Chapter Text
He watched the liquid in his glass swirl around as he looked behind his back, the stool squeaking at the slightest movement. The bar, small and insignificant as it was, left nothing to the imagination, the light vanishing around its corners. The same man from the store was now sitting alone at the corner table behind Randy and he knew he was being watched.
He got nervous, tapping his fingers on the dusty poseur table as he waited, drinking slowly, the jazz music distracting him from the stress. An opening will come and he’ll slip away into the night, back to his apartment. Hopefully, that will be it. He’d pray nothing else would ever come out of this moment. It would not be the first time his paranoid brain confused one situation and replaced it with thoughts of harm and danger coming his way, and yet today he was sure the latter was right. The bartender seemed to trip over her own feet, dropping a bottle under the counter which was enough to distract him from that line of thought, the wooden floor creaking as the girl tried to pick it back up.
Breathing in and out, feeling the old dust particles in the air irritate his throat, which was nothing a sip of his drink couldn‘t fix. Checking once more, he could catch a glimpse of the ominous figure staring intently at him. Still like a corpse with no drink in sight, his eyes not being visible under those glasses made Randy shiver and go back to looking down at the now empty glass in his hands.
The buzz of the bright fluorescent lights made his head hurt while the items beeped as he passed their barcode in front of the scanner like he had been doing for hours.
“That would be $5.99,” Randy left out, tired and ready to leave his hellish shift.
“Here”
“Thanks, come by again soon”
Waving goodbye to the woman as she left, the door opening and closing with his characteristic bell sound. He was now out of view, and the customer-service smile dropped instantly. The temptation to grab a pack of cigarettes from the stands of goodies behind him gnawed his walls down. Sadly, he had managed to give up smoking a year ago and was not willing to end that winning streak. At least not yet.
What was getting that rise out of him was that man—a guy, tall, thin, sickly looking brunette with a face mask and yellow-tinted glasses. Randy had looked at him when he first entered the store. Facemasks were not common anymore after the pandemic, yet here and there someone would enter the place wearing them, and that was nothing to worry about.
… But the man had been there for four hours. Randy had been watching him through the monitor setup to which all the store cameras were connected. It was tiresome. He would spend the time watching the man pick up some product to read or something, just to leave it back where it was. Sometimes, he’d store small packs of candy in his pockets. Not being paid enough to care, the ginger was ready to let him leave the store and leave his mind as soon as possible. But other times the stranger would stay still, frozen while looking directly at the cameras as if he knew the other was watching. It was some creepy fucking thing Randy hated so damn much, words couldn’t even begin to describe the dread it gave him.
In the end, his shift had ended and his coworker came to replace him before the creepy guy could leave on his own.
As he started walking towards his motorcycle and getting the keys from his pockets, his ears perked up at the ring of the doorbell. Looking back, his gaze met the man’s tall silhouette, he was looking back at him. Randy felt sick to his stomach as the other crept in his direction. His hands began to shake, going through his set of keys, trying to reach the right ones for the chain around his motorcycle and helmet, wanting to get the fuck out of there. Panic settled in as he found himself struggling with the chain’s locket.
Sweating, feeling his heart in his throat and the ringing in his ears as he frantically looked back and saw-
Nothing… Absolutely nothing. The man was gone, lost in the almost empty parking lot.
The lights flickered as he caught his breath, kneeling in front of his vehicle, trying to stay sane for another fucking minute. He was… so damn embarrassed, panting like a damn fool in the parking lot.
“Jesus… f-fucking… christ… FUCK-ING H-HELL …” He spat out, some saliva hitting the floor over where he was.
Forming a fist and hitting the pavement, the sting going straight to his brain and making him jolt. It was crude yet calming, a small tantrum as the anger towards himself turned into a small giggle fit. Of course, of course! He was a damn fool! A paranoid fool at that!
“Heh… hehehe- Good god!... I’m gonna give myself a heart attack some day…”
Mumbling that last bit to himself he stood up, now able to unlock the chain with the swiftness he wished he had mere moments ago. A black Camaro pulled out of the parking lot as he started the engine, getting the chain around his waist for safekeeping. Helmet on, and ready for another shift… great.
He started to drive away as he put his phone up, static freezing the screen for a second before his normal feed was up again.
Being a DoorDrive driver was not the best, far from it, but rent wasn‘t getting any cheaper, plus having the extra cash was nice. Besides, sometimes people cancel their order, meaning he has dinner and sometimes even lunch for the next day! Randy was hoping for that scenario, as the Chinese place downtown smelled so damn good after almost puking in a filthy parking lot.
