Marble Hornets Your POV

P2. A stranger?

"Long time no see, Y/N," the man says with a calm voice. Anger, sadness, and rage start to boil in me. 

"You fucker, you motherfucker!!" I say with rage.

"No need to be angry with me now!" he says.

"No need to be angry? Alex... you killed my parents years ago. I still don't know why you did that. And now you dare to show up in my house, holding me at gunpoint. What are you thinking?!!"

"I will tell you after you start packing the stuff you want and need."

I do as he told me because there is still a gun pointed at my head. I grab my bag and put my laptop, cameras, tapes, chargers, and some other things in it. I also grab my money and my parents' money that was left behind in the house, as well as some knives for protection, in case anything happens. I'm done grabbing the stuff and walk to Alex, who is now in the kitchen.

"You're done, I see?" he says. I lean against the kitchen counter and nod my head.

"Good. The reason I killed your parents is because I need this house. That's why you are going to leave it," Alex says. My head is full of questions.

"Why do you need this house? It's worth nothing," I say.

"True, but that's not why I want it. This house is protected. I don't know how or why, but that figure can't come in the house, nor near it. That's why I need it."

"What figure?" I ask stupidly.

"Y/N, I know you have seen him a few times as well."

I look at him. "Well... I'm not leaving the house. This is my house, and now, knowing it's protected, I'm certainly not leaving." 

Alex points the gun at me again.
"Yes, you are." I now have to do what he says; otherwise, this could be my death.
I slowly walk towards the front door, open it, and walk out, with Alex walking behind me.

'The men in the car see what's happening. They see that Alex is holding me at gunpoint as I walk outside. "Wtf is Alex doing in their house?! And why is he holding them at gunpoint?" they ask themselves.'
With Alex still behind me, not knowing I took another knife from the kitchen, I quickly turn around and throw the knife in his direction, completely missing him. "Fuck..." I mutter to myself.
I run as fast as I can to my motorcycle. While running, Alex shoots me in the side of my leg. Luckily, not in my leg, but close enough to leave a big scar. I feel the pain but keep running. I put on my helmet and drive away as fast as I can.
'The men see what is happening and start to follow me again. "We need to know what is happening to them," one of the men says.'

~
~

After about 10 minutes of driving, I arrive at a store. I need groceries anyway, and I need my wound fixed.

I walk up to the cashier and ask the staff member if they have any bandages and supplies. As I show the wound, they take me to a chair where I can sit and wait. While they are getting the supplies, one of the men from the car comes into the store and looks at me, noticing the wound.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, it's just a scratch," I tell him.

The staff member comes back with the bandages and supplies. The man politely grabs the items from the staff.

"Thank you, I'll help them from here," he says to the staff member.

"Here, let me help you," he says politely.

I agree, and he helps me fix the wound.

"How did this even happen?" he asks.

"I think a rock hit me while I was driving my motorcycle," I lie.