❝Why don't we go on a roadtrip?❞
» in which four boys take a wrong turn during a road trip and end up fighting for their lives.
» or in which what happens in the Sacrifice, stays in the Sacrifice.
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copyright ▶︎ grace flowers
art ▶︎ juan luna; spol...
"Do unto others as they do unto you." - Anton Szandor LaVey, The Satanic Bible
I feel incredibly salty. And angry. Time for a cathartic, emotion-fueled chapter.
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"They're here! They're here!"
"Run!" Paul screamed, pushing a frozen George and stumbled to his feet. His legs snapped back and forth, panic settling in his mouth and his diaphragm like thorns with the way it dug nails in his throat.
His bleeding hand continued to spurt - the little bitch split an artery, what the fuck - the crimson liquid running down his thigh in thin, steady streams.
Don't think about it don't think about it don't think-
"Fuck off!" Ringo kicked one of them backwards, yelling when his ankle was yanked. John's fist swerved sharp and Paul swore he saw two pieces of teeth shine in the light as they flew.
"The sheep shall be shorn!"
"Geo, come on!"
"Bet your God can't hear ya now!"
"Shit," The youngest choked out, face turning red and chest rapidly rising up and down. "Shit- Paul- I can't-"
Dead leaves crunched and snapped under thunderous footsteps, pitch black darkness enveloping all four. Paul gasped as his foot caught the roots that were sticking out all over the place, grasping in the dark for something to hold on. His throat suddenly constricted when he felt a hand grip his shirt, a scream about to burst through when George's face came into view.
"Fucking shit," Paul panted. "Don't do that again, prick." His words meant no negative context, letting the younger boy stay close to him as comfort could allow.
"M-Maybe if we s-stay quiet they'll lose interest?" George offered, voice but a tiny, shaking sound in the dark.
Ringo swallowed thickly. The lack of light wasn't helping his anxiety, but John's hands on his back eased him a bit. He carefully shifted on his feet, tasting iron on his tongue when he bit his lower lip too hard.
"It's dark enough," John flinched at the orange spilling through the woods. If they're gonna hide, they better hide right fucking now. "Paul, are you-"
"I'm okay, Johnny, don't worry." He cradled his hand to his chest, trying to even his breathing and forced his legs to go. "L-Let's go."
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"Let's go!" Paul yelled like an impatient child in the mall. He tapped his foot repeatedly on the last steps of the staircase, every so often checking his watch and watched as time droned on and on like a boring old priest preaching about the good news.