Sadly, that was not the case for that order, and neither for the next nor the one after that. Barely any tips that night, but it could have been worse, for example, being stalked by a black Camaro for an hour and a half.
- Wait-
The black car was still on his track after passing through the main avenue and circling it. Here and there Randy would think he had escaped, yet in the corner of his eye, he would see the black car illuminated by the light poles in the night. This was a new one for him. Were his delivery bags that obvious? A question he was asking himself as he rounded a corner, another frat house ordering Tony’s for the guys and gals at the party. It reminded him of his teen years, now bittersweet memories.
The door opened and a barely sober teen shoved a $100 bill and grabbed all the pizzas from his hands. He mumbled meekly, “Keep the change.” The door loudly closed on Randy’s face as the pop music continued to blast from the inside.
“...Have a good night, I guess.” Randy sighed, it was still a 25%+ tip…
Looking down at the 100$, thinking about what he could do with it as paying this month’s utilities quickly came as an answer, he looked back up. His eyes met with the black Camaro, which was parked beside the motorcycle. The passenger’s seat window was down. The yellow glasses were obvious under the light. It was the same guy from the store.
Randy stood there, looking straight at the stranger with his mouth agape, scared. Before he could run, the car window rolled up. The Camaro moved away. Didn’t need to tell him twice, as Randy quickly got to his motorcycle and sped to the Bar downtown, not risking the guy knowing where he lived.
Now he was once again alone, feeling watched and being observed from a distance.… Just like that time long ago with Jeff, even thinking about it made him grimace, shaking his head and freeing himself from the memory. His glass was empty; he did not want a refill as the bartender was cleaning the old floors. Grabbing his phone up, he used the black, reflective screen to check the man without being so obvious.
…
Took what felt like an eternity as the ginger’s leg bounced around, barely being able to touch the floor from his stool, but the guy finally stood up and slowly made his way to the bathroom.
Randy took his chance, leaving $10 on the table and rushing out of the bar frantically, almost slipping on the mopped floors before catching himself up. Grabbed that door handle and off he was! He had to be quick, get to his motorcycle and-
His line of thought was interrupted as he somehow managed to evade a clear punch to the nose, duking down as another stranger got back on his feet, getting ready for another punch. He was older and packed quite a few more muscles; Randy didn’t care as he started to run in the other direction, his motorcycle be damned. Of course, someone had to be driving the car, shit-
A pain right on his face shot down his spine, blinding, feeling like a dejavú. A third stranger came around the alleyway, a black mask on his face and a crowbar wrapped tightly in his hands. This was planned, and he had fallen for their trap like a fly into a spider web. Shit .
The ginger hit the floor with the back of his head, blacking out for a second before coming back, feeling himself get yanked up harshly as his head fell to the side, not being able to fight as static rang painfully in his ears and made him felt sick to his stomach. He was barely able to see around him as his body was not responding, ignoring his pleas to continue running. Yet, he managed to slap the hand that was holding onto the collar of his shirt, falling back onto the filthy sidewalk. Freedom that didn’t last long, the bulkier male from before grabbed a handful of Randy’s sweaty hair, pulling the ginger up as he yelped.
Randy could barely feel the sting of a needle on his neck before his vision diminished into a wall of white noise, the taste of metal accompanying him as the cherry on top.
“Ugh… I have to buy groceries again…”
Randy sighed, grabbing a shrimp-flavored Ramen packet as he rose from looking down at the packages of stuff with so little nutrition and so processed that it could be barely classified as food. Resigned to eating this for the third time this week, he closed the fridge, returning to the rusty sink on his kitchen counter. Standing there with the package in hand, he was confused and had to do a double take on the fridge's exterior. His list of chores was there, held with a magnet with the number of the local pizza place downtown.
Worry invaded his mind as he realized the list had been left unchecked for the night. Of course, he was relaxing too much if he continued like this… Better not think about it. The ramen was left on the counter as Randy checked the list one last time, taking a closer look and grabbing a pen for the living room table, he almost tripped over the wooden chairs as he went to check his door.
“... there, door locked twice, both lockets… checked… now the windows…”
Like a robot he went back to the fridge and crossed out the first prompt. Next he went up to the windows and noticed one was open, so troublesome. Standing on his tippy toes, he managed to grab onto the window ledge, it squeaking and peeling off the unkept, white window paint as it closed. He went back and crossed that prompt off as well.
