About two minutes go by and I reach the outskirts of a clearing where I see a dark figure moving within the trees. I quickly drop to my knees and crawl towards a large bush to hide behind.
I take a deep breath and feel my diaphragm begin to shake with anxiety. Please don't let this be another terrible idea. However, the doubt had already set in and the feeling of regret crept over my shoulders, sending chills all down my back.
Slowly, I peek my head above the bush.
The man with the buzzed head is there, hovering above one of Damien's friends. However, Damien and his other bandmate are nowhere to be seen. His friend is lying there, his face is not visible to me. The man's large back is blocking my view. He has taken off the sweater he was wearing, exposing the white t-shirt he had on underneath.
My eyes trail over to the large claw marks on his left shoulder that have left large rips in his shirt. Underneath the protruding tears, he is bleeding out a dark, inky liquid that is actively staining his clothes.
Damien's friend begins to writhe around on the dank forest floor. His legs are twitching and any screams I might have heard before, have now turned into helpless, zombie-like groans. The buzzed-headed man cranks back his meaty arm and swings it forward, hitting Damien's friend repeatedly with his large fist. The sounds of crunching and squishing echo throughout the solemn forest.
