Thunder erupts loudly above the house, drenching everything in white light, followed by the insistent whipping of the rain against the trees.
It doesn't scare you in the least, but there is absolutely no way to control the shaking of your hand.
For what seemed like the hundred time, the soup falls from the shaking spoon and your stomach grumbles like a pterodactyl in heat as you swear heavily in your head and try once again, from the beginning. Choo choo for the Orient Express bitches, the light in the end of the tunnel is the train coming to give us a nice hug. You just can't get your fucking hand to cooperate with you and the food keeps falling back into the bowl, leaving you to curse every single thing that ever existed or didn't. I mean, c'mon you fucking piece of shit, it's already been two days since you almost took a leap of faith down the balcony and your state hasn't gotten any better.
Fuck this shit.
Throwing the spoon somewhere in the grass, you bring the bowl to your lips and very carefully, like you don't have Parkinson's, you rest your lips to the side and gulp down a good mouthful of the warm liquid like Uma Thurman in Kill Bill. Almost immediately, your Teacher-throat inflames to punish you, scorching hot feeling spreading like wildfire as the soup goes down and bringing tears to your eyes; but you'll starve if you continue like this and the warmth will eventually soothe down the ache. After a few more good mouthfuls -that's what she said- you rest the bowl to the side and allow your head to lean on the wooden column right beside you. Closing your eyes, you relish at the feeling of the cold wind against your skin as you rest on the front patio, overlooking the forest, wrapped inside the warm blanket you have to protect yourself at night.
It has been raining since the day you came back from the Proxy house; loud thunder erupts through the whole forest, making the mere ground you are standing upon shake violently, before the flashing lighting turns the night into day. Cold winds and torrential downpour have turned the once dry soil into a huge puddle, forcing the Proxies to remain inside and reflecting the rage Slenderman must be feeling. Mist clings insistently among the trees and you can only find some peace of mind here, in the front veranda, listening to the rain with closed eyes.
I mean, you know it's as clever as going up to a murderer's face and spitting on it like there is no tomorrow, to relax and actually close your eyes but who lost his fucks for you to find huh? So bring it on bro, put you out of your misery and you'll make sure to thank him from your throne in hell for putting you out of your misery. E. T. is done with your shit. As if by some miracle, the Proxies have left you alone for the time being, since let's be real here: where the fuck will you run off to? The Woods? You'd rather chop off your own feet and cook them like the Salt Bae does than be alone in these nightmarish woods and since you were attacked by Michael, you're too loud in your steps for them to know if you're going to the kitchen to out yourself. Or use some other object. Or go to the bathroom. Or breathe in general.
Opening your eyes again, you watch the rain whip the tree trunks and move along with every little twist of the powerful wind.
Two days had gone by since the incidents in the Proxy house up north and lemme tell you dude, if you ever thought these assholes could get any more emo or Freddy Krueger-ish, this was the time. At first it was all fun and games that Hoody ordered for the alarm to be signaled -and deep within you, you thought it was something like a war-siren over the forest, or at least someone stepping on Tim's foot- but nothing had prepared you for when the Slenderman's mark would inflame so hard that even you had to take some of those weird pills, that ain't cocaine, to cope with the pain of the Sickness as they called it. Not that you had ever had cocaine but- oh look at the time! Anyway, the pain had subsided, but everyone had their minds royally fucked with all the angry radio signals Slender-bitch was transmitting and you were actually thinking of hitting yourself in the head to get a good night's sleep.
Everyone needs their beauty sleep.
Jokes aside though, the moment Toby had pulled you into the safety of the bedroom, you could not stop crying; was it from relief, was it from sadness, was it because your brain had finally farted and didn't know how to hide it, you had no absolute idea other than the certainty that these woods and Slenderman's realm were no longer safe... well as safe as a place festered with deranged killers can be.
The Proxies, for the first time since you met them seemed utterly concerned; Kate was restless, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, Tim was pacing up and down, passing his hand through his already disheveled hair and swearing, while Hoody emitted what you would call lethal death stares and ominous aura from under his mask. The only jolly and absolutely giving zero fucks, was Toby as usual, who was more occupied with gulfing down whatever was left in the Proxies fridge than anything else. As for you, you were trying to stop the profuse bleeding of your palm and actually start talking without coughing up blood; you'd give it to Michael, he might have been just a small poke, but his grip on the metal rod was adamant, hurting your throat more than you thought. You could barely breathe through it, much less speak, yet you weren't hurt enough for the healing capabilities of Slenderman's mark to be triggered. In other words, fuck you.
What also didn't help was the fact the Proxies needed some answers and there was no paper on sight for you to write them down for them.
