She's No Longer With The Band

Five.

Nate's Point of View:

I'm panting, I'm breathless, and yet I'm sprinting.

Sprinting, running. It's something I never thought I'd be able to achieve a month ago.

And although it feels fucking incredible to be able to move by myself at such a high speed on my own two feet, I've been running this fast for a few minutes now, and I'm quite literally already gassed. Since I haven't been able to hit any cardio after the accident, I'm extremely out of breath...

But nonetheless, we still run as hard as we can.

Dark pieces of hair keep falling out of the bun I'm finally able to put it into. The pieces of hair are distracting, constantly falling across my face and blocking my vision as I'm running. I'm trying my hardest to stay focused, constantly swiping them out of my eyes, but I don't have time to stop and pull back the strands that are framing and are sprawled across my face. I have to keep running because I'm being chased.

Being chased, huh, I never though I'd miss that.

My thick platform boots make a loud obnoxious noise with each time they crash against the hard pavement. My heart is pounding out of my chest as I search for somewhere to go in this sick twisted abandoned mental hospital that's not fucking freaky at all. God I feel like I'm in a horror movie or some shit, and I can't believe that I'm still apart of this game. Of this goddamn mafia.

The goal this time is to get the money from this group of guys in exchange for us trading them some supplies. Like it is every fucking time.

So, I got the money from said group of guys, however we were short on some of the supplies. So instead of lingering around there, I bolted.

Running through this parking garage, I have no fucking idea where Dean, Brendan, and Jackson went. After I started running, I lost sight of the three of them which isn't great at all. I don't know where I'm going, I can't find an exit, and god forbid the group of guys catch me, this might be my last few minutes on earth.

God how fucking embarrassing would that be? Dying in an abandoned mental hospital, trying to protect a wad of cash for an evil psychotic money hungry killer.

My legacy would be tarnished.

But I don't feel like dying today, maybe tomorrow, but not today.

I couldn't hear the two guys that had been following me, but I knew they were still behind me. So naturally, I turned one corner and pretended like I was continuing to go that way but then stuck myself to the wall like glue so that they'd think I kept running straight. Luckily it worked and they ran past me in a frenzy.

I took a deep breath and wiped some sweat off of my forehead. I then turned a corner and ran down the stairs in an attempt to find one of the guys and or an exit. To my absolute wonderful fucking luck, I ended up in the freakishly large massive basement filled with jail cells for the people who were clinically mentally ill would reside.

Christ I feel like I'm in Silence of the Lambs right now.

It wasn't dark which was strange. I mean that there were some lights on which made me feel even more perplexed because what are the odds that some of the guys would be down here. I continued to walk forwards, making sure I was aware of my surroundings, and that's when I heard some fighting followed by gasps and grunting.

Like every dumbass in a horror movie, I began to slowly and quietly walk towards the noise, unsure of who was even fighting unless it were the guys.

Like who the fuck else is going to be in an abandoned mental hospital at midnight on a Thursday?