appear as small as one can get, merge with the wall behind you, become a literal wallflower, whatever dude, you simply wanted to become invisible. Only to yelp in surprise when Masky spoke to you.
He didn't wait though; the moment the order to follow him was given he walked off as well, sure you'd be following close by. Hesitantly, you tried to do just that; not wanting to test the limits of their patience, you slowly peel yourself away from the wall and walk behind him, trying to keep an eye out for any potential danger from any given corner. Your legs seem alien to you as you take a few testing steps and realize you are wobbling quite a bit; being strapped into a chair for what appeared like forever did you no favors and now that you were able to think clearly, the hunger and thirst were back and with a vengeance.
With your stomach rumbling wildly, you obediently follow Masky only to find yourself in a huge living room. On your right there was a wooden grand staircase which lead to the upper floor; you could actually hear it creak even if nobody was walking on it, while in the small living room on your right everything was absolutely worn away and dusty, with the sofa facing the small TV –which was right next to a huge marble fireplace– on your right appearing ready to fall apart completely at any given second. Believe it or not, the TV was one of the old ones with actual antennas on top. Toby was lying leisurely on the sofa, boot propped on the flimsy coffee table changing through the channels and ticking here and there. It was an almost normal picture and it gave you the chills. Thankfully he didn't even acknowledge your presence as you walked by, instead he pulled out one of his hatchets and after briefly searching through his pockets withdrew something and begun sharpening it.
Alrighty then, what's more normal than a killer sharpening his hatchet while watching Ben10?
Then again, what the absolute fuck was normal at this point.
Without a second glance back, you go through the adjoining door Masky had disappeared through, only to find yourself inside an ancient kitchen. There was a large wooden table on your left next to the window, while on your right were the counters, fridge and an old stove where Masky was currently stirring something in a small pot. There was less dust in here, betraying it was used most of the time, while the appliances seemed to come out of another century. Warily, you stand by the door, unable to decide what the fuck you are to do with yourself.
'Sit down.' He says and adds 'Make yourself comfortable.' Masky turns at you as he stirs, his tone a bit bossy but quite mellowed down from before; it sounded less than an actual order and more like an offer.
Carefully, you slide towards the table, keeping your eyes nailed on the back of the threatening male as he keeps cooking away, and choose the farthest chair you can actually find right below the window; whatever happened you could make a quick escape yolo-ing by jumping out and to be sure nothing was going to jump you, you make sure to switch your gaze between the man and the door, ready to jump on your feet if need be. Masky murmurs a song to himself and whatever he was cooking has your stomach rumbling like a volcano. Damn, you could eat your whole family right now...
'Our supplies are a bit low these days, so I'm afraid we only have porridge.' He comments unexpectedly, pulling you out of your thoughts with a violent start.
Swallowing hard, you try to occupy as little space on your chair as you can, keeping your eyes on his back and then on the door, listening intently to hear any approaching footsteps. Thankfully for your nerves, other than the male right in front of you, no one else wants to mess with you further and you are left with only one of your kidnappers to deal with.
'How long was I down there?' you dare ask, fidgeting with your thumbs nervously.
'Three days. I patched up your wounds the best I could, but you didn't wake up until yesterday. Thankfully, with Master's powers you are healing quicker than before. Other than your ribs and nose, most of your wounds are completely healed.' He says and pours some of the porridge on a plate, before bringing it to you on the table along with some water.
He rests them there along with a spoon and sits down right across from you, leaning back in his chair with his impassive white mask betraying nothing and unnerving you for that. A chill creeps up your spine and you feel the hair in the back of our head stand up under the gaze you could not see. Averting your eyes, you look at the food and the glass wearily; no matter how much you want to dig in and eat the plate as well, who reassured you this wasn't some trick to have you poisoned or something like that? Yet the rich smell tickling your senses is enough to make your mouth water again and again. Almost having you drool over the table. Looking at it like hyenas with rabies when they see some necks. Minutes pass and your mind is actually battling with itself. Eat gurl! No, they'll poison you and it won't get pretty! But you're drooling! Yes, who wouldn't?! Maybe just a small bite? But what if you die a horrible death?