So doing your best to speak, sounding like the better version of Vin Diesel, you explain exactly what happened with Michael and how he had ended up killing the rest of his fellow Proxies, as well as doing it to please some unknown people or forces that might be roaming around the woods. All of them agreed that there is absolutely no way for any foreigners to enter the woods whatsoever since this place was actually a fucked up Narnia; Slenderman's power protects this place from any unauthorized infiltration and no one can come in or go without the Being knowing so. Even the Proxies that live in here have their locations known every single minute; he would be excellent in Goggle Maps, that's for sure. But for traitor Proxies to dwell in Proxy houses outside these woods, this is a possibility but a highly dangerous one. It would only mean that their houses are compromised and weeding them out, however easy it would be to locate silver marks and veins, would cause uproar. An uproar would only mean more enemies would arise, willing to grab the opportunity presented and make a lot of damage.
Still, there was absolutely no way to let this issue be.
So, without further thought, they sounded the alarm that a dangerous virus was out there and all Proxies and Allies must immediately retreat either into the Slender Woods or their assigned houses outside of it.
Up until now, day number two, no one had come back and just between me and you, you're really anxious about it, spending these past days filled with horror of what the future or how crazy the new additions might be.
If you had to guess, you're prepared to get royally fucked.
'How are you feeling ______?' you had heard Kate walking up to you long before she actually did, her footsteps being way lighter than any of the others, yet still audible despite the awful weather. The girl sits down beside you and you can feel her gaze at the side of your face as she wraps her hands around her knees to protect herself from the cold and stares off into the distance like you're in some cowboy movie; you wouldn't really mind a reverse Brokeback Mountain, since she's the least dangerous of them all.
Dude, this ain't a yuri manga...
'Like I've been hit by a truck on a highway.' Your voice was too strained to rise above a pained whisper and when you cough violently, it feels like Wolverine had punched you straight in the throat.
She hums in understanding 'Thought so. Here, drink this.' She offers you a glass full of water and a few weird looking tablets.
Eyeing them curiously, you raise an eyebrow 'Are they going to kill me?'
She nods 'No.'
'Too bad then.' Taking them from her hands, you spend no time downing them in one go, mimicking her in staring off into the distance like you're contemplating the meaning of life 'When are your friends going to come?' there is a certain irony and bitterness in the way your say 'friends' but let's be honest here, they'll all probably stabity-stab one another the first chance they'd get.
Kate doesn't dignify your tone with a response 'Any minute now. Though I've got to warn you, not to throw any temper-tantrums around them; they're less tolerant and I just cleaned the walls from last time. So if you can avoid them, think they're the Plague.'
'Afraid I'll catch the crazies?' you bark out in humorless chuckle.
'Disembowelment's never a fun process.' She warns calmly, her white mask turning and her eyes nailing themselves on you insistently, piercing through your meat suit and reaching all the way down to your dead and cold soul, unnerving it to no ends and actually forcing you to lean away from her just a bit, pulling the glass towards you like it's a protective weapon of mass destruction; it kills with the power of cleanness.
'I'll sure try.'
'I sure hope so.' she shakes her head.
Another lighting shakes the ground and the spitting sound of trees being cut in half erupts through the forest, with the wind carrying the smell of burnt wood to our nostrils; this poor tree must have been close enough to you huh? When is this weather going to end?
Absorbed into your thoughts, both you and Kate enjoy the calming embrace of not talking, as you down a bit more of the water, wondering when your life became complete and utter shit...
A loud popping sound comes from behind you out of nowhere, and in the few seconds it takes you to turn around and see which motherfucker closed the door that hard, you notice waves and waves of vapor slithering their way off the stairs and into the grass and for a split second, you seriously think: who the fuck's vaping?
Alas, before the moment even passes, long and cold sharp objects make their way into the back of your blouse, grabbing an iron vise of it and next thing you know, you are being pulled upwards like you weighted nothing. Hands still clutching onto the mug, your (e/c) orbs widen with surprise and your mouth half-opens, yet your vocal cords are still too bruised to produce any kind of coherent or loud noise, as your tired muscles allow you to be pulled like some ragdoll with no volition of its own. Thus raw fear courses through your veins, rendering you completely immovable as your legs detach from the ground as well, and you find yourself dangling off the ground for a good inch and a half. Too dazed to do anything, too scared to even dare look at what the fuck is going on.
From the corner of your eyes, you can see Kate jump to her feet and her voice reaches you as if through water, when all you pretty much hear is the ragged breath of something animalistic.
Dude, eat a mint or something, your breath smells like dea-
Turning to see who the fuck has pulled you up, you already find two grey eyes looking at you, matching with a huge grin that sports shark-like teeth.
Well slap you in the ass and call you Mary, you are pretty much staring upon a monochrome Pennywise and the longer you stare the more you can actually feel your life decreasing with each passing second. Whatever the hell this demon is, from whichever level of hell he was spewed out of, he has no color upon him whatsoever. He is completely monochromatic and his mere presence is enough to dim down all other colors around you as well. His skin is paper white, his lips and hair so black they can pretty much go up against any emo you can think off. He is enormous, easily 9.8 feet, and he is literally absorbing the mere light that surrounds him, turning it into an ominous black miasma coming off of him in steady waves that make you feel sick and dirty. His hair is a disheveled mop, ragged and protruding towards any possible direction, the spot where his nose must have been has been altered into a black and white cone, while his attire is that of a monochrome clown from whatever century nightmares come from, and his stomach is covered by bandages. Both hands sport huge menacing claws ready to slash through flesh like a hungry kid left alone with cake and-
Are you peeing your pants?
