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A Gorey Demise

For the next couple of days, it feels like the events early in the week were just a dream. As though the experience has been put on hold, nothing scary happens. No more drugs, scary buildings, or dead people. She goes to the kitchen to make coffee, notices the water is boiling hot coming out of the faucet, and almost burns herself turning it off.

The temperature inside is a good ten degrees colder than it should be. There is a mundane tapping at the windows as she moves around the apartment. The noise follows her and once she even pulls the blinds to see nothing tapping on the glass. Still, compared with the last couple of nights, this feels like a step in the wrong direction. Perhaps, she thinks, they wanted to start things off strong and then lead her into a false sense of security.

Well, if that is the case, it's working. She's never been so bored on a day off. The creature is taking time to itself elsewhere, and she is alone. So she calls up one of her friends to come over and hang out so she can tell them for at least the first couple of nights.

Moira comes over, and they spend the next few hours drinking coffee and chatting about the week's events.

"So the actor who's been following you around just..stopped? Maybe they're just taking a short break from the costume. Sounds sweaty."

"You know, I keep calling it just a creature, but it reminds me of something straight out of folklore. Some nature deity of life and death ya know?" Hazel says. "What if I call it Leshy. Kinda looks like something I've seen only in art."

"That sounds accurate," Moira agrees. "Maybe that's where they took inspiration for the design."

The apartment buzzer sounds and startles both of them.

"I'm not expecting anyone or any packages," Hazel says, hesitating to buzz them in.

"Maybe it's part of your horror thing?"

"Yeah, but-"

The buzzer stops, and Hazel hears something crack below them, as though the doorknob has been turned too far and the lock snaps. Then heavy footsteps come up the stairs and a figure drenched in blood opens the door.

He steps into the room, not waiting for an invite, and closes and locks the door behind him. There's a metallic collar around his neck complete with flashing purple lights.

For a moment, Hazel remembers that Leshy had one of those when things first started, but she'd almost immediately broken it, and after that Leshy had just stopped attacking.

She isn't sure if that means anything really. Maybe it's a gimmick. Part of the show.

He is tall, uncannily human-like but not.

Hazel backs away, and a sense of dread fills her stomach. There is no way out unless they jump off the second-floor balcony.

He looks around the room and smiles. There's blood in his teeth and the smell is rancid like he's been eating raw, dead fish and never brushes. He stops to look over the room, then reaches for Moira so fast they barely have time to react. He pulls her off-balance and she falls between the couch and the coffee table, narrowly missing her head.

His attention snaps to Hazel and he slams her into a wall. She struggles to breathe as he squeezes the air from her lungs, her face against the wall. He pulls her arms back and something sticks to her wrists until she can't move them.

He looks over at Sadie and tilts his head, "Who do you think I should work on first? Your friend, or your dog?"

Sadie's lips curl into a growl, a warning.