One Last Time

18

Eddie

 Eddie groaned, rubbing his eyes and blinking until his vision was restored. He groped his hand in the dark room, anticipating Buck's presence. The cold, slippery sheets met the palm of his hands. He sat up, the bed creaking, turning his body to face Buck's half of the bed. 

He was gone.

The room felt strangely cold, then again, all their candles were burnt out. Chimney was wrapped tightly in his blankets, making a cocoon. Eddie's dry throat tingled, his hands beginning to shake with fear.

He's probably in the bathroom. There's no chance he left the room on a night like tonight.

Quietly, Eddie hopped out of the bed and approached the bathroom door. Memories of the previous nights floated through his mind. He drummed his knuckles against the door, hearing nothing but an echo. Unsatisfied, Eddie lit a candle next to him, gripping the stand in his hand. He jiggled the doorknob. The door swung open, ajar.

"Buck?" His voice was hoarse. The candle provided little light as he carefully tip-toed his way in.

Abruptly, Eddie jumped! He stared into the bathroom mirror, his reflection mirroring him. Looking into his own eyes, panic surged through his veins. Red ink was smeared along the mirror. It looked like someone had written on it using their finger in a strange... substance.

Blood.

Shaking his head to ensure he wasn't dreaming, Eddie touched the mirror with his own finger. His mind raced as he read the words written in the fresh, red, blood.

One.

Last.

Time.

Before he could let out the loudest, blood-curdling scream, his eyes scanned some small black printing in the corner of the mirror. It smelt of Sharpie.

"P.S. Come alone. Don't tell. Just come. Before it's too late."

It was written in big capital letters, similar to the one Chimney had shown them on the note left in Malik's door frame. He couldn't be thinking about who did this. Someone had Buck! And something told him that if he were to wake any of the others, the killer would know. How? Eddie wasn't sure, but he wasn't being paranoid. He was being threatened.

He took a deep breath, the blood-written words gawking back at him.

It's the last victim. The last victim is Buck.

Eddie exited the bathroom, his legs feeling weak. His stomach was full of butterflies, however not the excited type. He passed Chimney, praying he'd awaken on his own. Instead, he watched him grab another pillow, deeply in his sleep.

He made his way to the couch where Bobby was. His eyelids were glued shut and his chest rose with steady breaths. For a moment, Eddie thought about subtly making a noise, a stumble, anything to awaken him. Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that somewhere, in the room, someone or something was watching him.

He left Bobby, sleeping peacefully on the couch. He'd have to do this alone, just like the message requested. He needed to pick up the pace. In seconds Buck could be dead if he wasn't already.

Focus, Eddie.

Opening the door, he checked over his shoulder, accepting his independent quest. The candle was cradled in his hand. He shut the door behind him, the darkness looming mysteriously throughout the hallway.

Where am I going? Where did this killer take Buck?

Eddie stalked the hallway, moving his candle all over the place. The walls appeared the same, with no signs of struggle, dents, or blood. His heart was thumping so loudly that he feared it would be louder than his footsteps. He attempted to control his breathing, keeping it quiet, yet it was still shaky.