@rolandeep7 @kian-stonezzz
Rand’s vision fades to black as he loses consciousness, sleep overtaking him quickly.
He feels himself awaken rather quickly afterwards, though, and suddenly, he’s in the woods, hands shaking and flashlight shining straight ahead, into the scattered trees. He looks down to see he’s wearing a muddied pair of jeans and beat-up sneakers, and his dad’s leather jacket over a Guns n’ Roses tee.
He remembers this exact moment all too well.
Rand doesn’t want to move forward; he actually tries to will himself against it, but he can’t help but step further into the darkened bayou, mud squelching beneath his feet.
He needed to find Rachel.
As the boy continues into the swamp, wading through ankle-high water, he glances around frantically, as if something was out here with him. It was a school night, and he was already out way too late, so he didn’t want to be caught. He freezes as the beam catches a figure, but it’s… Rolan?
Oh. Right.
Rolan scrunches his face as the flashlight blinds him, and he puts his hands to his face, trying to shield his eyes.
“Dude!” he whisper-shouts, Rand taking it as a sign to lower his flashlight again.
“Sorry,” he replies, voice lighter than normal, “I, uh- just forgot. Got- startled.”
“How far are we going?” Rolan asks, probably choosing to not respond to Rand’s comments. He sounded tired. Rand feels a twisting in his chest.
“Um… I don’t- know. I was gonna go until I reached the edge, but, um…” he’s unsure of what he’s saying. He doesn’t feel like this is anything more than some weird scene his brain is imagining, but he knows it’s a memory. It feels too authentic to not be one.
“My mom’s gonna notice that I’m not home eventually, and I’m sure yours is too. It’s already, what, 10? 10:30? It’s getting late, Tim, we should-” Rand holds his hand up, and Rolan stops talking.
Click click click click click…
Rand’s eyes widen in horror as clicks erupt through the woods, and he goes to run, but he doesn’t seem to have any control over his body. He continues towards the sound, Rolan following close behind. Neither of them say anything as they approach the biggest tree in the middle of the woods; the one they used as a hangout spot frequently. Kian couldn’t sit still for the life of him, so he would always climb as they talked, and Rolan, for some reason, said he found some sort of comfort in the tree.
Rand fumbles for his pocket, putting his thick-rimmed glasses on in order to see just what his light was illuminating that was on this tree.
It was his sister.
No, it wasn’t. It was a red, pulsing mass, made up of what looked to be the insides of a human body: blood, guts, viscera. In front of it was his sister. She was actually there.
He turns back to look at Rolan, but he’s gone. He frantically whips his flashlight around, trying his best to find the other, but he couldn’t. He thinks, in passing, this is what he always does. He wished he had stayed with him, for once.
Turning back around, Rand is face to face with Rachel, whose eyes are pure black and throat is a translucent, pulsing red. Something akin to a stinger emerges from her mouth, as her body contorts in order to contain the awful, bug-like features.
She tilts her head back, and begins to click.
Rand’s lip is trembling, and he grabs onto her arms, interrupting the inhuman sounds erupting from her.
“Rachel- we gotta go, Mama’s been so worried about you,” he tries to reason, his drawl becoming thicker in his panic, “come on- please, we gotta get home, it’s really late.” Rachel stares at him, mouth still hanging agape, almost unhinged.
Rand goes to say more, but Rachel blinks, and her eyes shift back to brown, white scleras reappearing. It looks as if she shrinks in on herself, before she collapses, face-first into the mud. He gasps and drops to his knees immediately, flashlight falling next to them.
“Rachel, come on- I-I know you’re tired, sissy, but I can’t carry you. We gotta- we gotta go.” His voice is almost hysterical, shaking Rachel harshly and trying to pull her upwards. She barely budges.
His hands shake as he gently presses two fingers to her throat, feeling for a pulse. He can’t feel anything anywhere, no matter where he checks, or how long he holds for. He can feel his own body now; he hears everything so clearly, his vision is blurring with tears, and he feels a scream tear from his throat.
---
Rand jolts upright, not realizing he was screaming until he hears rustling on the other side of him. He takes a minute to breathe, hands gripping his hair to try and ground himself, and for some reason, that works. His tears slow as his breathing steadies. He knows it isn’t real, and he knows that didn’t happen to her, and everything is fine…
…but he can’t get the image out of his head. He feels sick.