Running through the woods with heavy gear wasn't the best when running away from a killer, but it was good for when I needed to set up camp in an open clearing. But going back to being chased down. I still don't know who or what it is, their movements seem almost unnatural at times. Just when you thought you were safe around a corner it was already staring daggers into your back. Still not being able to know where it might be is a frightening prospect enough let alone the fact they might not be human was another game entirely.
Ahead of me there are two different paths so I slowed down and tried to calm down, but in the end something feels off. The air is still like stone and it smells of mold. Looking around there was an ax stuck in a log. "Could I even try to take a life?" The thought didn't sit in my head for long but the effect stayed there with a heavy sense of what it entailed. The wind rushed through my hair and some of it flew over my eyes. When I got my hair out of my eyes I could see the thing standing there, no weapon in hand like I thought but I could still feel the piercing glare through the dark shadow that was covering its face.
In a last ditch effort I ran for the ax, the creature wasted no time to pursue. Reaching out for the handle it felt good, my fingers fit right into place and I was able to lift it after a fex tugs. Lifting my arms to swing down the new weapon the creature grappled me and held me in a hug near my waist. It wasn't enough to keep from swinging down. It reared its head at the final moment and I split it head with enough force for the blade to continue into the torso. The issue wasn't that there was blood in fact there was none at all.
What came out of the corpse was a black ink-like substance, the body moved again and held on to me in the same position. Trying to pull back the ax it was too late the ink had covered my arms and kept me immobile. Then the ink formed into a body and I was looking into the great white eyes of this creature. It was like a deer in headlights, I was unable to move or react. It raised a hand and was slowly moving it towards my face as if to grab it. It felt so hard and cold as if ice was pressing into my face. I couldn't breath but the grasp loosened on my head, I couldn't see either. I felt the ink leave my hands and I felt my face. I had no eyes or mouth or nostrils, only skin sat where they belong.