Camp Cannibal: A Camp Camp Fanfic

Starvation of the Psyche

Max was running.

He was running harder than he ever had in his life.

Because if he didn't, he would soon be alive no longer.

Matt was chasing him like a fox chases a rabbit. The crazy fucker was abnormally quick for a kid his size. Max could feel his heart bursting from his chest, as if trying to escape. 

He needed to go faster.

Every breath was torture on his lungs. Every step sent fire shooting up his skinny legs. He was sweating bullets and every time he tried to push himself faster, he felt his body slow down.

As his breaths got shorter and his strength evaporated from his body, he saw something in the nearing distance.

A lone pine tree. 

Once his eyes fell on it, he felt a force pulling him towards it. As if the tree was calling his name. 

Pushing himself one more time, he finally came within touching distance of the tree. He reached for it.

He reached, and reached, and reached-

And he went plummeting.

Well, almost. The ground disappeared beneath him and Max felt a shot of adrenaline shoot through him. Impulsively, he grabbed for something to stop his decent and almost cried with relief when his small arms wrapped themselves around the oddly bent trunk.

That relief was short-lived.

Slowly, eerily, Matt waltzed into Max's view. He stood above him, so tantalizingly close to him, that Max could feel the bastard's fingers tracing his spine amd tearing his skin. Max's eyes widened with fear and his body trembled in panic.

What a way to go...

Calmly, Matt tiptoed his way onto the twisted trunk and stood above Max, looking down on him with a piercing stare.

A stare that said "You Are Below Me."

"Aww, isn't that cute?" taunted Matthew happily, crouching down to get closer.  "The little kitten can't climb a tree."

Matt's arm suddenly shot out and gripped Max violently by the hair. In a not at all gently manner, Matt lifted Max to eye level and held him over the endless abyss that lay below.

Max gripped and clawed desperately at Matt's arm, trying to take hold so he wouldn't fall. If Matt's hold even slightly loosened, Max would go falling. 

"Do you wanna know what happens when you don't stay out of my way?" sneered Matt viciously. Max was still helplessly kicking the air, searching for ground that wasn't there.

Matt chuckled at the pitiful sight. He continued speaking.

"If you don't step back, I'll cut you!" Matt hissed the word 'cut' venomously. 

"I will cut your little. Heart. OUT." 

With each word, Matt leaned farther into Max's face, getting disturbingly close.

There were hundreds of questions storming through Max's head, all of them screaming in fear to be answered.

'Why are you doing this? What do you want? Where did you come from? Why do you wanna kill me? Why were you eating that guy? 

'What the actual FUCK is wrong with you?!'

However, he never got the chance to ask. His throat closed entirely, choking him with his own neck. His small heart made a sudden stop as the grip on his hair loosened.

Looking pleadingly into Matt's eyes, Max silently begged for him to not let go, to let him live.

Max never begged. And Matt never spared.

"Say hi to the bears for me!" chuckled Matt in a sing-song tone. 

And with that, Max went plummeting.

And he plummeted, and plummeted, and plummeted...

------

Max shot up with a start. His body was trembling like a tree in a wind storm. He could barely look straight. His breathing was labored as if he'd run a marathon. Grasping painfully at his chest, he let stray tears fall pitifully down his face. He would never let someone see him like this.

"Ahem, excuse me, Maxwell," came a disgustingly sweet voice.

Immediately, Max acted on instinct and grabbed the nearest object. In his hands he held a random flashlight and brandished it like a knife. 

Matt merely chuckled at the sight.

Slowly raising his hand, he gently placed his index finger on the end of the flashlight and started pushing down on it, making Max lower it.

"Now now, Maxxie, let's not get violent," purred the psychopath. "We don't want someone getting hurt now, do we?"

Matt wrapped his hands around the flashlight and, like a mother prying a toy from their child's hold, pulled it gently out of Max's own. Setting it on a nearby nightstand, he calmly shuffled closer to Max, who was trying to curl into himself on the end of the counselor bed.

"Hey, hey," he ushered quietly. "Calm down, Maxwell. I'm not going to hurt you. I just need you to look at me, okay? Please?"

Max wanted to ignore him. He really did. But he really couldn't. Hesitantly, he uncurled himself and looked into Matthew's piercing stare.

"There we go," sung Matt sweetly. "That's what I like to see! Don't be afraid of me, Maxwell~"

In that instant, Matt reached into his pocket, grabbed something, and with the speed of a bullet, blew a strange powder into the poor boy's face.

Before Max could even comptehend what had happened, he felt his mind slipping. His eyes stung and his mouth tasted like some sweet and sour concoction. All awareness of his surroundings dissipated like mist on a sunny day in July. His pupils dilated to the point of filling his entire eye. His body relaxed and he could barely sit up straight.

He became a zombie.

Matthew giggled, pleased with himself.

"Dragon's Breath," muttered Matt happily. "Perfect! You can thank Norman for that, Maxxie! Now, follow me."

And like a dog, Max followed.