You are peeing your pants.
All you can do is stare at his grey orbs, watching futilely as his pupils turn into little pins and his unnervingly large stripped tongue lolls out of his mouth like a dog in front of a juicy steak.
'Caught a little weasel~!'
Maniacal laughter reverberates like a gunshot in your ears.
Kate screams the same time as you do.
All you pretty much feel is your body getting slammed by Jesse Ventura and you are flying backwards. Air escapes your lungs and the collision with the wooden banister surrounding the house is so severe, that the wood breaks -splinters tearing at your clothes and piercing mercilessly at your skin. Earth is lost around you and everything goes black, before it explodes into a kaleidoscope of colors and thick pain, and you find yourself lying face up into the dirt. Your chest is screaming bloody murder, breathing pains you to even think about, rain is falling on your face and you have lost your blanket in the process. Someone is laughing maniacally in the background, but all you can hear is a piercing sound erupting in your ears, making you want to cover them.
Angry voices suddenly add to the laughter but you are too occupied by the shadow walking into your field of vision.
'Time's up, lil' human.' a feminine, very attractive voice breaks the whistling and you blink sheepishly, trying to get your brain going.
As your vision clears, you can finally see the woman standing above you.
She looks rather young; if not around your age, she must be between 19 or 21 at least. Sporting luxurious wet curls of hair, cascading her head and reaching all the way down her shoulders, they fit perfectly with her white skin and dark clothes. Her combat boots are accompanied by a hunting knife in her left hand and her green eyes almost shine in the pale silver of the day; correction, her green eye. No matter her beauty, she only had one eye -the other socket is covered by a ticking clock. It appears strange against her delicate features, but it's only then you notice the messily made stitches, trying to hold together both sides of a cut-up mouth.
Next thing you know, a combat boot is coming down against your face.
Why you?
From all people, why you?
Instincts kicking in, you roll to your side just in time for the boot to hit the ground underneath. Raw victory flashes inside your mind as an annoyed grumble sounds from above you, alas before you have the chance to stand up and run for it, another foot is stepping onto your injured palm. Hot pain blooms, white hot, and your scream is silenced by the thunder booming above you, before it is entirely cut by a boot to your stomach. Air is chased out of your lungs and instinctively, your hands fly to cover your stomach as you writhe in voiceless, horrific pain. Only to be hit in the face next. There is something hot and liquid dripping down your face and it's either a) your nose, b) your skull splitting open or c) all of the above. Whatever it is, the pain is too much to even attempt to stop it, and you are left there into the mercy of this deranged bitch who screams in victory as she hits you again and again. If you are screaming, you don't know. If the storm continues or if she is yelling in victory, you cannot hear.
There is a strange sense of silence enveloping you.
What the fuck is wrong with these people? You know what, scratch that, from the moment you set foot into this cursed place, there is no day that has gone by that you were not tormented in some way by any of them. Obviously, you are practically sure you were come kind of Roman gladiator killing Christians or at least in the Inquisition, to be paying so dearly for sins you have never committed. Why you? Why did it have to be you? And to think you even attempted to escape entirely and look where that got you. Really, as you are currently crying your eyes out, wet, mudded and blooded on the cold merciless ground, you simply wish for the torment to end.
What else do they want from you?
You are giving them what they want so-
A sibilant sound you knew all too well by now pierces through the veil of pain.
Someone screams and curses out heavily and relief washes over you when your brain registers that it's not you.
'~B-bad Clocky. No p-p-playing around w-with my kitty.'
Even in the hellish sound of the pain and the storm combined, you know all too well Toby's voice may sound merry, but it's anything but. It elicits a new kind of fear -the same kind only Toby can create within you- but also relief when you know it's not directed towards you.
He's not mad at you.
Thank dark Lord Voldemort, he ain't mad at you.
'Fuck you, ticking asshole!' the girl screams back, but instead of a response, you feel two gloved hands grabbing a hold of your arms and hoistering you into your wobbly feet.
A long pause follows the girl's words, where you can practically feel Toby's hands shake rather violently before popping simultaneously in various spots. His grasp lingers, but he's no longer looking at you; his goggles have turned to fixate upon the clock-eyed bitch and his aura of malice is becoming darker by the second. His grip clasps down on your skin more and more, paining you and surely leaving bruises, but you are too terrified to move, knowing exactly what is going to happen in a few seconds.
'What did you call me?' his voice is low, crystal clear, without catching in any syllable.
She done fucked up.
Girl laughs anxiously 'C'mon babe, you know I'm fucking with you. It's our foreplay!' she tries and fails to calm him down.
'I-I'm done f-fucking you f-for a while now, used s-slut.' He says 'S-o what did you call me?'
