---𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞 (𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘵: 𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐖𝐍)

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞

⸻Sam woke to a nightmare. Her soul felt strained, as if it were trying to escape her body, but the immediate reality was far worse. She was tied to a rolling chair, her wrists and ankles bound tightly. A sharp pain throbbed on her forehead, and she felt something warm trickling down her face. Blood, she realized, but she couldn't reach up to confirm it.

She blinked, trying to make sense of her surroundings. The room was dimly lit, filled with shadows and unfamiliar shapes. Panic surged through her as she struggled to remember how she had ended up here.

It all came flooding back in a rush of clarity. She had been in the midst of taking a bath, the soothing strains of classical music setting the mood for what she had hoped would be a peaceful and relaxing evening. The warmth of the water, the soft glow of the candles—everything had been perfect. But then she felt it: the unmistakable sensation of being watched. She had cursed herself for not locking the door.

Her clothes, the ones she had arrived at the mountain retreat in, were gone. At first, she thought it was a prank by Josh or Chris. She planned to ask Kida for spare clothes since they were sharing a guest room, but Kida wasn't around. Sam had decided to take matters into her own hands, stepping out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. That's when she saw them: balloons and candles, eerie in their placement, with arrows pointing the way to the media room.

She had followed the trail, her curiosity mixed with growing apprehension, until she found herself locked in the media room. The psycho's trap had sprung, his voice echoing through the theater room while footage of her vulnerable state in the bathroom played on the screen. She watched in horror as the scene shifted to Josh being killed by a saw blade, the grisly sight breaking her heart.

The memory of the cat-and-mouse chase that ensued was vivid. The psycho, carrying a gas tank, had pursued her through the house. She had run, desperate and terrified, but he had finally caught up with her, knocking her unconscious. Now she was here, wherever here was, and she feared she would be the next to receive a visit from him.

Sam strained against her bonds, the ropes biting into her skin. She looked around, her eyes scanning the room for anything that might help her escape. Her thoughts turned to her friends: Chris, Ash, and Kida. She wondered if the psycho had gotten to Emily and Matt as well. The uncertainty gnawed at her, but she knew she couldn't give in to despair.

Suddenly, a voice whispered urgently to her, cutting through the oppressive silence.

"Sam... Sam, wake up!" It was Mike, his voice hoarse and urgent.

Sam's eyes darted around until she spotted him through a wall grate in the adjacent room. Relief and confusion washed over her.

"Mike! Is that you?!" she whispered back, her voice tinged with desperation.

"Shhh!" Mike cautioned, glancing around nervously. "Get over here!"

With all her remaining strength, Sam pushed her weight on the rolling chair, inching her way towards the grate. Her heart pounded in her chest, both from the exertion and the fear that the psycho could return at any moment.

Once she reached the grate, Mike pulled out a lighter, the small flame flickering in the dim room. He carefully burned through the ties binding her wrists, freeing her hands. He then passed the lighter to her, and she did the same for her ankles, wincing as the ropes fell away, leaving raw, red marks on her skin.

As she stood up, massaging her sore wrists, Sam's mind raced with questions. "I don't understand... How did you get here? How did you find me?"

Mike's face was strained, his eyes dark with worry. "There's some fucking maniac up here on the mountain—"