'Oh, for God's sake!' Masky exclaims and reaching out, he grabs the untouched spoon roughly.
Pulling the plate closer to him, for the first time you see him reach for his mask and move it just enough to reveal his mouth. You weren't sure what you expected to see under the mask, so the pale skin and the normal mouth took you by surprise a little bit as the man shoves a spoonful of porridge in his mouth and then takes a swing of the water under your watchful eyes. You tried not to stare, really you tried, but the whole situation was absolutely surreal and you couldn't help it. As soon as the spoon is down and the gulp of water drawn, he quickly repositions his mask and shoves the food towards you.
'Are you positive now that I didn't poison it?' he bitterly asks and sheepishly, you nod.
'Can't be too careful...' you say as you shove the first spoonful in your mouth with glee. In the first bite an explosion of flavors overrides your senses and it feels like it's the first time you've tasted porridge in your life. Heavenly. Absolutely delicious. Or you're so hungry right now that even dirt seems appetizing.
In response, he nods solemnly as he watches you eat 'Still you didn't wipe the spoon off. How do you know I don't have a disease or something?' he sarcastically throws at you, yet the more you eat the more your senses reinforce themselves; there's a faint tint of amusement in his voice as he leans back leisurely in his chair.
'HIV is transmitted only via blood you know. So I think I'm good.' You simply shrug and almost choke on your bite.
His shoulders tense abruptly 'I don't have Aids.' He barks out at your coughing form.
Another shrug 'How do I know?' you stab your porridge with bitterness 'I'm inside an old house having a normal conversation with one of my kidnappers. Pretty much nothing can surprise me anymore.'
Now he really chuckles. The sound is deep, hearty and muffled due to the mask but enough to send a shiver down your spine.
'I wouldn't be so sure if I were you.' he simply says, clearly amused.
'For a strange reason, I believe you.' you say, bringing the glass to your lips and down the whole thing in one go. Small rivulets fall from the sides as you gulp it down like there's no tomorrow, which you wipe down with the back of your hand when you are done. As you do, you never fail to notice Masky still staring at you; what was he thinking you had absolutely no clue, but it definitely wasn't good...
'You didn't answer me though' you speak up, gathering whatever courage you had left for the sake of gaining much needed information 'What is a Sleeper? Because I doubt it has anything to do with liking sleep or being sleepy all the time. Which is like... half of my life.' avoiding to look at him, you carefully weave your question with a veil of indifference; it usually made people talk when they needed to explain things the listener had no intention of hearing and they needed to boast.
Masky sighs deeply and by the sound, you know he is carefully weighting his words 'And why should I give you this information? It doesn't affect you as I see it. Your deal with Master is a completely different contract.'
Apparently, he wasn't as naïve as you thought he was.
'Lack of information will only lead to mistakes.' You simply state.
Another chuckle 'Not as I see it. Either way, there're things you'll need to see to understand. Try not to lose your mind in the process.' He warns lightly.
There was surprising truthfulness in his words; you actually believed there was so much more you're going to see, things you feared they were going to stay with you even after this nightmare would be long over –if it's going to be over–, but as you contemplate it, the door of the kitchen opens and Hoody is standing in the opening. Both you and Masky turn to him and you almost drop the spoon with your last bite as Masky tenses and falls into soldier mode. Yet Hoody doesn't even acknowledge your presence, only turns to address the other male in an urgent manner.
'Once she is done, we will leave. It is wise not to be caught in the open when night falls.' He calmly informs him and leaves.
As soon as the order was given, there was not a single chance for anything to go wrong or against what Hoody had instructed in any way. Picking up your plate, you were rushed to your feet and forced to follow the rest of the men in the living room; Hoody was already waiting patiently by the door, checking the map they had shown you before at the same time with a small clock he withdrew from his pocket. Toby was casually leaning against the door, brown hatchet in his hand which he swung carelessly. Given zero time to do anything but see the door open, you were rushed on the cold air of the dense forest prevailing around you like a true jungle. Honestly, you had no idea where the premises of the house ended and the forest started with the way nature had invaded everything around her. The scenery seems a bit different from anything you had seen; reminding you vaguely of the forest you saw when Slenderman visited you in that haunting, hellish meadow. Surprisingly, as you turn your head back to look at the house you just went out of, you are taken aback by how big ( ) and how run down it truly was; consisting of three floors, many of the windows were broken and the majority of the roof had given in, yet it still withheld an aura of grandiose. The flora had started to threaten the walls, taking over the few marble steps and growing on the roof lavishly. As usual, a few attempts were made to restore some of the major problems –like broken windows and walls– but it made no difference whatsoever.
