When Violence Ensues: Slenderverse Short Stories.

Story Fourty Nine: Breathing, Drowning, Do you see the fire starting?

Burn it to the ground. Ashes to ashes, and maybe the creature would go with it. The hooded man flicked the lighter on and off in his hand- eyes following the little flame. Leaning back against the vandalised wall of Benedict Hall, the wary male clenched his jaw and closed the lighter, slipping it back into his pocket as faint footsteps echoed from the lower floor- alerting him and causing him to pull his mask over his face alongside his hood before quietly slipping to the staircase and observing over the banisters. It could be anything, or anyone, making that noise. A group of kids with spray paint, drug dealers, teenagers- possibly no one overly dangerous or otherworldly.

However, the hooded man knew his luck was awful, and it was much more likely that something sinister was hunting him.

What else was new?

Someone was shuffling along the halls on the lower floor, seemingly making their way around towards the stairwell. Sneaking around was second nature to the hooded man, however, so he was not concerned about being discovered. He was much more caught up on the fact that he was still unsure of who, or what, was getting progressively closer to him; that unnerved him greatly.

The hooded man despised the unknown, from personal experience, it tended to hold dangerous consequences.

Gloved hands clutching the worn-away, wooden banister, he crouched slightly- preparing as the risk of being spotted increased. Benedict Hall was derelict and not to mention, the mould and asbestos that would poison your lungs.

Yet the hooded man spent an unhealthy amount of time in this building- the building where he almost met his untimely and unjustly death. At the hands of a friend.

Hilarious how the person you would take the bullet for, is the one behind the trigger.

None of that mattered to him now, however, considering the person he was now was worlds apart from Brian- who he once was. Memories of that man plagued his mind sometimes, like the stuttering of a VHS tape. The memories meant nothing to him, but elements of wistfulness and homesickness always seemed to force its way into his soulless chest and hide behind his neutral eyes. He wished he knew what that was like, to be full of such human emotions and experiences. To have a friend, to belong.

The hooded man was simply a husk- a human vessel, but with no concepts of humanity and the wonders that followed it. He did, however, feel the dragging longing for something to fill the numbness that had resided in his head and the static that had possessed him for so long. An age-old weariness was set in his bones at this stage, metaphorically. Still as agile as ever- but that was because he had to be. It was not simply humans that had become his enemy- such as Alex, but an entity that fed on primal fear. An entity that could pop up wherever it wanted and terrorise his every waking moment.

There was good reason he rarely slept nowadays.

However, in this precise moment in time- the impending intruder on the hooded man's tormented silence was the main priority. It was deadly quiet for a few moments, before a dark haired male came into view by the staircase leading up to where the stealthy other was hiding. Jaw clenching as he crept back, he realised just who the intruder was.

Tim.

Now, what was he doing here of all places?

To be entirely honest, the hooded man was not pleased to see him. Partly due to the last time they met, the gloved male ended up being cornered and fell from a high ledge- crashing onto his back and becoming temporarily paralyzed in the process. Unconscious for what only felt like a few hours, but was actually a few days.