Chapter 2

You wake up to the sun rising and the birds chirping their morning song. The sky is a gorgeous purple and orange, and the clouds are in beautiful swirling shapes. Everything should be perfect in the world.

But it isn't.

Because you're sitting outside, in red and gold stained pyjamas - your ass wet from the morning dew. You're cold, confused and can't remember for the life of you how you ended up out here.

And the worst part is you can tell the red on you and staining the ground is definitely blood.

Actually, the worst part might be the golden glitter.

The glitter was certainly the most mysterious, the blood was horrifying, but the liquid gold that had gone hard on your clothes looked… pretty. It was quite a contrast to the bloody scene that was you. The gold covered most of your skin, and the blood covered the rest of you.

At least, you think you're unharmed, this must be someone else's blood.

You look to your right, on the ground is a boy.

A boy covered in blood. Wow, you guys are matching!

You let loose a shriek of terror at seeing the body. Where did he come from? Is he dead? What happened last night!?

Slowly, you crawl to the boy's body, shaking with every movement. He's lying on his stomach at the moment, so you roll him over (gently) onto his back. His eyes are closed, and it seems that whoever did this to him and you also…

Cut a smile onto his face.

You flinch back at the horror of what you're seeing, but the kind soul you had (the one that always got you into trouble) demanded that you try and help this guy. You inspected him some more, noticing most of the blood was centred around his chest. You want to check his pulse, but you can't find one - so, that's a bad sign, you think.

You can barely feel your body, but you still need to call the police, so you drag yourself towards the house. Once inside you pick up the home phone, and call the police, informing them of your situation.

You know you shouldn't be this calm, but you believe you're in shock… or something. You decide to go see your guest again, while you wait for the police to arrive. Your shaking form stumbles outside to see the boy.

But he's on his stomach again? He must've moved - good, means he's alive. You let out a sigh of relief and bend down to his level, sitting cross-legged on the ground next to him.

"Um, buddy, you wanna go inside? Actually, that's a bad idea. The cops and ambulance are on their way-" you murmur, gently to him.

"No! T-tell 'em to fuck off!" the boy groans, not lifting his head from the ground. He rolls over and squints open one eye at you. You both make eye contact, and you smile sweetly at him.

"How the fuck are you alive?" he asks incredulously.

You snort.

"I could ask the same about you… Do you remember what happened to us? I sure don't!" you say, staring down at the boy with a smile cut onto his face.

Yikes… really creepy.

He stays silent, squinting his dark stormy grey eyes at you.

"...Alright, bud, don't have to say anything to me, but the cops will want to know," you tell him, breaking eye contact to awkwardly scratch the back of your neck.

An awkward silence fills the space as the boy stares at you. You can't bring yourself to look back at him, so the only way you know he's staring at you is the uncomfortable feeling of being judged.

The boy finally looks away, makes a sound of discontent, and pulls himself into a seated position.

"Uh, maybe you should just-"

"Shut up!" he barks at you, pulling himself onto his feet.

Woah.

You were worried this guy was dead a few minutes ago! And now the idiot was standing up like he hadn't almost bled to death. He also told you to shut up, which was mean, but he has gone through a rough time…

You decide not to comment.

The boy starts stretching his arms, his shaggy black hair falling in front of his face. He looks down at you and grins in a… deranged way.

Yikes, this guy is not a pretty guy.

Whatever, you weren't one to judge. You pull yourself up onto your feet, not appreciating the extra height this already tall kid had on you.

Actually, he might be an adult, you couldn't particularly tell by his appearance.

You think about asking him, but then you make eye contact with him and freeze up.

His pupils were little pricks in his crazed stare, you immediately break eye contact.

You were starting to believe that he might've been part of the attack on you as well. His demeanour certainly screamed violent, honestly you had no idea why you'd ever thought well of him - actually, it was likely because you were a naive idiot.

The only time's you weren't afraid was when you should be.

"Alright, bitch-" he starts speaking.

"Rude, much?" you cut him off, turning your head back to stare into is his eyes.

Well, you were afraid… but it seemed when put in a life-threatening situation you took on a more headstrong attitude than usual. Well, you guess you'll find out if that attitude is useful.

Your stare drags down from his eyes to his lips, scanning the scars along them. You're not disgusted by them, to your surprise, more curious. Upon further inspection, it's obvious these scars are old - but it looks like they're agitated often.

The scarred lips twist into a smirk.

"You like what you see?" he asks, grinning down at you.

The fuck? What gave him that idea?

"You've got a lot of confidence for someone who smells like he hasn't showered in years," you tell him, a scowl marring your face.

His smirk turns into a copy of your scowl.

And then you're upside down and staring at his blood-covered hoodie. He begins to stride off into the woods, and you begin thrashing around.

"Put me down, you huge oaf! I'll fuck you up!" you start screeching from your position upside down over his shoulder.

"A lot of confidence for someone as light as a feather," he comments over his shoulder, in a decidedly smug tone.

You hiss at his use of your words fired back at you.

After a while of struggling you give up, the blood pooling in your head starting to give you a headache. He seems to relax his hold on you a little, and a part of you wants to fight back.

The larger part just wants to let him take you wherever he's going, and have a nap.

You doubt you can have a nap upside down, so you ask if you can change positions. Which definitely makes you look like an idiot, but you couldn't last much longer like this.

"Hey, buddy-" you start.

"I am not your buddy, I am kidnapping you. We are not buddies," he hisses out the last word.

"Aight. Hey, kidnapper, can I have a piggyback ride instead of this? I want to have a nap and the blood pooling to my head is giving me a headache,"

He stops and you bang your forehead against his back, then he lets go of you and you drop to the ground - not landing on your head, luckily.

Still hurts like a bitch.

The rocks and twigs of the forest floor dig into you, leaving bruises and cuts.

"Oof," you wheeze out.

"We're here, get up," he orders you.

You really don't like him.

You pull yourself to your feet, dusting off your knees, wincing as your hand glides along a scrape. You look up at the wooden cabin, it seemed cosy with a smokey trail floating out of a stone chimney. But there was something unsettling about the house.

The unsettling part about it was that it was around 6 in the morning and you were brought here against your will.

So in the end, not so cosy.

The bastard wraps a rust-red hand around your arm and tugs you toward the cabin's entrance. He pulls you up the small set of stairs and knocks - impatiently, you notice - on the door.

"Jack! I'm back, and I think I have a weirdo with me-"

The door swings inside at his words and a blue mask greets us.