16. Web

78 2 3
                                    

Rule #14 - Never deny your wrongdoings.

Day #32

No one's POV -

It had been a quiet few days, no one said a word. They just gave eachother troubled looks. Leshawna wasn't handling things very well, but she was trying. (She a bad bitch). She just keeps talking about how she's going to beat the killers ass. Funny, ain't it. This guy had killed so many teens, yet Leshawna thinks she could beat his ass? Comedy.

The most people were doing now was sleeping. They refused to leave camp as to not have another death. They aren't sure if they could handle it.

It was 10:19pm. Most were in bed, some sleeping, some kept up by utter paranoia. By 11, roughly everyone was asleep. You'd think the killer would back off by now, he wouldn't wander into a camp full of people just for one measly kill, right? Right?

.
.
.

Leaves crunching. No one heard. Everyone was sleeping, or their senses overtaken by their own thoughts.

The killer wasn't exactly slick when it came to sneaking around. But I don't think he'd care. He looked around, debating his choices. He could continue waiting, or he could speed up the process by taking one of them. Are they all in one cabin, or? There's nothing wrong with checking.

He stepped up the wooden planks supposed to resemble steps/stairs, taking a look through the small windows. One girl. Are they stupid? Why is she on her own? Whatever. It's perfect for the killer.

.
.
.

Before Courtney could even open her eyes fully, she was being dragged across the ground. Her fight or flight instincts kicked in, immediately flailing her legs as to either escape, or land a few kicks. That was shut down almost immediately by the killer grabbing, twisting and breaking her left leg almost in two. She couldn't even scream it happened so quick. She still tried to land some hits or kicks with her good leg.

The killer didn't even have a plan for her. He just started beating down on her. Whether it was anger, or pent up rage, he didn't know.

Blow after blow against Courtney's face sent her reeling back against the ground. She barely felt the pain, but she could feel the blood gushing from her nose. She lay limp on the ground, slowly feeling her consciousness slip as the killer landed his fists against her face and ribs. She heard multiple cracks before finally passing out.

He grabbed her hair, bringing her head up before hitting it off the ground. He dragged her limp and lifeless body across the ground to the nearby stage Chris never got around to using much.

He had an idea. A disturbing, yet beautiful idea. He took some hooks usually used to hang the sandbags, piercing it through certain parts of Courtney's body. Her legs, her arms, one in her hip, etc. 

He pulled her up in a pose disturbingly simular to a dance. After that? He simply left her.

.
.
.

After returning back to her cabin, Gwen found someone missing. Where's Courtney? She was only gone for 5-10 minutes to run to the bathroom. She comes back and Courts just gone? There was a sinking feeling in her gut, she felt as if looking for her was a lost cause. She quickly goes to the boys cabin without thinking. She practically banged on the door.

A tired Duncan opened it, "Jeez, Gwen. You forgetting there's a killer out he-" Gwen cuts him off, "Courts gone."
"What?" If he wasn't awake before, he surely is now. "Fuck do you mean "Courts gone"? Where is she?"
"How do you expect me to know?" She almost shouts. "..Jesus. Come on." Duncan grabs his shoes, trudging out of the cabins and down the small steps. "What?" She asks. "We're finding her." Duncan replies.

After some walking, they saw the lights.
"The stage?" Gwen says. "What stage?" Enquires Duncan. "The one Chris hasn't used yet. The lights are one, come on." She walks towards it.

Duncan is a few steps behind before he sees Gwen completely freeze. Oh god. "Gwen?" No response. "Gwen? Hello?" He jogs over to her, not looking at the stage yet. Gwens eyes seemed glued to the stage. He follows her stare.

His entire body tensed.

There she was. Strung, almost like a puppet. Or like a fly caught in a Web. She looked beautiful, almost peaceful. Although she was beaten, bloody and bruised, she still looked peaceful.

Duncan's legs felt weak. He felt sick. Gwen had finally snapped out of it, not wanting to see this anymore. She had to physically grab him to drag him back to camp.

It's not over. Will it ever be over? Are they never safe?

Bonjour. I feel like this one was very gruesome. Since there isn't much detail to their deaths on the og tiktok, so I kinda have to write around it. I don't want people to think I'm a violent person due to what I write. Just wanted to put that out there :)

Ty for reading, and since it's the summer, I'll probs actually update this. I wanna finish it. If you have any ideas or anything for other stories, let me know :D (it doesn't need to be total drama related either)

No Longer.Where stories live. Discover now