𝕼𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝕳𝖊𝖑𝖑 ⛦𝕮𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖊𝖞⛦

How Unfortunate for Martin

Chapter 1: How Unfortunate for Martin

Rushing up the stairs, Margo's breath came in quick pants as she ran from what was once her best friend. She and Brad had become separated, the boy running when Margo got grabbed in the kitchen. She had the sneaking suspicion that the kick she sent to the thing's face hadn't phased it as much as it let on. 

Maniacal laughter echoed through the house, the once sweet trill of Julia's giggles long gone. "You can run, but I will find you." 

Margo knew she would. Hell, she'd already gotten to them multiple times, but it was like it was tormenting them. Playing with its food. Every time it got close, it would mess with them a bit before letting them run throughout the house. 

Finding an open door at the end of the hall, Margo quickly ran in and slammed the door shut. Twisting the rusty lock, she stepped backward as she panicked. 

Thoughts raced through her mind as if she had the ability to process them all at once. She did not, in fact, have that ability, causing her hands to bunch in her hair and pull. Practically hyperventilating, Margo's eyes flitted back and forth as she tried to think of a plan. All she knew was that she needed to find Brad, she needed a weapon, and she needed to fix Julia. 

And she had no idea how to do any of those things. I mean, she didn't even know what had happened to the girl, so how was she supposed to find a proper weapon or fix her? 

One of her hands dropped from her head, spinning around in a circle. She might not know what would affect the thing, but she wasn't just going to let herself be defenseless. But instead of finding a weapon, she found a body. 

Breath hitching, she jumped back slightly, her lowered hand raising to press to her lips. "Oh, please don't be dead, please don't be dead, please don't be dead." 

Creeping forward, she checked his pulse, sighing in relief when she found one. Immediately dropping to the floor, she started shaking the middle-aged man. "Hey, you've gotta wake up. Come on, man." 

When shaking didn't work, Margo huffed, turning to the open door as she listened for noises. Hearing nothing, she turned fearfully back to the man, mumbling a small 'sorry' before harshly slapping him in the face. 

Leaning back was necessary as he shot up, almost headbutting her. The man awoke in a state of hysteria, scouring the room as his breathing picked up before his gaze settled on Margo. His eyes widened and he started shuffling backward; scraping noises coming from his cargo shorts on the wood floor. "Get away from me!" 

"Hey, calm down, calm down. What are you doing here?" Margo rushed out, raising her hands to show she wasn't a threat. The man seemed to simmer down slightly, halting his venture to get away from her. 

Pausing, the man looked her up and down as she stared at him with big, scared eyes. Underneath was a bravery he wished he still possessed. But his bravery left the door when he himself was possessed by someone else; the two not able to coincide at the same time. "I-I- That thing, the demon, it-it's had me for months. The things it's made me do..." He trailed off, looking down at his hands as he thought over all the horrible deeds the demon had done. The deeds he made him experience. 

While the man was lost in his thoughts, Margo's stuck on a single word he'd uttered; demon. 

Margo had always believed in the unexplainable, her childhood filled with tales of werewolves and witches and goblins. She'd seen ghosts and struggled with her religious views and who God was. But, never in her existence would she think that her best friend would be possessed by a demon. 

"I-" She started, cutting herself off when she realized she had no idea what to say. "W-what's your name? I'm Margo." 

"Martin." The man said once he pulled himself from his own mind. He'd calmed down considerably but seemed only a moment away from going into shock.