Chapter 16: Scalpel

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AN: hiiii here is my once-in-a-bluemoon submission lol. 

Katherine's POV:

I still can't wrap my head around it...

Why does he have a picture of me?

I don't understand. I want to ask him about it as soon as possible, but they still can't find him. Is there something I don't know about this place? I mean, I can ask Slenderman, but I'd rather not...He's too intimidating. 

I dust myself off and take a seat on one of the chairs in the living room. This whole thing is giving me a headache. I close my eyes and take a small nap then and there. 

 "Hey! Get some help Jeff's Back" someone yells.

My eyes shoot open and I jump up out of my seat. Everyone comes running out into the courtyard. I turn my gaze toward the commotion and can make out a silhouette. It's him. A swarm of bodies envelops Jeff and suddenly I can no longer see his frame. The amalgamation of desperate and hurried voices creates a knot in my stomach. Whatever happened to him, it wasn't good, that much I knew.  I attempt to get closer and inspect him myself but no sooner had I taken a step than the huddle ushered him inside. 

As I follow everyone into the lower chambers of the mansion, I realize that these were a place of which I had not yet ventured into. The staircase leading us toward a dark, cobbled, and damp scene, seemed to be made entirely out of stone. This level of the estate was primarily used for reasons which called for the utilization of medical instruments; I could not say for the exact intent of their use, seeing as how the individuals around me aren't exactly known to be doctors. 

It was Jack who was carrying Jeff's very limp body. He placed him on a large slab table. I can finally see him up close now. 

He looked awful.

His legs, arms, hands, all covered with cuts and bruises. It was as if no part of him was not harmed. The worst spot was his leg. A grotesque gash; entry point the size of a golfball. The skin surrounding the injury was a blotchy red and purple. I could see the grime and puss seeping out of the tear in his jeans. Infection. Jack quickly takes a pair of sheers and cuts off his jeans. The group takes a couple steps back, giving them both some breathing room. His whole body looked so hollow. As if he were some sort of puppet the entire time, he lays on the table completely still. I don't think he's awake. 

Jack begins to work on Jeff's wounds, and I find myself wanting to reach out to him. To Jeff. My presence is not needed here. A growing nervousness begins to soil my insides. I want to be away from this scene. 

I begin heading back upstairs. I'm sure Jack is accustomed to closing injuries of that nature. He'll be okay...right? 

What the hell happened to him?




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