she never should have gone to the rv. from the moment she'd picked up the phone, from the moment the voice had claimed to be thomas, she'd known that it could mean nothing good. it was only the threat to her children that had convinced her to go, too frightened to try to fight back against this place when their lives were on the line. god, how she regrets it now.
your husband died right where you're standing.
as the man disappears into the tree and his humming finally dissipates, tabitha slides down the side of the rv, knees weak and hands shaking. she remains there for much longer than she probably should, too weak to pull herself to her feet. but her head turns to the blood stain on the rv's exterior, her stomach churning as the pieces of the puzzle put themselves together.
i'll see you soon.
not a threat, so much as a promise. it means the man will be returning to enjoy his games. spurred on by the need to warn the others, tabitha pulls herself to her feet again, using the rv to support herself until she's certain her knees aren't going to buckle. within a few more moments, she's setting off at a run away from the rv, back to town.
tabitha feels like she can't breathe, and it has nothing to do with the physical exertion of sprinting. she doesn't slow until she reaches the outskirts of town, and even then, it's only for a moment as she tries to decide where to go first. but before her brain even seems to provide a definitive answer, her feet are guiding her to the bar.
" jade! " she bursts through the door, hoping to find him there (and she's in luck, it would seem). she wastes no time in crossing the space between them, her hands gripping his forearms desperately. " he was in the house, " she rasps, her breathing strained. " the man in the yellow suit. he — that thing was in the house. "
@soulsburned
