Death Screwed Up

Netflix and Chill

It had been one week, and to be quite honest, this place was quickly becoming one of the most boring experiences of my life. I guess that was partially my fault, but still there had to be at least one interesting thing to do around here other than wallowing. It turns out that until your heart stops beating, you have to stay in this super shady building called The Holding. It's like a really bad motel on the backroads which I would never bring a black-light to for fear of seeing something unspeakable.

The whole system was alright for about a day or maybe even two if you pushed it, but in my case, my heart still hadn't stopped beating. Every day, I would see people flowing in and out of the stupid building and would proceed to curse Hoodie for picking me up too early.

There was no sense of time here, but I had been up for a couple of hours and when a feral-looking wolf appeared out of nowhere in the corner of my room. I let out a shriek and pushed myself against the door out of my room. The wolf had teeth bigger than each of my hands and it took up most of the room. I was completely ready for it to rip me to shreds because, realistically, there was nothing I could do to defend myself. It stalked towards me with slow and terrifyingly steady steps until its snout was up against the side of my face. The horrid stench of rotting meat covered the air around him, and I forced myself not to gag, squeezing my eyes shut and bracing for the pain.

I waited. Waited for him to bite me, to kill me. But it never came. Instead, he let out a feral snarl and lunged at the door behind me. If it wasn't for the fact that I was utterly terrified, I would have screamed. I stood there, petrified, as the wolf looked me in the eye and left. A cloud of smoke was all that was left of him, and I felt my hands shaking.

The smoke was slowly dissipating, and I turned around to take a look at the door...and felt all the blood drain from my face. Most of the door was gone. A line of teeth gashes showed where his jaw hadn't been able to reach. There were barely any splinters left to indicate that there was once a door there. I took one deep breath and closed my eyes, letting all of my adrenaline flow through me so I could scream. "JAKE GET YOUR BONY BUTT HERE RIGHT NOW!! I SWEAR TO GOD Y-"

"Again, I am not bony," he interrupted. I whipped around to find him lounging on my decaying bed with his arms behind his cloaked head. His scythe lay next to him on the ratty bedspread. For once, I ignored his dramatic antics and jumped right into my rant.

"You screwed up. Officially screwed up. If I report this to your big bad boss, will you get fired? Oh boy. Oh boy. Then I'll be able to get my eternal revenge on you for RIPPING ME FROM MY FREAKING LIFE AND ALMOST LETTING A WOLF EAT ME!" By the end of my rant, I was quaking. I could feel my whole face turn red as I just stared at his stupid hood, just waiting for him to do anything.

He popped in front of me, utterly still. "What wolf?"

I glared at him, "Oh I'm so sorry that I didn't CHECK THE NAME TAG ON THE THING TRYING TO KILL ME!"

The scythe popped into his left hand. "Where did it come from!?"

"Jesus," I raised my hands in mock surrender. "I don't know, Hoodie. It popped up in the corner, tried to freaking eat me, broke my freaking door, and then I freaking called you!"

Jake nodded his head and his face grew grim. With a flourish that left me disappointed by the lack of cookies, he held up a black cloak almost identical to the one he had on. It had the same billowing sleeves and hood as his, but it was a little shorter in length. Stretching his arm out, he held the mass of black fabric out to me while I just stared.

This was weird as heck, and it didn't help that he wasn't explaining anything to me. "What's this?"

He let out an irritated huff. "I am trying to help get some answers. Now put on the cloak so we can get going."