Still, there was no time to gaze at the house any longer. With Masky and Hoody leading the way through a path only they could see, a small voice whispered in your mind to quicken your pace not to fall behind where Toby was following you. So, you sheepishly keep walking behind them, making sure you hurry your ass like your life depended on it. If anything, being close to Toby after the beat up you endured was like inviting Michel Myers for cookies and tea. Yeah, not happening. It was enough feeling his gaze melting away your back and the lack of any comments for a strange reason unnerved you even more than the threatening words. Maybe he was planning how to kill you. No, scratch that, he was definitely plotting how to kill you. Nobody plans a murder out loud, am I right?
Yet the more you wander into the forest, the more you are hypersensitive about the things happening around you. Suddenly it's not the presence of your kidnappers that sends wild shivers down your spine, but the total lack of any kind of sound; not even your own footsteps are able to reach your ears and no matter how intently you look around you, only the four of you are the living creatures existing inside. It seems as if the silence drowns everything inside her numbing embrace and there are no forest creatures lurking around the trunks of the insanely huge trees. Even the wind filtering through the rich foliage passes without touching anything, not whispering alluring things, but dragging with it the feeling of eyes nailed on all of you; it was like the whole forest was alive, watching your every move and following close behind in order to snatch your souls at any given chance. It didn't help that the trees were twice the size of the tallest tree you had ever seen and the canopy covered the sky, only allowing specks of sunlight submerge the forest into a lethargic, ambient light with no spark. Even the colours were duller and almost lifeless, like something had sucked the joy and beauty out of them, clinging onto them like miasma.
Forcing your legs to move, you can't help but stare warily all around you, not wanting to be in here a second longer; even the house seemed better than this. There was no way to mark a certain tree or a special rock to help you find the way back or even navigate in here and you had no clue how easily the Proxies seemed to move, like they could feel nothing while you were scared out of your wits. It seemed like the way dragged on and on, until at some point, you reached a small house almost completely hidden by the flora growing on the trees. ( )
Being two stories high, the Victorian style surprised you, in contrast with the haunting aura of the Mansion. This too seemed abandoned but better preserved than the other house, but the darkness and complete silence prevailing told you this one indeed was abandoned; two windows were open but no movement came from inside, while the front door was half open, like someone left in a hurry.
Masky and Hoody stop just in front of the steps and their masked faces turn to you expectantly, you guessed.
'What am I supposed to do?' you ask sheepishly, eyeing the dreadful house like it was ready to devour you or explode. Or both.
Masky shoves his hands in his pockets 'See if you can find a clue as to what happened. Where did the Proxies go or who took them. Plain enough even for humans.'
You cock an eyebrow; he said that as if he wasn't a human like you....
'D-do your t-tricks g-g-gorgeous and you m-might survive.' Came the obnoxious comment from behind you 'M-m-maybe we can train her; w-would you like a dog biscuit f-f-for every info you gi-ve?'
Snapping your head back, you meet with him head on and cockily you tilt your waist to the side 'You know what-'
'This is not the time' Hoody interrupts you before you cursed out 'Let her do her job.'
For a single second you and Toby continue your stare contest –orange goggles vs e/c orbs– but eventually the murderous man straightens his back and looks away. Don't be fooled, you surely didn't win, things are going to come back to bite you in the ass the next time he has the upper hand. Oh boy. Masky and Hoody seemed already rather impatient, so you decide not to test them any further; that would come later on. For now, let's see what there's to find in his hellhole.
Snapping your jaw closed in dismay, you inhale deeply as you take a somewhat steady step forward, resting your hands on your waist in a desperate attempt to calm down your rising 'I'm shitting my pants right now and ain't nothin' I can do 'bout it'.
'How long are they gone?'