Blinking, you see the girl actually take a hurried step back, raising her hands in the air; she has already removed the hatchet from her shoulder and all that remains behind is bloodied and torn clothes. Toby, for a single fraction of the moment, remains still; his chocolate curls are just as drenched and his goggles are luminescent in the pale light. Slowly, he turns and looks at the terrified you, allowing full view to your ragged reflection in his goggles, before he releases you harshly and takes a step against the girl. Hands are twitching towards his other hatchet and you know shits about to hit the fan.
'Take her in and clean her up Kate.' Another authoritative voice sounds, and you have to sheepishly look to the side to locate Hoody.
His tone might be severe, but it's also urgent for the first time since you met him, confusing you even more with what's going on. Zero time is given to you in order to ask questions, as Kate wordlessly comes to your side and starts escorting you inside, away from the clock-eyed girl, away from the monochrome clown and towards the safety of your room.
Just as you pass the house's threshold, the screams begin.
~ * * * ~
A whole hour has passed by when you finally get dressed.
As simple a task as it might seem, it only proved to be harder than you realized, since your whole body is covered in bruises and several of your ribs are broken. It was Jackpot to find warm water for your shower and it really did help soothe the pain considerably, driving away the dirt and blood that had caked you yet again. Kate had left you in your room with the sole warning of not doing anything you'd regret and to come to the living room as soon as possible, before she hurried away, probably towards the garden where everything was going down. You couldn't hear the screams any longer, but knowing Toby when he's angry, you knew things got ugly; still there was no remorse left within you for the bitch that pounded on you as if you're a boxing dummy.
So, you took your time to bathe and dry yourself off.
Silence as once again your only companion as you dressed, pulling a spare hoodie over your head with great effort and changing the bandages on your hand into clean ones. Making sure no flesh is left unprotected -if they so much as see un-bruised skin, you are sure they're going to attack like coyotes with rabies-, you pull your (h/c) (h/l) up in a perfect bun; the only way you could think of for them to not be easily pullable, before you slip onto a pair of jeans and make your way out of the room. Even if they didn't come to check on you, instinct told you it's a bad idea to keep them waiting any longer and also, better rip this fucker-meeting off like they do with IVs in movies.
Now you are cringing yourself.
Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhnggggggg.
Shaking the thought out of your mind, you exit your room and walk into the rather cold corridor, closing the door silently behind you.
'Play with me?'
Holy mother of Jesus Christ Superstar on a T-rex!
Instant backing into the wall ensues, as your hand flies to cover the spot where your heart lies, said organ being ready to motherfucking skydive out of your ribcage. What on earth is it NOW?!
Frantically looking up and down the corridor, your eyes fall onto the only other being occupying it, other than yourself.
A little girl.
A little bloodied girl.
She looks barely over the age of seven, her brown hair reaching all the way down to her waist and matching perfectly with her piercing, forest green eyes. She wore a cute pink dress and held onto the hand of a small teddy bear that was ragged and torn in a few places. Still, if it wasn't for the goddamn BLOOD cascading her childish face and staining almost every inch of her dress, you'd have thought these assholes had abducted a child. Alas, these small details make your heart drop inside your chest and your eyes almost pop out of your skull. Innocently, she tilts her head to the side and smiles brightly at you, a smile that you could deem as the only source of warmth inside this hellish place.
'You don't have to be scared of me!' she chimes happily 'Slendy send me here to keep you safe!'
Now that's even more doubtful.
Mouth dropping, you try your best to form coherent phrases 'W-who are you?'
Her big green eyes stare at you amusingly 'I'm Sally! And this is mr. Death!' she pulls her teddy bear up for you to see better and you actually shiver in the ominous name.
'H-how old are you Sally?'
'I'm six! Now, we should really go down, they're expecting us!' she urges and you shake your head, making her chuckle loudly, a sound that reverberates in the hallway like little bells.
'Don't worry _____! I'll keep you safe! I won't hurt you! Pinky promise!' she exclaims happily, skidding her way towards you and proudly raising her pinky out for you to shake.
This is bad, this is really bad.
'Who s-send you?'
'Daddy Slenderman! Said I had to protect you since you're not his yet.'
Ominous alert!!!
'A-are you s-sure?'
'You should see me mad! Don't worry ______, a pinky promise is a pinky promise.' She insists and pokes her hand even further up, ending up tip-toeing 'You'll need me to keep the bad guys away.'
For a few moments, you let her hang there; adrenaline courses through you raw and you search each and every word Sally said in your mind in a desperate attempt to find even a single spot where she's lying to you. There is none. Her voice is crystal clear and her smile sincere and she really is telling you the truth. Without knowing why, a wave of warmth washes over your back and you find yourself reaching out for her pinky. A strange sense of calmness, like words of courage whispered in your ear, a voice you have heard before yet can't quite pinpoint; the little girl reminds you of your sister, so instinctively, you don't really believe a child is capable of mass murder, no matter the blood staining her clothes. This is why you can't have nice things ______, you trust too much. You know too well. Don't come running back to me when this blows in your face.