“... Closet, bathroom curtains… and that’s all”
Grabbing a knife from the counter, this time, it helped his nerves to have something to defend himself with. He was not ready to go, and if that was the case, he wouldn’t go down without a fight. The hallway was lit as he made his way to his room, the squeaky floor being the only audible sound. He chuckled, realizing how stupid he must look, sneaking around his place as if the old floor wouldn’t alert him from any intruders if there were some.
A bit of self-pity could be seen behind his eyes. His room was unkempt, the little desk in the corner was littered with newspaper cutouts, his laptop was still on, and his printer under the desk was as broken as ever. Not to mention the cables that were a mess on the floor, it might as well start a fire if he keep it like that. Randy kicked one of the pillows on the floor beside the bed as he made his way towards it. The latest of nights were the worst, the insomnia winning and his bed sinking. Living in a circle of kicking the bed sheets and grabbing them back as his mind was sure they would be the best shield for whatever lurked in the shadows when he slept. Suppose he manages to sleep at all.
Looking at the side of the bed, he held the knife close to his chest, his hand trembling as he reached for the doorknob as a shiver ran down his back. Could feel his heartbeat ringing in his ears as he quickly threw open the closet doors, deciding it would give any wanna-be assailant little time to react…
He felt even more like an idiot, but the wave of relief that was sent down his whole body was pure gold. His anxious brain loved to make him miserable.
“Fucking christ… Hehehehe… haaahh…”
Almost falling over, still holding the closet door that prevented his knee from touching the floor. Feeling now at ease that there was nobody in his room, getting and checking behind the blue bathtub curtains was a walk in the park.
Randy felt reassured as he calmly made his way back to the kitchen with a smile on his face, even getting into a giddy pace as he was already thinking of boiling an egg to accompany his ramen bowl. Taking the cap out of the pen and leaving the knife on the counter, he leaned down to cross the list and… And there was a new prompt.
“... Bedroom door?? Huh”
Randy was baffled by the prompt; he was sure it was new, and he had no other door in his bedroom other than his closet.
“.. Ehh, must have written the closet twice, whatever”
He went to the counter after crossing off the last three prompts. His mind must have skipped it before. Grabbing a little red pot from under the cupboard and leaving it in the sink as it started to fill with water, his mind started to fill with doubt.
… Looking down at the pot, it was… It was bothering him… Fuck it. Randall clicked his tongue and grabbed the knife again; he might as well go back to check the closet for calm of mind.
He started to stomp his way back to the hallway and into his room, feeling uneasy as the flooring did not squeak under his tantrum-worthy phase. He was crazy, he must be! He turned the corner and went into the room before stopping dead in his tracks, bewildered.
There was a door. It was a door he had never laid eyes on before…. An entryway that should not be there at all. The door was a desaturated red color, not matching the greenish wallpaper that surrounded it… It was right behind his bedframe… Oh, he IS going crazy, huh?
He stood there silently as he leaned over the entrance of his room, arms crossed as he was thinking what his next move should be. Finally deciding to go check it, letting a chuckle as he rolled his eyes and shuffled over the door. Thankfully, it had locks. Rusty ones, sure… but locks either way.
He checked it and locked the door as he went back to his kitchen. Stupid, the situation was stupid, he damn well knew it. Yet, he checked the list again.
- Check the bathroom door
What was this, a comedy?? What the fuck- He went back running, the knife being forgotten as it dropped on the floor. Another door, the same red color, was now on the other side of his bathtub. Quickly checking it once again, locking it as he giggled and went back to the kitchen. The sink was on the brink of overflowing as the pot blocked the drain. He did not dare look back at the fridge as he turned the faucet off and moved the filled pot onto the stove…
But he did check it again. His brain begged him to, and his nerves grew each time he returned to cross the seemingly infinite list, which grew larger each time and threatened to touch the floor under it with every crossed word.
- Check the living room door.
And again.
- Check the hallway doors
And again.
- Check the Kitchen door
And again.
- Check the windows
New windows.
- Check the attic door
He doesn’t have an attic.
- Check the closet hideout door
… Huh?
- Check the basement
He doesn't have a basement. It was hard to find the entrance to it under the carpet.
- Check under the bed
Finally! a normal request!... A normal request?
The walls, all of them covered in red doors, were mocking his already messy place of mind. He ignored what was behind the doors, flat-out refusing to explore it, fearing what could be behind them. He didn’t need, didn’t want this, why were things like this!...
