Outlast the Night

So This Is Hell...

His face.

His face was so badly f*cked up. Even in the pitch black darkness of the room; his face was cut up and blood crusted on his skin. His teeth flashing behind his bloody lips. It was...
Painful. The image left goosebumps on her skin. 

Her arms and legs shaking from all the running and fear coursing through her veins. The door handle imprinted onto her skin.
He had walked away from the window of the door and it was only a matter of minutes when he found her.

"Did I frighten you? I'm awfully sorry, I didn't mean to.

We've met before haven't we? I know I've seen your face.

Maybe... Just before I woke up.

Though it seems like a dream now, being here with you"

"Me too. I I fell as if we've we've known each other before."

How did he get in? Where is he?

Star crawled to the ground, scrambling to find a place to hide from Gluskin. If his "art" project was a sign of his mental state now, the unimaginable horror he is holding back. She slides underneath a bench looking for a source of light or even better a weapon of some kind. Waylons' or Miles' camera would be better than anything else. Her hands pushing the dirt and god knows what else in search for anything.

His footsteps grow closer towards her as he walks across the room. Not running or stomping. Walking a leisurely pace in search for her. Star couldn't tell if that scared her more.

"Love at first sight. Darling where are you?" His voice was laced in what is his version of concern. Star highly doubts that man has ever loved any of his victims.

Her way out would be to find the door he entered from, leave this place, and burn it all to the ground.

"It's so dark in here my" Star held back her tongue from calling him what she really could," love. I I need your help." If there was anything left in her stomach, it would be on the floor by now. She couldn't hate the man, but she didn't have to like him.

"Oh Darling of course I will help you. We will help each other. Let me fill you up. You don't have to be alone anymore." His voice was fading away from Star. His footsteps slowly moving into the silence. She did not want that man filling her up with anything!

A ghost of moonlight pushing through the ribbons of a curtain. Star carefully lowered her body further to the ground and slide across the floor. The shirts sliding up her thighs and turning into a rolled up bunch under her butt.

Ten seconds.

Ten f*cking seconds.

In those tiny wasted moments of freedom to roll down her shirts f*cking bloody shirts, Eddie Gluskin had wrapped his strong, callous hands around her waist turning her around to face this latest monster. The moonlight had highlighted all the bloody scars on his face. Red, bleeding blisters decorated his face with his eyes sharp with red and blue colors.

"Darling! There you are!"

A squeak or scream flew out of her lips as Eddie pressed her face into his chest. A distinct scent of metallic imbedded into his clothes. Star was able to see a flash of white and black before all the darkness was in her sight.

"Oh Darling I am so happy to have you back into my arms! Do not worry my love I will never let anyone hurt you again. You won't have to be alone anymore."

One hand clawing into her hair as a mean to calm her down. As a parent would comfort a crying child.

The other hand held his method of his victims meeting Death. The metallic blade tapping her exposed skin as if to tempt her to make her move.

"Me too my love. Me too."

********************************************************************************

Waylon had finally lost the sick man who calls himself Dennis. He jumped over the wall and found a staircase to "Gluskin's Hell". He remember Star telling him about this guy. A serial killer who murder women.

"Oh f*ck Star! Please don't be down here!' He whispered to himself. He set his camera to Night vision and followed his way into Hell. His breathing slowing down as he focused one step at a time.

One step at a time to find Star.

Honestly, it was those little moments with Star that made him fall in love with her. How she would ask about his day, his sons, and even his wife.

She would let him vent about how much he hated Murkoff and wanted to leave.

How she would give him small gifts of soda and candy when visited him on his lunch and in his corner.

The way she said his name when she smiled, when she laughed at his dumbass Dad jokes.

He could picture the moments of meeting his sons, forming a mother and son relationship with them, becoming co-parents with his ex-wife.

Having those picture perfect family moments of rushing morning routines , difficult bedtime routines with the boys and long nights before the grown ups went to bed.

Those stupid Sunday mornings of Star wrapped in the sheets they f*cked in the night before. Watching her wake up from a deep sleep as he kissed her bare shoulders as she played with his blonde locks. A wedding band on her left hand sliding down his back with his own ringed hand mirroring her actions.

That is going to happen; one way or another. I promise you Star. I promise.