The moment you shakily wrap your finger around hers, she squeals merrily and grabs a strong -stronger than any other six-year-old out there- hold of your hand, leading you towards the staircase.
Dude, you have finally flown over the cuckoo's nest, because you are inside a house festered with murderous killers and you are currently touching a menacing yet cute looking girl, let alone trusting her blindly, who claims can protect you over the army of the Undead in the kitchen. If you knew any better, you'd say you actually gone mad. Yet when you make your way downstairs, feeling the various eyes nailing on you from every corner off the room, Sally puffs her little chest out and no one makes a comment in the absurdity of the situation right before their eyes.
Instead, you can see that everybody is alive and -even though a bit bloodied- standing, while there is another addition to the Addams family. The monochrome clown and the clock-eyed girl are standing off towards the back and closer to the kitchen, their eyes watching you like hawks as you are walking in, measuring your every move, with the clock-eyed girl appearing too battered and breathless, yet reprimanded enough not to throw any sarcastic comment. Her bottom lip is split in half all the way down to her chin, but isn't oozing blood anymore; how bad was it for it to take so long to heal? Then again, as you eyes locate Toby leaning against the wall near the fireplace, hands folded over his sturdy chest and hatchets still dripping blood -his brown eyes never stray from the clock-eyed girl, watching her closely- you can tell he's just dying for the opportunity to bitch-slap her into tomorrow. Tim is standing on the window overlooking the front yard, hands clasped behind his back, waiting for something, while Kate and Hoody are calmly murmuring to one another in front of the lit fireplace.
Yet the only one that draws your undiminished attention is currently sitting like the true King of Murderland on the only armchair in the living room, paper-white hands playing with a kitchen knife. Its blade catches in the light of the vivid flames and your jaw sets sharply as you look upon him.
'_____, now that you've finally joined us.' Kate rolls her eyes, yet her voice isn't strong enough to draw your eyes away from the sitting man 'Let's introduce you. Everyone, this is ______, our newest addition. These are Clockwork, Laughing Jack, Sally -who you've already met- and Jeff.'
Lips pressing into a thin line, cold sweat bathes you, as you can feel the remaining color drain from your skin when you gaze upon the sitting man, who is already looking at you like a doe ready to be shredded apart. He was far beyond any nightmare you had ever seen, far surpassing the rest of the freaks by a long shot. He is tall, around the height of 6' 2', with his body being muscular and sporting broad shoulders. And he is utterly horrific. His burnt, coal black hair was reaching just until his shoulders, cut into various lengths messily and his skin was as white as a sheet of paper. Alas, these were not the most terrifying of his characteristics, not the ones that were sure to haunt someone's dreams until the day they would draw their last breath. What made you die a little bit more inside, was the complete lack of eyelids, making his insane stare able to pierce down into your very own soul, as well as the fact that he had a carved smile that reached far up each of his cheeks, as he smiled a menacing smile of complete lunacy towards you, flipping his bloodstained knife in his hands like he was juggling for the pleasure of some audience. He was wearing a bloodstained hoodie and black pants. His abyssal black eyes are staring at you with keen interest, head tilting to the side like a curious dog and a red glow passing through them; it's a knowing one.
He knows what you're thinking.
'You know me doll, don't ya?' his voice is gruff, low and utterly sarcastic. He's not asking, he's simply telling.
'You're Jeff the Killer.' Your voice is alien even to you.
'Correct.' Leaning his head back, he chuckles 'Fan of my work?'
Stiffly, you nod 'No. Not really.' You swallow hard 'I'm a reporter you know. Covered a few interviews for the Police. Everyone in the Washington Police Department is looking for you.'
This seems to spark another red glow in his eyes and he stops juggling his knife, catching it in midair with a sharp move that has you jerking back barely an inch.
If only, it manages to widen his smile even more.
'Oh I know.' He leans a bit forward and for a split second, you can predict the future and see him lunging forward 'I'll pay them a visit soon. To a certain few fucking detectives.'
Sinister is the laugh that accompanies the end of the sentence and the hair in the back of your neck stands up, as Jeff leans back once again and resumes playing with his knife indifferently. Hoody takes advantage of the sudden silence and takes a step back, addressing the rest and attempting to explain the situation. Clockwork and Kate start speaking loudly, with Sally chiming a few squeals as she runs over to Laughing Jack, who laughs maniacally and picks her up. In the commotion that ensues, no one really pays any attention to you.
Time to get the fuck outta Dodgeville bitches.
