In a flash Masky's weight left Jay, crouching in a second to snatch up the knife he had dropped earlier. Jay flipped himself over, stomach feeling the cool rush of the night, and stared at the figure in the doorway with wide eyes.
In the faint light Jay could see a faded orange sweatshirt pulled over a peculiar ski-mask. Crude red cutouts marked the figure's eyes and mouth. Then, as Jay looked closer, he could see something swinging ever so slightly in Hoody's hand - his camera.
"Hey -" started Jay, stepping towards the door with flustered movements. Masky pushed Jay back and marched up to the hooded man, waving the knife threateningly before his face. Hoody merely shrugged, and gave a suggestive nod towards Jay, who, realizing what he had almost let happen, blushed furiously.
"I-I...Just give me back my camera! That's the only reason I came here." Jay crossed his arms and dug his fingers into his sleeves.
Masky gave Hoody a shove and grabbed the camera out of his hands. He ejected a tape which had apparently been inside, and Jay leaned forward curiously. Masky slipped the tape into his jacket pocket and handed the camera to Jay, who accepted it with skepticism.
"Thanks." Jay mumbled. He became aware of the silence then. A suffocating blanket of quiet had slowly crept up on them, and now he could feel it. Hoody and Masky stood on opposite sides of the doorframe, eyes probably registering every movement Jay made. The void began to gnaw on Jay's insides, and a nervous laugh escaped his lips.
Masky hesitated a moment, turning his head to look at Hoody once more. He then motioned towards the inky forest outside, and Jay swallowed, stepping forth on the creaky wood floorboards. Just as he was about to step outside, he remembered something and stopped. Jay dug around in his pocket for the tape he had found in his car. Withdrawing it, he looked at Masky and held up the tape.
"You can have this back." Jay placed the tape in Masky's gloved palm, and the eyeless pits regarded it blankly. With one last glance at the two figures, Jay dashed off into the frigid night.
OOO
It was early morning by the time Jay had reached his room and, exhausted beyond belief, fell face first onto his bed. He took out his camera and turned it on, relaxing at the gentle clip open of the lenses. Jay rubbed at his camera momentarily - something seemed to be blurring the picture. The smudge didn't fade. Jay flipped his camera over, cursing when he saw a familiar symbol etched into his camera lens; a crudely crossed out circle.
Jay tossed his camera angrily against the wall, and buried his face into his pillows.
I just can't win.
Jay struggled against the growing hole in his heart, fists balled into his covers.
They get me every time...and I can't do a thing to stop them.
The void fluctuated angrily. Jay's brows knitted together as he forced himself to sit up. He glanced momentarily at the swelling wound on his shoulder - it was probably infected. He had probably needed stitches, but it was too late for that now. Jay relinquished his hold on his bed sheets.
Masky. He was the one who had given Jay this wound. That had been intentional...right? Jay's head spun as he remembered the events that took place inside the shack. Perhaps it had been an accident though - a slip of the blade - as Jay resisted. He passed a finger over the thin cut across his jaw and exhaled. What happened last night had most definitely not been an accident.
Jay supposed most of it was his fault. He let it happen. He was too weak to resist. Maybe a part of Jay actually wanted to be touched - but then again it could all just be the fault of the growing void.
Loneliness.
Jay picked up his phone and called Tim. He huddled into his sheets, listening to the dial tones ring one by one.
"Hey."
Jay shot straight up, not expecting the slightly gruff voice to answer. Jay gathered up his disrupted sheets and stuttered as he searched for words.
"Uh-uhm...h-hey!"
Jay cursed at himself for being so flustered. Yet it helped to hear another human voice - a familiar one at that.
"You okay?" Tim continued, sounding somewhat concerned. "I saw you tried to call me yesterday. I was...probably busy or something."
"N-no I'm fine -" Jay paused for a second, feeling the empty flutter of the cavity in his chest. "A-actually...do you think you could come over? I uh- I need to talk to you about something." Jay questioned his own words, immediately hating how helpless he sounded.
"If you need me to. Just send me directions, I guess."
With that Tim hung up and Jay sent the directions to the hotel.
Then suddenly, Jay realized that he never had any real intention of sharing what happened last night. In fact, to tell Tim the events that had almost passed between him and the masked man would be unbearable. Jay groaned and buried his face in his hands. What was he hoping for? Tim would be expecting a serious conversation - a new clue to fit into the twisted puzzle.
Jay spent the next half an hour pacing around his room, thinking of a story he could tell in place of the truth. He knotted his fingers into his hair, wondering if Tim would notice he was lying.
Then there was a knock at the door.
Jay felt a rush of heat course through his body and settle into a chill. He quickly fixed his bed covers and ordered his few possessions on the desk. Wobbling over to the door, Jay slowly turned the handle.
