There's a peculiar illness going around many countries, believed to originate somewhere in Germany. It's a virus that has been worrying many people all over the world.
Symptoms are as follows:
Vomiting.
Sleep Deprivation.
Intense Paranoia.
And extre...
With an annoyingly loud creak, the old wooden door swung open and hit the decayed blue walls of the house. James stepped into the dimly-lit home and looked around as silently as he could. He was in the living room. The carpet was dirty, easily noticeable even in the dark. The carpet was moldy, and even slightly wet with something, but James just couldn't figure out what it was wet from.
There was an old, faded-blue couch. Of course, being quite dusty with some visible scratch marks on it. Large ones, too, so James guessed that the feral monster from earlier was probably here, too. James made sure to look behind him again to see if the creature was there, but he couldn't see outside. It looked like it just got darker out, as a chilled breeze made its way through the wide-open door, causing James to shiver a bit.
He wanted to close the door, but he felt that it would cause too much noise and unwanted attention from anyone that may be nearby.
It seemed that there were many, many pages on the walls. Every wall completely covered in pieces of paper, now yellowish and rotted. Indicating that they had been there a long time. Now James began to feel a bit worried exploring this abandoned building. Paranoid that something could just jump out of the shadows at any point in time.
James tried to man-up, to be a bit less scared, but that was impossible. The pages on the wall, about 90% of them being strange drawings of things like crows, stick figures, knives, bugs. It just gave James a feeling of paranoia. Worry. Fear.
But no matter, James still had to look for his friend, and he decided that no drawings or scary creatures with antlers are going to stop him from his task. Just as he started walking forward, a man stepped into frame, just a silhouette in the darkness, barely visible in the gloomy of the night.
As if his day couldn't get worse, he noticed that the ominous person held a machete in his right hand, holding it up just a bit so James can see it, all whilst pointing at him with his other hand, implying that he's going to kill him, as in a flicker of movement in the shadows, he lunged at James and swung the sword at him, James ducking away just on time, and the figure's sword just slicing into the wall and creating a giant gash in the wallpaper.
James quickly ran up to the man and swung his fist in his direction, socking him in the head and causing him to stumble back and hit the wall. James took the perfect opportunity and ran right at the man, hitting him in the face another couple times, the man letting out small grunts with each blow. The guy frantically grabbed onto James' shirt and with ease lifted the shirt up and over his head, obscuring James' vision and causing James to stumble back and fall onto the couch.
James desperately took the shirt from over his head and was able to look up just on time to see the man jump onto the couch with him. The man got on James and punched him a couple of times with one hand and held him down with the other. He seemed to have lost his Machete, so that's good, at least. James kept attempting to block the punches, and eventually, he managed to move his legs just enough and kick the guy directly in his genitals, causing him to let out a quiet gasp and let go of James.
James sat up and threw the man off him and quickly got off the couch. Now James was on top of the man, on the grimy floor, striking his face over, and over again, realizing that he was actually wearing a mask this whole time. Pure white color with two giant black eyeholes. James wasted no time in grabbing the mask and ripping it off the man's face.
It was just barely light enough to actually see what he looked like. He looked to be in his late 30s with dark-green eyes and bushy eyebrows. A noticeable beard and a slight cut on the right side of his forehead, nothing really severe or anything. Anyway, James just continued punching the man, striking over and over, and over again until... the man finally stopped moving...
"Finally," James whispered to himself as he slowly got up off the now-dead man, spitting on his body and looking at him a bit longer to make sure he wasn't going anywhere, and nope, he's definitely dead. "I really fucked him up," James spoke to no one in particular, as he looked back toward the front door and saw the machete the mysterious man once held, just sitting underneath the window.
James smiled and picked the machete up, examining it and noticing the obvious blood stains on it. "This'll help a lot." He spoke aloud as he turned back around and peered down the hallway the man had just come from a minute ago. There were still a lot of yellowish pages on the wall, of course. But there was a door right down the hallway, wooden and a greyish color. He just had a very good feeling this is where Matthew is kept.
He approached the door, not even hesitating and straight-up swinging the door open.
Before him were a set of old wooden stairs, complete darkness in the small stairwell. This clearly leads to the basement. An obvious place to keep someone you just kidnapped.
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"Of course the stairs are creepy." James murmured, stepping down the obnoxiously loud stairs and into the basement.
...
Meanwhile, back in the living room, the barely-alive man who just attacked James just a second ago laid there, listening, and confirming that James was now in the basement. It would only be a matter of time before Daniel and that other guy kill him. The man chuckled to himself as he slowly got up from the ground and stood to look at the gloomy hallway with a smile...