Slipping to the side, you can't handle so many deranged motherfuckers all in one go, so despite your dismay, you walk over towards the window were Tim is standing, the only spot inside the house that still seems to provide some resemblance to seclusion and peace. Yes, you were still pretty pissy about Tim lying to you and given the opportunity, you'd punch him into tomorrow again despite you injury, but right now both him and you seemed done with the commotion going on. With careful moves, as quiet as you could, you slip towards the window he is standing in front, suddenly too curious to see who is coming and who is not to care about the hell breaking loose behind you. The man notices your arrival almost immediately, his white mask turning ever so slightly towards you and you can feel his brown eyes on the side of your face as you focus your gaze to the storm raging on still outside the house. Tim has folded his hands over his chest and even despite the commotion; you can hear the inhale he does before turning his head towards the horizon once again.
'I thought you're not talking to me.' he tries to sound nonchalant, but his words come out rushed and you know people all too well to fail to notice his legs shifting uncomfortably on the edge of your vision.
Instead of a response, you fold your hands over your chest as calmly as you could, trying to keep the shaking at bay and not meet his gaze at all, despite feeling his eyes burning you. He has no right to be sarcastic with the issue and you don't care what or who the fuck he thinks he is, he ain't the boss of you. He can snap your neck at any given time sure, he is just as dangerous as the others no matter how much he tries to hide it, but as long as your own two brain cells go around your mind, you ain't gonna go easy on this fucker as he'd like.
He picks up on your ominous aura quickly though, you'll give him that.
'Alright, don't talk to me, like I'd care that I tried my best not to have you killed within the first sec-'
'You lied.' You bark out calmly, ice dripping from every inch of your voice yet you do not look at him. Pride and anger are battling right in front of you, still shimmering in the depths of your heart, overcome by fear sure, but still being there. Whatever is left from your controlled self is still crawling in the depths of your consciousness and you will cook your own limbs and eat them before you let them have their way with you.
Tim knows about it as well.
You can actually hear the eye roll in his voice 'Of course, because truth'd have worked so well! Hi, I'm Tim and I'm a slave to a faceless monster lurking in the woods. Would you be interested in joining our hellish crusade against the forces of the living?'
'You lied about who you are.' You repeat steadily, not letting the anger bubbling in your chest like hot magma come out and slap this bitch dead 'You could ignore me, send me off in my merry way, but you were kind and you chatted me up! I helped you and all this time you all were stalking me. For six months you were-'
'A year.' He corrects, cutting you off in surprise 'It's six months and another six where the Sickness started to kick in.'
Alright, he's making it harder and this time, when you pass a hand over your face, trying to collect yourself, your hand can very much be dancing Macarena. He notices, but chooses not to comment; only slumps his shoulders more. His tone is sincere, you can tell, he's not enjoying this any more than you do, but then again he'd have done nothing different. There is a strange honesty about knowing he would have done nothing less than what he did and at least you can give him that; it's not like you can go against Slenderman's orders yourself and at least you have a possible way out of this hellhole. You hope. But that did not mean you couldn't be a shitty human in return to him. You owed him nothing and he would get nothing from you.
Fair and square.
As another lighting flashes into the horizon, the shadows inside the forest grow deeper and acquire a life of their own, movement catches your eye and draws your attention. Your head turns but nothing can be seen in the near proximity of the house, nor as far into the forest as you can see. For a moment, your brain is so sure you saw something, a flinch of movement, and then the next you are questioning your sanity as there is nothing there to begin with. Did you imagine it? Did you finally screw up your brain so hard that you are seeing things? What next? Hallucinations? Oh boi do you wish for some nicely done hallucinations to fuck you up a bit more...Juuuuuust great! Yet Tim also seems to sharply look towards the forest and unless you both ate something you shouldn't -that soup surely tasted funny-, you've not hit your head hard enough just yet to see things.
'Last guests are coming up..' Masky mutters more to himself than to you and curiously, you strain your eyes to manage and pierce through the darkness.
For a moment, all you can see between the trees is the deep shadows calmly swirling like mist around the edges of the flora, lazily plunging everything and taking over, as the rain had drowned down everything.
A heartbeat echoes in your ears.
Suddenly, two shapes emerge from the shadows, tall and proud, almost sliding their way towards you.
One of them, the smaller, walking just one step behind the first one, is a very familiar one. Halloween is just as horrifying as you remember her; in contrast with the enormous trees beside her, she seems deceptively small and harmless, her face a mask of indifference and lack of emotions despite her horrendous mutilation, while her white hands glide on the torn cloth of her witch costume as she walks, appearing as harmless as two small sticks. Yet you knew better and failed not to locate her sledgehammer protruding from her side. In light of the storm, she appears truly to be just an animated corpse that caught the Walking Dead disease. Something that is only highlighted by her wine red mane cascading her shoulders, sticking to her body due to the water...
On her side, barely a step in front of her, with his shoulders rolled out in arrogance and his posture as sharp as a predator ready to pounce, is Jack. His black clothes match perfectly with the shadows surrounding them, making it seem like his royal blue mask is basically floating around in the air, but by now you are accustomed to the darkness enough to see the outline of his body walking casually towards the house, his mask eternally crying black goo-like tears. Both of them seem to move in perfect sync, with Jack resting his hands on the pockets of his hoodie; no doubt he's clutching at his weapon for sure. Outside of the small confines of the basement you saw them first, they seem otherworldly and just as dangerous, sending a wild shiver down your spine, making you look away.
