Just a dream (I can feel you staring at me)

Chapter 21: Revenge tastes so sweet, yet it's best served cold

Walking these steps down, the man and his shadowy ghost walking right behind him, was terrifying.

A lump had formed in his throat, his hands feeling so goddamn cold.
He knew, he brought this upon himself, it was his idea and yet he still felt so scared.

He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to get hurt or lose even more to the man than he already has, and yet he told himself that his sacrifice was worth it.
Daniel was just next door. He was just a few feet away, and maybe..maybe if they were quick they could save him.

Only five more steps.

Finn ignored the stomach acid rising in his stomach, the fear burning up inside of him and swallowing him whole.
He wanted to turn around, to just run away.

Hide in some bushes or something, so the man couldn’t find him.
He was shaking as he stepped onto the fourth step.

The burning glance on his neck was there. It was so so strong.

What would the Grabber do to him? Would he try to play naughty boy again? Or would he act differently?
Finn didn’t plan on staying in here for long, and yet he couldn’t stop his mind from thinking- no fearing was a better way to put it, what would happen, if the others were too late?

The man was already touching his shoulder, playing with his hair.
It was disgusting.
He felt disgusting.

Three steps.

Albert was talking about something, and Finn felt the gaze get so much more. It felt like claws were tearing at his shirt, trying to push him down. And yet he kept his steps steady. He didn't want to show fear. He didn't want to give the two monsters lurking behind him any more satisfaction.
He didn't listen to the Grabber. He couldn't bring himself to.

Two steps.

He felt his eyes tearing up, as he saw the basement, the door already opened up for him.
From what he could see, the bottom door would be the door Player has talked about.
The one they couldn't allow to be closed.

The claws felt like they dug deep into his skin, it felt like a hot, steamy breath was directly on his neck.
He swallowed hard, tried to focus on what the Grabber was saying, but ultimately failed.

One step

He felt the claws, their cold touch that felt so disgusting and slimey, crawl all over his body.
Then, the phone began to ring.

His eyes burned, he wanted to cry. To scream. But he didn't. He was afraid. He was panicking. He was praying, praying to whatever god had turned his back to him so many times. And yet, in the most vulnerable situation he could imagine himself in, he prayed. Prayed that everything would be okay.
That they’d live, and he’d die.

He felt disgusting. He felt so weak at this moment, and yet he didn’t allow himself to cry or scream.
He needed to keep calm. He needed to act.
He couldn’t allow himself any mistakes.
Everything depends on him. If he’d fail, blood would be on his hands.

He stepped onto the basement floor and didn’t look up. It was dirty, dusty.

Finn wondered, why a floor made his heart pound even faster, why he felt his knees starting to shake. It was so much harder to keep the mask up, to act though when all he wanted to do was cry.

Then, something caught his attention, making him focus on something else than his rising panic.

Shadows.
Bloody and yet transparent shadows were lurking in the corners of the basement, staring at him, as the Grabber walked up behind him.
The older man leaned down, placing his head on Finney's shoulder.