Southern Gothic // Joshler

12. Bedroom

Gore

Tyler ran to Josh's house for what felt like the millionth time. His legs were as heavy as lead as he ran, his heart sunk deep into his chest. His entire family was gone. His siblings, his parents, everything he knew and loved was destroyed by whatever the fuck had killed his father in the forest. He needed to get to the bottom of whatever was going on. 

He wouldn't leave town until he did.

The thought of being near Josh revolted Tyler. The thought of loving him, of spending time with him, just thinking of the boy made him want to be sick. The church would have more than a fit if he went back to him. Maybe that's exactly why he was doing it. 

Tyler knew in his heart there was no God anymore. The hallucinations were from sensory deprivation, not from whatever the Preacher had been trying to convince Tyler of for the bettering of himself. He was fine the way he was. He wasn't going to let anything destroy him, and if something did, he was dragging it down to Hell with him. 

It was raining again as he ran, nothing more than a light drizzle. Storm clouds swirled ominously overhead, and Tyler couldn't help but wonder if he was the cause of them. Everything about the town was different. He hadn't been to school in Lord knows how long, and he doubted anyone even missed him there. Everyone he knew, everyone he cared about, was gone.

Except for Josh. Josh was still alive, still breathing, still very much real and okay. He had to make it to him before whatever was trying to kill Tyler killed Josh, too. 

As he rounded the corner to Josh's street, Tyler's feet began to slow down as he approached the house. The door was wide open.

"Josh!" Tyler shouted as he gripped the shotgun tighter, cautiously walking up to the door. He had the same sickening feeling now as he did when he walked into his house. 

"Josh, it's Tyler," Tyler spoke again, taking a step through the door and looking around. The living room was empty. There was no gun over the mantle. He turned to his right to head up the stairs, making sure he was silent as he moved. The last thing he wanted was to get shot.

Tyler looked to his right when he reached the top, looking into Josh's room at the end of the hall. The door was leaned shut and he couldn't tell if anyone was inside. He shook his head and turned around, heading left down the hallway. All the door were closed, except for the one at the very end of the hall.

"Josh," Tyler said again, anxiously as he moved. His hands were trembling against the cold metal of the shotgun in his hands. Every step he took felt like moving in slow motion, his legs filled with lead as they dragged across the floor. "Josh, it's me," 

"Don't come in here." Josh's voice was trembling, and it took Tyler by surprise as he approached the door. "Please, don't come in here," 

Tyler's heart sank as he heard quiet cries coming from inside the room. Something was very, very wrong. 

"We have to get out of here." Tyler murmured softly as he finally reached the doorway after what felt like ages. He took a deep breath and poked his head into the room, looking around what appeared to be the master bedroom. Josh was crumpled up against the end of the bed in the center of the room, his knees pulled up to his chest. His arms were wrapped around himself and he was shaking so hard Tyler was surprised he hadn't passed out. There was blood coating the walls and the gun was sitting at Josh's feet. 

"Th-They-" Josh started, looking up at Tyler with wide eyes, "Your- your dad was here," 

"No," Tyler said quietly, rushing over to Josh and dropping his gun, pulling the boy into a tight hug. "No, Josh, I'm so sorry-"