Grabbed the knife from the floor again. Under the bed… Under the damn bed! That should be the first thing on his list! Of course, it was under the bed; he would hide under the bed-... Would he? Has he? Have their other victims checked there, too? No, of course not, who in their sane mind would…
He felt like puking as he made his way from the kitchen to the now-dark hallway, the light had broken off in one of his runs from and back. The floors stayed silent as Randy stepped forward. His room, now red, was silent as well. One could hear a pin drop. Sweaty hands held onto the knife he grabbed as he walked forward to his bedside, his instincts telling him to run, to get the fuck out of there. Yet the Apartment complex’s hallways were as uninviting as they ever were, oppressively dark as always. If this didn’t give him a heart attack, being outside the place will, he knows that.
Carefully dropping to his knees, stumbling and looking around the area for anything before taking a deep breath to calm himself as he finally decided to lean over and look.
… it. It, it was under there, it was there, making the floor dirty, staining them red as blood poured from his neck, a sickly smile having been carved out of his checks. It was himself, or what was left of him, his own dead eyes staring back. Randy stumbled back, wanting to cry, scream, but nothing came out as he crawled back in place till his back touched the closet door and-
Laughter, laughter right behind him, laughter so sick and twisted that it made Randy gag. It was Jeff, he came and kicked open the closet door, making Randy fall forward and pined the ginger in place, stepping over his back. Randy looked back, and Jeff-
“AHK-”
Randy’s whole body shivered as he started to pant in place, sweat coming down his face as he woke up from that nightmare. The pain in his left eye and nose becomes prominent the more he stays awake. He got a scowl on his face as his mouth moved, chipping the dried blood that came from his nose, worst of all is that he couldn’t scratch the itch of it all. He tried to move, to get up from the chair he was sitting in, but his wrists were tied together with an old rope that was burning his skin the more he tried.
“... shit… fucking great,” Randy sighed, starting to look around the place he was being held against his will.
To think a place sootier than the bar could exist was a surprise…
There was not much around except some concerning mold on the unkept walls that had suffered from clear water damage long ago. The light was not helping him look around, tinting the place and its dust particles a strong orange, yet it kept the shadows as ominous as possible. There was a set of stairs, chipped and old; He bet they were slippery too. The worst part of it all was how cold this… basement was. His work clothes were not suited for this kind of event; neither was he.
… Tired, he was tired, the ropes leaving their marks on Randy’s wrists as he continued to move around the uncomfortable seat. Whatever they had injected him with made the place start to spin around, bile coming up his throat. Yet, he swallowed the want to vomit, better die with the little dignity he can trust himself to control and have…
… Randy didn’t know how much time passed between him passing out and him starting to hear people talking upstairs. It made him nervous; somebody would come down here and greet him. He is not sure he’ll be able to take it. His legs were restless as the nerves came crawling up his back.
“[...] that doesn’t answer MY DAMN QUESTION!!”
Great, the voices are getting closer, Randy could only gulp his fear down and prepare himself to look confident and stubborn. The latter he might be, but the confident part has long left his body.
“I d-don’t have any - FUCK - a-answers, ask the O-ope-”
“THE OPERATOR IS A FUCKING CUNT OF A… OF A THING! OF A CREATURE!”
“I-I know. Go a-and just end it; I’ll be d-digging a hole i-in the gar-garden”
“... WHAT?”
“D-Didn’t he tell you t-to-”
“AND I WON’T??? GO RETURN HIM!”
“N-No can’t d-do-”
“YES YOU CAN? You and the other two bootlickers brought his ass here, YOU AND THE OTHER IDIOTS RETURN HIM-”
“T-The operator w-would kill u-us, it’s word n-not mine. Y-Your task now-”
“I prefer death”
“... Y-You do you m-man. I’ll go - SHIT - get the s-shovel”
“... UGH!”
The sound of something shattering could be heard from above before the basement door was swung open, the light from upstairs sweeping in and making Randy squint his eyes shut for a moment. The shadow of someone going down the set of stairs reflected all around the basement before the door was closed once again. The silhouette of whoever was coming Randy’s way stuttered, doubting its movement before continuing forward, their steps making the ginger fill with dread.
Randy looked down as he weighed his options, thinking of all the promises he couldn’t fulfill. Already saying his goodbyes in silence as the situation was more dire than he thought, what little he heard was not comforting in the sightless. He saw a pair of shoes stopping right in front of him. His hair was yanked up, making him unwillingly have to acknowledge his instigator.
