Ghost Whispers |-/ Joshler

con·ster·na·tion |-/

/ˌkänstərˈnāSH(ə)n/
noun
a sudden, alarming amazement or dread that results in utter confusion; feelings of anxiety or dismay, typically at something unexpected.

Endless running. Running from his demons, running from himself. Tyler's never standing still.

Through the thick brush, into the same clearing as before. The beast isn't behind him this time, rather in front of him.

It's moist, thick breath is swirling in his face and making him hold his own. A low chuckle rumbled from the creature.

A hand reached out, the blackened nail on the end of the pointer finger touching Tyler's chest. He didn't move--he didn't want to.

A tingle branched out in Tyler's torso, settling at the top of his head. It buzzed around like bees in his brain.

"So close to death," the monster finally spoke. "At the hand of the demons, no less."

Tyler couldn't speak. When he touched his mouth, he felt two hands over it, their grip slowly getting tighter and tighter on his skin.

He let out a muffled scream and flailed his arms around, trying to get whoever it was off of him.

"And there one is, doing his job and silencing your anguish. What a good little grunt."

A few more moments of Tyler struggling passed, and then the beast spoke again.

"No...not a demon. Not a demon at all."

Tyler was spun around, and cast in shadow was a figure wearing a bright red ski mask.

"But your friend."

One hand was raised, and it grabbed the bottom of the mask. Up went the mask, and a chin was revealed. A mouth next, then a nose. Tyler knew that nose well.

"Josh?" He whimpered, seeing the full face. "No...it's not you."

With a stern look on his face, Josh remained silent. He stared Tyler down, dropping the mask to the ground.

"He's come to kill you, Tyler. Your only friend."

Josh thrust his hand into Tyler's chest, exactly where the beast had touched. Blood flew from Tyler's mouth, spattering on Josh's still-deadpan face.

In Josh's hand was Tyler's left lung. His chest was comprised of cracked ribs and blood; an empty cage. His heart was gone.

When his eyes fell to Josh's other hand, he saw it there; clutched in his fingers and pulsing slowly.

Tyler's lung had suddenly burst aflame, crumbling to ash in Josh's hold. The boy collapsed, only able to look up at Josh, who still held his heart.

"This is mine," He growled, sinking his teeth into the flesh. Crimson dribbled out of the sides of his mouth and stained his lips. "All mine."

"Josh!" Tyler screamed, rolling out of bed and falling to the floor. He took the blanket down with him, tangling his whole body.

Josh was already awake, and had been attempting to soothe Tyler in his sleep as the nightmare raged in his mind.

He leapt out of bed and followed Tyler down to the floor, pulling the blanket from his twisted body.

"Josh!" Tyler repeated, hands reaching out for the ghost.

"I'm here, Tyler, it's alright. I'm here."

"Are they gone?"

"Is who gone, Tyler?"