'A few months.' Masky answers.
'Alrighty.' You whisper 'Hit it Dolly.'
Nodding to no one in particular, you inhale deeply and when you release it, you are in full Sherlock mode as your editor liked to call it and it had helped you quite a bit in a few interviews.
Indeed, the house appeared abandoned for quite a while; as you venture mindfully up the few stairs, the fallen leaves rotting in your path revealed they had fallen here undisturbed for quite a while as they crunch under your feet, sounding like bombs exploding in the deathly silence of the abandoned 'grave' before you. Stopping in front of the half opened door, you examine it with interest, tilting your head to the side and furrowing your eyebrows. Hmmm, maybe the other Proxy who visited the property could leave it like this as they exited. Maybe it was opened wide and the wind pushed it half-way. Carefully, you raise your foot to push it open; the door creaks and obeys your command with a bit of difficulty on your side, as you realize it was heavier than expected and insanely dusted. The creaking sound echoes hollowly in the bereft of any life house and a wild shiver travels down to your toes as all of you four stand in the threshold.
Is Freddy Krueger home?
Please don't answer that.
Does no one clean around here?
Helloooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo?
Being a mutt to our dark Lord Mr. Tentacles equates to instant loss of dry-cleaner and house-cleaner passes?
As the house slowly reveals itself to you, your eyes wander on the rather simple layout. Everything is made out of extremely decaying beech wood, which has probably reached the end of its wooden capacities resulting into tears and holes on the walls and ceiling, reaching all the way to the distant roof; whatever paint was on the walls had already been covered by the colors of time and mould, while you could still see the spots were paintings once stood by the marking they had left behind. On your left, there is a small room that is barren and occupied solely by the wooden staircase leading upstairs, while on your right is what you guessed was the living room and further in, the considerably dark kitchen. The wooden floor was completely covered in dust and leaves that were rushed in through the wide open windows; the wooden floor creaked painfully loudly as you stepped inside, wandering around the house with the Proxies right behind you. Hoody decides to leisurely stand on the doorframe of the living room in a nonchalant way that could stop you from any attempts to make a run for it, while Toby is looking around towards the stairs; Masky is right behind you, annoyingly close and almost breathing down on your neck.
You roll your eyes and keep looking.
All the windows were open on the base floor while a weird aroma of dust, rust and something earthly reached your nose faint but enough to have you scrunch it in curious disgust; it seems as if it comes off the walls and it surrounds you so completely, it's difficult to see where it originates from. Walking in the abandoned living room slowly and deliberately with each step you take, other than a dusty sofa and a few forgotten bottles on the coffee table, there was nothing that betrayed someone had stayed there other than a forgotten sleeping bag tossed against the corner of the wall. You raise your eyebrows in surprise mixed with curiosity as you keep looking around the room, slowly passing in the kitchen which was better in state than the one back in the Mansion. Here, the windows are also open, allowing the wind to course inside and looking over to the side of the house, towards thick foliage of greeneries someone could easily pick as a spot to hide. All the chairs are missing from around the table, while dirty plates lie forgotten on the sink. Upon opening the drawers, you discover a few supplies but the moment you open the fridge both you and Masky take an immediate step back at the foul odor; whatever they had left inside it had rotten completely and as you made the mistake of opening the door it fell upon you like a cloud of nastiness. Your stomach turned and you gagged audibly, rushing to close it back up.
'W-what the fuck died in here?' a popping sound comes from behind you and Toby has stepped in, waving his hand in front of his mouthguard to swat away the smell.
'We found your corpse in the fridge.' Masky mocks him.
'Did you get anything?' Hoody asks impatiently from the other room.
You bite down on your lip 'I.....I don't know....' You reply honestly, heart pounding restlessly inside your chest; please don't kill you yet, don't kill you 'There's something strange going on.'
'Like?' the hooded male demands.
'Like why is the door half opened if they left in a hurry and why isn't it closed if they didn't leave? Why are all the windows open in both cases and who would leave the supplies behind if they up and left the place, never to look back?' you question no one in particular, scratching your head as you look around 'The sleeping bag is a necessity inside this forest in case they fled...'
