swine | ☆

● chapter 26. ○

CWs: childhood trauma, child abuse, violence, underage intoxication

skip the first and only ♡°•.♥︎.•°♡ if the first three warnings are too much. again, i'll give you a summary of everything you need to know if asked.

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Rain hit Y/n's face, mixing with the anxiety-induced tears in his eyes and thoroughly blinding him. He stumbled through the dampened streets, conscious of how easily he could slip but making no attempt at slowing his rushed, frantic pace.

This had happened before.

It was terrifying just how much Y/n was shaking. Could be the cold, could be the raw fear he felt at the thought of his best and longest friend being gone.

This had happened before.

The moment those words had left Casey's mouth, Y/n had ran out the door. Chris had tried to stop him, but only verbally, and Y/n was able to get out. He didn't even know where he was going. He'd call out Erin's name if he could speak. If he could be heard, over the violent pattering of the rain against the concrete sidewalks. Nobody was outside at this time of day. Nobody was stupid enough.

This had happened before.

Please, please, please, please, Y/n begged, prayed to whatever higher being may be out there, don't let it be too late. Let him be okay.

Y/n tried to forbid the lines between past and present from blurring together, but, after all, this had happened before. Y/n could only hope that now would stray from then in the sense that it was not too late. Because then it had been far, far too late for Y/n's friend. By the time they'd been able to contact someone, their fate was already set. Prominently enough that even they knew it. The call had not been a plea for help, after all, it had been a plea for forgiveness.

Y/n covered his ears, as if that would block out what was already inscribed in his mind.

Erin had never just up and left without a word to anyone. Even if he hadn't gone far. He cared too much about his mother — his brothers — to put her through that. He simply wouldn't. No, something was wrong, even if it wasn't related to the serial killer going around, something was wrong.

He ran straight into someone eventually, someone who did not budge at the force of a (y/h) teenager running into them. They caught him, holding him still by his arms. Once it was clear he wasn't going to fall, the person let him go.

Y/n apologized, and was too focused on his surroundings to identify the person. Maybe if he had, he could've done something. He could've called the police about a strange woman with the mask of an alligator roaming the streets. Maybe he could've stopped her from reaching her destination.

The woman with the mask of an alligator, who beared the teeth of one, too. Those teeth that would tear his friend apart. Maybe he could've stopped that outcome if he just looked up.

But he didn't. The thought didn't cross his mind, and he side-stepped past the person and continued to run. He didn't know where he was running. He could hardly see anything beyond the glow from the streetlights. The occasional car sped past, stealing none of Y/n's attention.

The adrenaline coursing through his body was what kept him running; standing, even. He was tired. Undeniably so. But he would never forgive himself if he stopped looking.

Erin's out there. He is. He's okay. He isn't hurt. He just... went out. Maybe his phone died. Maybe he forgot to tell someone. He's okay. Everything's going to be okay.