'Halloween's a new addition to the Allies.' Tim's voice breaks your reverie, latching you on back to reality without the man realizing it 'She caused a lot of problems at first; killing left and right, feeding off humans and not bothering to make them disappear, she threatened to expose us. Slenderman ordered Jack to evaluate and reprimand her if need be. Or kill her if she wasn't to be reasoned with.' Tim shrugs, as if he wasn't talking about murder but simply the weather.
Biting your lip, curiosity peaks within 'Monsters stick together then? Big fish eats the small one?'
Tim remains silent for a moment, before his mask turns towards you and his voice comes out strangely cold, like a soldier speaking a verse he has practiced again and again and again.
'Whoever can't be useful is to be eliminated.' He says 'Sometimes they are too far gone to be saved; like the thing we came near to into the woods. Or if they can't be reasoned, they must die as not to aid anyone against us. The good scenario is to join Slenderman and his rule; Jeff had to be recruited by Slenderman himself since he's one of the most powerful; if not the most powerful after Slenderman and other beings like him. Same goes for Eyeless Jack, Laughing Jack and some others. A few others joined out of their own volition. Others were brought in by Allies; Halloween went up against Jack and lost. She's deemed useful by him and from then onwards, she follows him around and helps with his experiments. I guess there is a certain hierarchy in demons; Possessed have to obey rules of their own. Killers don't have anything like that. Both will kill you if you ain't careful.'
'What won't kill me in this Barbie house though?' you sarcastically roll your eyes.
Tim sighs 'Is it too much to ask you to stick close to us?'
'Totally.'
'Just don't anger anyone too much. You're not a Proxy, so technically there's nothing to keep them from killing you.' he sounds tired as he says that and you open your mouth to respond, but Jack and Halloween are already coming through the door, with a very quiet Kate opening it and mumbling something only they could hear.
Before the door even manages to close behind them, the atmosphere inside the living room shifts; now that all killers and Proxies are here, the darkness is sweeping into the house like a miasma oozing through every surface thickly and steadily, turning the mere air impure and instilling a certain amount of raw fear within you. Clockwork is glaring at Toby, who's more occupied with the conversation going on between you and Tim to really notice. Hoody is keeping a close eye to all of you from the fireplace, Laughing Jack is holding Sally in his hands, the little girl whispering something in his ear and Jeff is swinging his knife in his hands absentmindedly, looking at Jack and Halloween like they are the most amusing sight he has ever seen; suddenly, his cut smile starts bleeding and appears even wider than before. He takes a step forward, standing up, and you swear a red glow flashes over his eyes. The knife seems oddly light in his deft hands.
Temperature drops a few degrees and a voice in the back of your mind is screaming bloody murder.
Shit's about to go down bitch and your asses will be whooped!
Time to make the chimi-fucking-changas.
'Well well well.' Jeff's eyes truly do flash red and it's the most terrifying shit you've ever seen 'Traitor's here guys. We've got him.'
In his words, there is a faint shifting sound from all across the room, as all eyes nail on Jack and Jeff opens his arms wide -still holding onto his knife- walking casually up towards the other male, as if he just pissed all over his territory, who remains as calm as a cucumber. Jack's shoulders seem too relaxed for a man who is just blamed as a traitor in front of a house full of killers; he's calm and collected, but the haunting aura of his being is chilling the mere air he breathes. Jeff seems utterly unaffected as he laughs maniacally and points at him with his knife, mere inches away from Jack's face. Beside you, Tim makes a small step in front of you, shielding you away behind him; Toby's eyes suddenly nail on you, but you are too occupied by watching in horror as Halloween shifts to the right. The movement is so miniscule; at first you think it's just your imagination. Without realizing it, you are holding your breath as Jack pulls his hands off his pockets, yet he's unarmed.
No doubt he can take Jeff empty handed though.
'Careful now Jeff' he says 'These are some serious accusations in the wake of such dangerous times.'
Jack's voice is cold but not emotionless; there is a small tint of amusement in there, tangled among the coldness and even gives a small chuckle as he watches Jeff's face contort to even more of a rage mask and bares his teeth, spitting on Jack's feet. Halloween moves again, but Jack raises his arm just a millimeter up to the side and stops her immediately; Jeff doesn't seem to notice, but your eyes are glued to the girl who appears deceptively calm.
'You left me out in the open with the motherfucking COPS on by ass!' Jeff screams at Jack's face, knife shining almost by itself.
'Information about their arrival was shared with you.' Jack says 'You chose to stay even if the mission was completed.'
'I BARELY escaped you fucker! They almost got me while you and your bitch-'
'I do not appreciate foul language.' Jack's voice has lost his amused tone as he interrupts Jeff, who looks like he's just been sucker punch slapped across the face. From his arrogant demeanor, he surely didn't expect Jack to interrupt him and now that he did, his eyes drown with absolute insanity, making the hair in the back of your neck stand up.