As you voice your thoughts out loud, you completely forget for the first time since you met them, the presence of the Proxies and make a beeline back towards the hallway almost in a trance; following the path one resident of the house could have taken, you picture yourself living in here, wandering inside these halls and calling this place your home. You'd know all of its secrets. All the little crevices, the places that creak, the holes and the peeling paint that hangs from the ceiling. You'd call it a home none the less and return to it, to the only familiarity you'd have left. How would you fill it with traces of your existence, of you actually being here. But other than the kitchen and the living room, the rest ground floor had literally nothing but leaves and dirt accumulating in the corners. Nothing betrayed people stayed here and to be completely honest, even the three murderous Proxies trailing behind you had in some way decorated their quarters, no matter how poorly or scarcely; it is in our human nature to want to decorate our private spaces with things that make us feel more at ease. So what happened here? Biting down on your lip, you don't hesitate even for a single second as you grab a hold of the wooden handrail and walk up the stairs hastily. Heavy footsteps follow behind you, but right now you couldn't care less about the Proxies when the first floor of the house reveals itself to you.
There are three rooms before you and a small door which you guessed lead to the only bathroom inside the small house. Rich sunlight came in through the open windows and the hole on the ceiling, illuminating the small bedrooms majestically, which are adorned only by a few mattresses carelessly thrown along the walls. One bedroom after the other, the mattresses vary from two to four in the largest bedroom, but here the scenery is exactly the same as before: all clothes, sleeping bags, glasses or signs of anyone living here were absent, leaving an eerie emptiness behind. If you weren't told someone used to live in here you'd think this was but another abandoned house like the rest of the other ones, scattered along the American countryside and succumbing into nature.
Walking inside one of the bedrooms, you scan the whole place up to find any clues that could help you and go as far as to crouch near a mattress, closely examining it. It was old and worn out in a way that created a true dent in the middle of it and various stains of decay adorned it; yet as you look at it, the sunlight dancing on the edges of your vision draws your attention. Instinctively, you follow the glow and discover your very first clue: if you hadn't crouched down you wouldn't be able to see it and honestly, it was the only clue you had.
Abruptly, you spring on your feet, turning to look at the three Proxies.
'They didn't leave the house. The people you're looking for, they didn't leave.' You exclaim triumphantly and point at the mattress urgently 'Flip it for me please. Actually, flip all the mattresses!'
Masky and Hoody exchange a long gaze as they consider your words; the seconds seem like centuries going by before Hoody nods laconically and Masky does as he's told. Taking a step aside, you allow the bulky male to reach the mattress easily, bending down and grabbing a hold of the side, he flips it with little to no effort. The mattress hits the wall and raises a small cloud of dust as it turns.
Revealing exactly what you expected to see.
Toby whistles sharply and Masky swears a bit under his mask, passing a rough hand through his dark locks 'It's completely drenched in blood.' He announces.
'No, not entirely.' You shake your head vigorously and point at the dark stains of the already dried up blood beginning to explain things to the three men.
'Yes, this is actually blood' you point vaguely at the various spots 'But if you can see, most of the blood is accumulated towards the left side of the mattress and near the window; if you examine closely the dent created by the body sleeping here for years on this very mattress, I guarantee you he or she slept with his/her feet towards the door.' You shrug 'Which would only give the advantage of not being hit in the damn head if an intruder gets in, so the blood is solely limited to the upper side of the body. Still, despite the huge spots of blood here and here.' you point at the three dark spots along the cloth 'The rest of it –and the few that have stained the floor– is but little drops. My best guess is that it's coughed up, which only means the person sleeping here was extremely sick if they were coughing up blood. The mattress right next to this one also has the same spots but it's too far away to be from the same person. He might be coughing up his lungs if the blood of one person reached all the way to the other side of the room...'
Hoody and Masky exchange another long look but honestly, right now you're on fucking fire with all the pieces falling in place inside your mind and you spare no moment for them to take in all the wave of information.
Excitement courses wildly inside your veins, energizing you like hot lava and you jump to your feet.
