Chapter Text
If his life were to have flashed in front of his eyes, Josh still would have been the last thing he saw.
It has always been Josh, all of his memories were Josh—
And why should that have to change?
Chris is stumbling through darkness, calling out for someone— for him. But there is something else out there, too. Something awful.
He can hear it chattering and growling quietly in the dark. Just like those monsters.. the cabin..
Immediately, he freezes. What had that stranger told them…. They can only see you if you move, right? That’s what he reassures himself with. That’s what keeps him from crying out, from sobbing in fear, from running for his goddamn life—
“heLP MEEEE!!!” A scream full of fear sharp enough to draw blood sounds off in the distance. The hair stands up on the back of his neck.
Don’t move don’t move don’t move
The thing in the dark goes silent.
Don’t move don’t move don’t-
“Please!! Oh God, no…!”
Chris gasps. It’s him. It’s Josh.
“Oh God, I don’t want to die! I don’t want to—“
A repulsive screech cuts through his screams. Chris is instantly jolted out of his shock. He can’t just stand by while those things get him, he can’t abandon him— not again.
So, “Screw it…”
Chris took a deep breath and cupped his hands around his mouth. “JOSH!” No answer. He takes another deep breath, but this time he’s running toward the source of the screams as fast as he can. “Josh!!”
Monstrous footfalls echo behind him.
“J-Josh…” Everything is black, and the air is thick with the smell of iron or metal. Panic begins to seep in without reason as Chris wakes, forcing his words into a strangled whisper. “ Josh ..” But what was… were the sheets wet? His eyes snap open.
Now, everything is red.
“Oh my god.”
It’s with a clumsy hand that Chris grabs his glasses, entirely disoriented as he rushes to prop them upon his nose. He inspects the other side of the bed. Usually, he finds Josh sleeping peacefully beside him.
Today is very different, however.
Instead, the sheets are soaked with blood— and not recently, either. Almost half of it has dried and turned a faded brown, the rest a horrible, sticky shade of dark red. “Holy shit… who…?” Chris falters as his horror increases. Only now has he looked down at himself and realized that they’d been sleeping in it. He gives an involuntary groan of disgust and fear. “What the hell- what the hell happened?” A lump starts to form in his throat. Where is Josh?
With his heartbeat pounding in his ears, Chris gets out of bed. He lets out a bark of numb laughter.
He’d thought they were on the mountain again.
“J…” With another glance at the bloody mess, he falters. “...Josh?” Part of him is afraid. Not of what was in his dream, but of.. him. Why? Why?
“Chris?”
The sound of his own name is both reassuring and terrifying at the same time. He’s okay. Oh thank GOD he’s okay. In his hurry, Chris very nearly forgets the coppery mess he is and stumbles toward the bedroom door. It’s ajar.
A bloody handprint punctuates the knob.
His heartbeat quickens with urgency. Every beat tells him to find Josh. But, when he rounds the corner—
“Oh my god. Josh...!”