His face held a mix of bemusement and horror as he recognized who was in front of him. That albino kid he once terrorized in his youth, that he threw into trashcans, that he dunked the head off into the toilets way back when. The same guy that once knocked him out, the same that his friend accidentally burned in an accident.
Jeff was… looking decent, he expected worse, burned and mangled, only finding scars in places like his mouth and arms thanks to the man rolling up his sleeves. His hair, once as white as his skin, was now dyed black except for some strands on the front. No longer the same, yet still the very Lakewoods he once knew years ago.
But Jeff was angry and frustrated, his expression told as such. He was breathing heavily as he leaned over, hands resting on the chair armrests now that Randy was examining him. Not the reunion he expected or ever wanted.
“... Been a while, huh?”
“... for sure h-has,” Randy managed to choke out despite his mouth quivering.
Silence once again took hold in the space between them as Randy moved his head to the side, looking somewhere else in a mix of fear and shame, remembering he truly used to have a crush on the guy that he once found to be so damn cute for some reason.
He chuckled as he got reminded of how badly he fucked that up. Jeff looked at the ginger as if he was crazy.
“What the fuck are you laughing at? huh?”
“Oh, nothing, heh… ...I was betting infection would have done you in”
“Fuck you too, buddy, coward, running away from everyone and being sooo hard to find. Not even a fucking sentence for you while Keith-”
“Leave him out of this; YOU attacked me first, So much for talking about a prison sentence when YOU should be behind bars for all the corpses you Love to leave around. Nobody cares about you anyways.”
“Hah! Nobody cares?? I have people who certainly care way more than your stupid friends ever did. Where are they huh? They have been watching you, and oh, no mention of them ANYWHERE -”
“Huh? Sure, right, right. Not like you JUST got the notice I was dragged down here into your fucking bullshit and had a temper tantrum like a little kid. Nobody cares, Jeffrey~ ”
With so little, Jeff was red, seething as Randy had a smug look on his face. It was the same little rush of awful confidence after winning a losing argument or after bullying Jeff. The same fake confidence that he was so familiar with. It made Randy sick to his stomach, but it was the only defense mechanism that came to mind right now. Hopefully, it would mean a fast death, a quick stab to the neck or two before the lights go out. Even with that face, he was still sweating; the mask was not perfect.
“You‘re so fucking full of yourself you don‘t even notice you‘re standing on the edge of a cliff, the ground crumbling underneath you as you‘re all alone and have no one to call home"
“And you killed your only home, need I remind you of that?”
“Need I remind you that your fucking Boyfriend tried to kill himself in prison? He didn’t even need my help-”
“OH, SHUT THE HELL UP- LOOK YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR WILL YA? YOU SHOULD BE FUCKING DEAD LIKE YOUR STUPID BROT-”
Jeff didn’t stutter as he punched Randy square in the cheek, making him and the chair fall back first onto the cold ground. The ginger looked to the side, chuckling once again as his mouth tasted like iron thanks to the laceration inside of it.
His looking around got disrupted as a foot stomped beside him force, the threat of getting crushed under it very present. Randy analyzed it as he moved backward from the sound, his thoughts revolving around as he struggled to process what was in front of him. Sharp claws were the first thing he noticed.
The sounds of flesh tearing and bones cracking, readjusting in a bloody manner all inside, were concerning. Randy did his best not to look up, his eyes glued to the paw in front of him as his life depended on it. For all he knew, his life depended on it. The orange light was now blocked by a black, hairy silhouette with two beady white eyes; the light reflected its drooling mouth and sharp teeth. It was all Randy could see as he glanced up before a big hand grabbed him by the chin, its claws threatening to pierce into the ginger’s checks as they put on the pressure, it demanded for Randy to face Him.
“Watch your fucking mouth, Randall, cause you don’t know Shit ”
The raspy voice made Randy shiver against his will as he bit his tongue down. Whatever this is, or means is nothing, they won’t get the satisfaction of a scream from him. Kicking his legs up but not even reaching the… man? Beast? The Monstrosity with his feet to push whatever’s left of Jeffrey away. The creature let out a gravelly chuckle, having fun in seeing how the tinier man tried and failed to get away from his grip. Randy hated every second of it, knowing the beast thought he was pathetic and that it was right.
“Heh… You’re lucky… I had decided I didn’t want revenge long ago. But you just love to push buttons, don’t you? ~ ... I am better than this. Hope you find a nice ditch to rot in without my help, you insignificant excuse for a man ”
Jeff spat out those last words with the most amount of hate and venom he could muster as he let go of Randy’s chin, the man’s head falling onto the chair. With that, Jeff made his way to the stairs and left Randy alone on the floor to process what the hell just had happened.
