Afraid of the Dark

Çhāptęr Twënty-Thrêę

Tyler had opened his eyes slowly, groaning with pain as he turned his head to look directly at the ceiling, momentarily forgetting where he was as his thoughts seemed to lag. He stared up towards the faux-crystal chandelier that dangled above his head, slowly swaying from side to side as it turned in a small circle on a draft that the American man couldn't feel, sending sparkling spots of lights dancing across the walls in a sluggish and unenergetic movement. Tyler's thoughts gradually trickled back into his head, and his eyes widened with realisation.

He hastily pushed himself into an upright position on the floor, rubbing his temples and gritting his teeth as his head seemed to throb at the movement, a burning sensation lining the insides of his nostrils that felt clogged. Gently, the American man rubbed it and hissed with pain as he felt something crunch as he did so, pulling his fingers away to see that they were flaked with drying blood. He glanced around, looking for any of his friends - or his enemies - within the supposedly haunted house. However, there was no one around; a fact which worried him.

He acutely remembered the situation he had recently been in, with the lights having turned off while the group of three were at the top of the stairs, and the confusion in Mark's voice as he felt someone else's hand on the light switch, before a sudden kick to Tyler's side had sent him tumbling down, slamming his head against the wooden steps. The next thing he knew, he had woken up alone. So where had everyone gone?

He knew better than to simply shout people's names; he'd just be asking for Anti to come and find him, and that was not something he could afford to face right now. He may have been awake, but he certainly wasn't as 'aware' as he could have been. His movements were slightly delayed, and it was taking him a little longer to process the things running through his mind, indicating that Tyler was still very clearly dazed, and in no place to try and fight or defend himself.

Instead, he grabbed onto the stair rails and pulled himself up to his feet, hesitating a few seconds before trying to walk as his vision distorted slightly. The feeling passed soon enough, and he cautiously began to make his way up the steps, looking over his shoulder every now and then to be safe. When he reached the top of the staircase, he felt himself tense as he saw the state of the hall. A dark pool of blood was smudged across the floor, with a trail of crimson footsteps forming two different trails; one towards the bathroom, the other away from the bathroom and towards the stairs.

"Oh God..." the American man murmured, pushing his hands into fists to try and stop them from shaking. He looked towards the open bathroom door as a million different scenarios shot through his head on what he was about to walk into. There could be nothing, or there could be more blood, or there could be a body, or there could be multiple bodies. A large part of him did not want to find out what awaited him, but he had to do this. It was the only way he was going to get answers. Tyler braced himself as he took the last few tentative steps forward, reluctantly walking a few paces into the room.

He felt dizzy as he looked around, trying and failing to stay calm as he saw the bathroom that looked as if it had been part of a scene in a SAW movie. There wasn't a body, but there was a terrifyingly large amount of blood. It was smeared down a wall, puddled on the floor, and stepped around the room. The overpowering metallic scent pushed into his nose and made him gag, as he braced himself against the doorway to stop himself from falling. There was so much blood. Too much blood. If someone had lost that much, they would most certainly be dead. But there was no body. He repeatedly glanced towards the blood pool, conflicted as to what he thought about it. There was no body, nor was there any sign that a body had been dragged away. So... that meant no one had died, right? Tyler couldn't do anything more than hang on to that one hope.

He glanced around the room, taking in the other worrying sights. The broken handle and snapped metal blade of a kitchen knife that lay in different places across the room, the broken doors of a medicine cabinet that hung off of its hinges, the shattered mirror that lay in splinters across the floor and inside of the sink. "What happened in here?" he whispered in a hoarse voice, turning around momentarily to check the corridor outside, looking for anyone else, but no one was around.