'Notice how the whole floor is clean though. Despite the leaves from the obviously open windows, there are no other traces of any small trash or cloth or even footsteps along the way. Think about it! You want to leave this place; you don't care of what you leave behind unless it's for survival! All the food is still here and there are no footsteps on the dirty floor. Which means, someone must have cleaned the whole place up but they can't be more than one; the residents of this house should be more than simply severely ill to be moved at all so someone must have moved them and cleaned up afterwards! But, they mustn't have gone far right? I mean, I'm coughing up blood and probably only two or one of my comrades are well enough to carry us all outside so how far can one get am I right?'
'G-g-got ourselves a t-true fucking brainiac.' Toby comments, leaning on the doorframe and folding his hands over his chest, his orange goggles flashing in the sunlight.
But Hoody nods 'It is possible to be carried out, but we would have found them.'
'So they didn't leave the house huh?' Masky sighs and turns to you 'Where are they then?'
The smile spreading over your lips must be a wicked one 'Is there a basement?'
'Lead the way down ______.' Masky nods towards the stairs.
Sparing not a single moment more inside the room, all of you rush to get to the basement and possibly discover what exactly happened to the Proxies. To say you felt elated for all the information you managed to give them would be the understatement of the century; honestly, you didn't know how close to the truth you had reached, but no matter which point of view you tried to think things from, this was the only scenario that made any sense. The people in here were not moved too far away because they couldn't in their state to do so. With that kind of blood loss, they would barely be able to stand on their own two feet much less leave and clean behind them. So that only meant you were right and the more you find the clues, the more steps you take towards salvation. One step closer to freedom, one step closer towards leaving behind this nightmare.
Your hasty steps pound against the wooden staircase, which creaks loudly as you descend.
Only to stop abruptly before you step down.
Instinctively, you freeze.
'What happened ____?' comes Masky's voice from behind you and you snap your head towards them.
Toby is right behind you, two steps behind, while Masky and Hoody are close behind.
'Toby, move a little bit around your step.' You advice and the murderous man cocks his head to the side.
'W-why the f-f-fuck should I d-d-o that gorgeous?' he questions and you see an eyebrow rise in defiance, making you roll your eyes.
'Do it!' both Masky and Hoody yell at him unanimously.
Surprisingly enough, the man shuts his mouth and under your surprised gaze, he swifts his weight from one foot to the other. The staircase creaks like a dying cat. With your eyes widening, you do the same but no sound comes out despite the fact you are still high up in the staircase.
Raising your head, you see three masked faces looking at you.
'Something's under the stairs.' You breathlessly inform them and hit the step with the heel of your foot.
A muffled sound comes out.
What happens next could very easily be pushed inside a mere single fraction of a second. Realization dawns inside the minds of the Proxies and you swear you hear them click before all of them are placed into action mode; Toby rushes in the front first, roughly pushing you against the wall as he passes you quickly, jumping the rest of the steps down and withdrawing his hatchet from his side, the blade gleaming on the sunlight. Masky is second, yelling at Toby not to rush into things and make sure to open the staircase up carefully, in case he destroyed whatever evidence they had. Toby lets out a pearl of laughter and flips the white-masked man off. Hoody is the only one that really acknowledges your existence, grabbing you harshly by the arm and shoving you down the stairs were the other two are waiting. His grip is painful and you flinch, instinctively trying to jerk away but he only tightens it more as he pulls you roughly to stand beside him while Toby is leaning against the walls of the staircase, carefully hitting the wooden wall.
The first two knocks come out with a hollow sound.
The third one is muffled.
Without spending a single second, he grabs a strong hold of the hatchet and raises it over his head, making your breath stop inside your lungs. Iron meets with wood mercilessly and the latter splinters heavily, giving out under the sheer strength of the goggled man who raises it yet again. He keeps hitting the wood with wild abandon, until a narrow hole forms; Toby lowers his hatchet back to his waist and with a gloved hand he grabs the wood and pulls.
The plank is torn from its hinges and is promptly thrown to the other side.
A shadow flashes before the four of you, followed by a thudding sound.
Your head turns and your mouth draws in a sharp breath.
Time stops for a single second before a loud scream erupts through the house and you realize it's you who's screaming horrified beyond your mind, unable to comprehend what you're actually seeing.
Gazing straight at the hollow eye sockets of the corpse rotting right before your very eyes.