… And Randy tried, he did, but no logical explanation was working. After some minutes of silently staring back at the ceiling and hoping for answers to pop into his brain, he gave up. Resigning himself to escape, he once again started to try and get the ropes around his wrists to come undone. The task was much harder now that he and the chair were on the cold floor, his hands getting scratches on them as he painstakingly brushed them onto the uneven concrete.
There were no windows, the light on the ceiling shining endlessly, and there was no way to tell the time. Nobody came down, no water, no food, nothing but being alone with his thoughts… He didn’t know when he managed to fall asleep, but the sound of someone shuffling around woke him up suddenly. He was about to scream, but the stranger quickly put a hand on his mouth, getting one finger on top of his own, the universal silence sign.
Despite wanting to protest, Randy did as told. It was the same guy from before, but with no tinted glasses, and the facemask was down on his neck as it revealed a heavily lacerated check with teeth showing. He let go of Randy and was careful getting the chair back up again.
“S-shhh, i-it can’t know I-I’m here, or w-we’ll both be into -f-fuck- trouble… serious tro-tro-trouble…”
“... It?? what it? Jeff?-”
“N-no, why would J-Jeff be a pro-pro-problem??… I’m T-Tobias, by the w-w-way”
“...”
Toby was a bit nervous as Randy looked at him with disgust. Couldn’t blame him for that. He just didn’t want to worry Tim or Brian, knowing that Randy would hit him as soon as he was free. Truly couldn’t care less, if the man rushed up, he’d be killed by someone, but by then, Toby would have a guilt-free conscience.
“uhhh… I-I know you’re mad b-but uhh… I-I’ll take you out of here… J-just behave, or I-I’ll have to knock you o-out and carry you, w-which -shit- wouldn’t be fair for m-my back or w-wha-whatever.”
Not waiting for an answer from the ginger, Toby leaned over, sat on Randy’s lap, and got his bandaged hands over the rope to start trying and get them loose. The other man was shocked but made no further comment or resist, being tired, thirsty, and hungry all over.
“h-hehe, I f-forgot how good Brian was w-with knots… b-bastard doesn’t w-want to teach m-me. I-isn’t that cruel?”
“...”
“n-not a man of many w-words, h-huh? I-I was expecting the contrary a-after hearing h-how angry y-you managed to get Jeff. N-Never saw him t-that angry since T-T-Tim accidentally w-washed his s-scarf”
“... tsk… He started that…”
“s-sure, sure. He was s-stomping and s-seething after”
“... heh… do you guys have my phone?”
“N-Nope, Brian b-broke it in half and t-threw it”
“... fuck.”
Calling someone was out of the question. Randy hoped that he was at least getting a missing-person report the same day, but that probably wouldn’t be happening… He assured himself that Keith and Troy would be fine and not be nervous wrecks about their once-a-week call being delayed.
Toby was taking his time, as so many attempts to get the rope loose had made the knots tighter than they should have been otherwise. Randy let his head fall on Toby’s shoulder as the fatigue came back to him like a truck, and getting dizzy thanks to the pain of being hit hard on the head twice. It was not fun; his headache started to be agonizing as his ears started to fill with static.
Before he knew it, the hairs on the back of his neck stood, begging for him to wake up and ignore his aches, the adrenaline rush making his eyes tremble open as soon as he felt the warmth on his lap.
Toby was trembling, his lips silently quivering as he moved back to look at Randy, blood slowly coming out of his mouth and checked as he looked down to his stomach. Randy followed his eyes; a black tentacle had pierced the man, and it had barely stopped before going through Randy’s stomach. Toby’s hand went to his wound, which was bleeding a thick, dark red blood profusely onto Randy’s thighs.
“T-this is f-f-f-fine … t-this… I-I had w-worse!... h-he… hehehe… hehehehehehe- I-I’m f-fine! w-w-well be f-fine… w-we’ll be… h-haahh… y-yeah… w-w-we´ll… w-we…”
Toby continues to make no sense through slurred words while talking to Randy, but the words are obviously for his own comfort. This was not the end of things, no, not yet. They couldn’t be, he was still useful… Was he?
The ginger’s ears rang, the white noise making it slowly impossible to see as it inundated his vision all around. He felt his nose bleeding as bile and gall burned up to his throat and mouth as he involuntarily blacked out.