Steven
This isn't how I anticipated it to end. I always secretly hoped for a fairy tale sort of ending where I find the love of my life, and we drive down some dusty California road together into a blazing red and orange sunset, sticking to each other through thick and thin until natural causes too their toll. I still long for that ending even though it's blatantly clear I'm not getting it.
I'm not going to receive a nice ending that's short and painless; I'm going to get pain and misery in a sick twisted game of hide and go seek with a figure named blurryface who's obviously got it out for me.
Currently that game was in process with me hiding in the garage, a small gardening hoe in hand as I wield it prepared to try and fight. Inside I could hear all the damage happening in the loud clunks of various items hitting the ground.
It was torture being trapped in the garage, squatting in the corner in a defensive pose trying to look dangerous but failing. All that was currently happening was a searing pain in my calves and my body trembling in fear which is a terrible combination.
The thumping sounds grow louder and I swear I can hear my heart pounding in my chest. Adrenaline kicks in at this point, my fight or flight instinct, and I honestly feel the urge to run away but there's no where to run. I'm trapped in the corner waiting for my end.
The door flies open and I feel my heart drop into my stomach as the shadowy figure that had confronted me before comes into sight. The shaking of my hands grows more intense as it spots me. The defensive pose I'd settled into makes me feel more like a child cowering in the corner with a stupid gardening hoe as a weapon. As the shadow advances I realize I have to act now.
"Leave me alone!", I shriek, jumping forward and swinging the hoe right through the figure. The shadowy figure dissipates into thin air, and I can't help but crack a smile as I relax.
I did it, he's gone.
Low laughter full of malice echoes from behind me, and I feel my blood run cold. I quickly turn around, my weapon falling to the ground with a clatter. Transparent black fingers reach up toward my forehead poised like a gun just as before. My legs are urging me to run far away from here, to duck, to do anything but stand here. Yet I can't seem to will my body to move, and so I stand there with a fear stricken look as the laughter surrounds me.
"I've never been gone Steven."
Two fingers representing the guns barrel are pressed to my forehead, and it's thumb juts forward emitting a loud boom as I collapse to the ground, everything going black.
James
Aleks is going mental at this point, pacing the room like a cat in cage. His hair is still in its bed ridden state and facial hair becomes more ragged each day. His attire had changed too as now he mainly dawned sweatpants instead of jeans. Each day he slowly became less like Aleks and more of a stranger while I stood by watching him deteriorate.
In a split second decision I decide to confront him.
"Aleks.", I say loudly. This causes him to jump, eyes wide in fear as he looks at me startled beyond belief.
"W-What?", he asks.
"Aleks what's wrong with you?", I ask attempting to approach him. He scuttles further away not letting me get anywhere near him.
"James go.", he demands.
"Aleks what's wrong?"
"James fucking go."
"Why I'm trying to help you dammit!", I exclaim throwing my hands in the air.
"James, go right now!"
"Why Aleksandr!"
"Because it's coming to kill me and then you're fucking next!"