It is now that Jeff lunges against Jack that horror penetrates your very being and Tim right in front of you screams something you cannot hear anymore.
Ears ringing, your heart leaps inside your chest and all you want to do right now is disappear; there is something even more terrifying in these killers than the Proxies that abducted you and even your sassy ass will not go up against them. Instead, your body falls into fleeing mode but there is nowhere you can go! All bystanders jump on their feet as Jeff lunges, raising his knife and ejecting his already huge body against Jack's leaner one, that chaos and mayhem erupt all around the house; screams reach your ears and from the side of your eyes you can see Kate screaming at Hoody who only stands up more straight. Sally and Laughing Jack cheer along with Toby, Tim raises a hand protectively in front of you, but your eyes are nailed only on the three murderers in front of you; Jeff's knife is merely an inch away from Jack's face when a shadow moves and everything stills.
Jack doesn't even move a single inch.
A white hand flashes out of nowhere and Jeff's hand is suspended in mid-air.
His deranged eyes still and fill with confusion for a single moment, as long as it takes him to look to the side and see Halloween standing on Jack's side, white hand clasping hard down on his own.
Her face is neutral but her orange eyes almost glow.
Before you even blink, a horrifying sound erupts and Jeff's hand breaks in two like a twig, before another hand lands hard against his chest and he is catapulted against the wall several meters behind him with such power, that the moment his body collides with it, a crater is created when the old bricks and planks give away. Dust engulfs him, dirtying his clothes even more and making Sally cough. For a single moment Jeff looks disoriented as he falls on his feet, panting hard and eyes even wider if that was possible, before he glares menacingly at the girl who steps in front of Jack proudly, unafraid and unblinking -a demon ready to pounce. No one breathes. No one even dares make a single sound. Everybody waits to see what on earth will happen; surely seems like hell will break loose any second now.
'You fucking whore.' He breathes out, but Halloween doesn't even blink.
Not even when he takes another step forward and everyone knows it's his cue to attack again.
'Enough.'
Cold, collected but authoritative, Jack's voice pierces through the tension like the blade of a sword. Jeff's smile widens, but the other male isn't in any mood to quarrel further.
Instead, he turns to his comrade and simply says 'Halloween' before the girl retreats back to her spot right behind him, obeying completely to his calm order before the man turns his royal blue mask towards Jeff, who is literally fuming and smiling like crazy. His eyes are bloody red and his fingers twitch around the blade, waiting for the cue to lunge forward yet again.
'If we are done with the dick measuring contest, I believe there are other matters to attend.'
Wait what?
Jeff laughs once again and straightens his posture arrogantly; shoving his knife back into his hoodie pocket and chuckling, releasing the tension inside the room and making a huge question mark appear over your head. Dusting himself off with his good hand, you only watch in wonder as his broken one cracks and the bone returns to its original position, healing in a matter of seconds.
Bitch, can he teach you that?
'Took them days to clean their corpses off the fucking ceiling; fucking useless morons.' He laughs darkly and Jack inclines his head just a bit, auburn hair catching a bit of light.
'So I heard.' He says and his tone regains the previous amusement.
This was seriously a dick measuring contest?
Really?!
'How small must his dick be?'
Seriously, you thought you only said that in your head, but Tim erupts in uncontrollable laugher the moment he hears you, doubling over and throwing his hands over his stomach in a futile attempt to compose himself. Everybody turns to look at you both, Kate and Hoody's auras betraying annoyance, while the others were simply curious, but for the life of you both, Tim is no state to utter a single word as he wheezes and you are literally crapping your pants to voice the thought again. Not that you would, you're not that suicidal just yet.
Wait a minute...
An annoyed cough breaks through the laughter and Tim manages to actually drown it down and turn it into a cough, as Hoody's mask is turned towards you both and the condescending glare can be felt even behind the cloth. Jeff throws himself back in the armchair, while Hoody beckons to the rest of you to join the circle of murderers. Jack sits on the edge of the sofa, with Halloween choosing to sit on the arm of the sofa right next to him, Clockwork takes up the rest and the only spot that remains free is between Toby and Hoody, right in front of the fireplace.
Hoody turns to you and nods towards the spot.
'If you want to hurry up ______.'
Everyone's eyes nail on you expectantly.
Wasting no more precious time, you walk hastily towards them, settling as comfortably as you could between them.
It was time for the bad moon to rise.
A/N: Hey darlings! I really hope you enjoyed the chapter! ^^ It feels a little bit iffy to me, but it has to go for now, since it's already enormous and the next chapters are going to be just as big, if not bigger. Thank you for being so patient with me, thankfully up until now my exams went fairly okay and I can hope to graduate on November. Still, figners crossed! Please share with me your thoughts about the chapter, many characters entering the field and a lot of easter eggs hidden within! ;D As always, i really wish you have an amaazing day/night <3
Halloween belongs to me (C)