ice cold hands taking hold of me

Christopher Fleiss None of it was wasted.

[thechristopherfleiss]

josheffect:

No amount of movies could’ve prepared him for the reality of what came next. It was if everything had been scripted, as if he had been over the storyboards a thousand times and now he was the star of the show. Nurses took one look at a boy that barely clung on to humanity, something that med school never even thought to teach them about, and the following moments turned into a series of b l u r r e d actions as he was forced away from Chris’ arms with visible protest. Josh knew now that none of this was a delusion anymore and that, yes, he was a wreck of a man, but nothing could stop him from WAILING like an abandoned child as he was separated from the only person he could ever truly feel safe around. 

One Josh was gone and his gut-wrenching cries had moved from earshot, a nearby doctor turned to Chris and eyed up the blonde’s body, checking him over to see if he was in anywhere near of a state than the shorter male. “ Are you hurt, sir?”  He was questioned as a stunned  s i l e n c e fell over the foyer following the events, only noise distant muttering regarding Josh’s face and what in God’s name could’ve happened to reduce him to such a frail, disturbing image. This was where Chris was told to stay by the professionals, among gossiping groups of patients waiting in the emergency room with the words ‘MONSTER’ and ‘TERRIFYING‘ as throwaway comments to describe the mentally and physically shattered individual that moments ago could barely even stand unassisted. 

“ Chris for Joshua Washington? ”  The words rang out after hours had passed, when the sun was just beginning to rise, bouncing off the walls of the waiting room to reach Chris’ ears. He was beckoned forward, addressed by an unfamiliar man with a blinding white coat and lanyard around his neck. “ He’s awake,”  Was all that was spoken at first, even the professionals without words after seeing the walking miracle, the boy that should’ve surely been DEAD,“ But he’s very tired. It took a lot for him not to feel any pain, so Joshua probably isn’t fully coherent, but you’re all he’s been talking about.”  The door to Josh’s separate room was then gestured to, inviting Chris to go and join the boy that needed nothing more than the company of his best friend. 

Hanging in the limbo of consciousness and sleep, uncomfortably laid between papery sheets, he gazed toward the stark wall with pupils flitting as if following an invisible movie. There was a sort of morbid comfort, a safety within the clinical environment that reminded him of home despite the fact this was far from it. Beneath it all he was warm and so very safe, basic rights that the hellish tunnels had so very violently ripped from his grasp. Gauze shielded half of his face to cover the MASSACRE that crooked, long fangs had left on the battlefield of his cheek. Thank God he was a living, breathing morphine bag, so the intrusive ache of stitches was beyond the point of numbness, pain so far away it was as if he had left it on the thawing summit of Blackwood. 

“ I’m like.. Phantom Of The Opera,” Josh was ever the joker and even this wouldn’t put a stop to humor at his own expense. No laugh followed, though, as if the pain medications had soaked up every last emotion, leaving a blank expression that was so heartbreaking. It wasn’t Josh, or at least not the Josh people were used to. Not outspoken, confident, always at hand to offer a string of dick-jokes; merely a shell, a diluted version of what he once was worn away by what could only be described as a NIGHTMARE. “ Hey, Chris… Got a secret.”  The voice was only just above a whisper, slurred as if drunk, eye struggling to stay open as his hand raised to clutch at the pale one he knew so well. 

          “I love you.. But shh– Don’t tell Chris.”

       Spindly fingers clutched the remnants of Josh’ shirt with a f e r o c i t y Chris didn’t even know he had in him. Nails dug into his best friend’s arm as the blonde tried desperately to keep the swarm of doctors from separating them. He knew it was futile, and stupid at that. Without these people —  whom he was now shoving away with his free arm Josh’ sinewy frame pressed into the curve of his body —  the other boy would die. He knew, he knew, and after they’d finally managed to pry Josh from his arms, it was the one thought that forced Chris DOWN into the uncomfortable plastic hospital seats. There the blonde stayed, FROZEN, eyes fixed on his hands. There was dirt on them, and blood, too, tiny splotches  a d o r n i n g  fingers as a reminder of everything that had happened.

                       Please, let him be okay. Please, please, please.        A prayer, half-sent skyward, as fear bloomed inside his rib cage and tears glazed over blue eyes. & he heard them. Of course he heard them. Monster. Maniac. PSYCHO. Labels for a boy they didn’t know and would soon forget, easily — carelessly — uttered with nothing more than a raised brow and a sideways glance. Chris could feel the vein in his neck pulse. How dared they ? How dared they talk about his best friend like that ?

       It took every last shred of self-control he had in him not to jump out of his seat and let a FLASH-FLOOD of rage wash over the other people in the waiting room. To be honest, the amount of anger inside his chest scared Chris more than he’d expected. But if he freaked out now, they would throw him out of the hospital & then Josh would be all  a l o n e , wondering why Chris had abandoned him. And thus, Chris’ filthy fingernails dug into his palms until they drew blood. He could feel the warm liquid form a small pool in his hand.

                       IT HURT.

       It hurt, but it made him press himself more and more against the plastic seat until his spine felt bruised.  And that’s how he remained, as minutes stretched into hours stretched into CENTURIES. Sometimes Chris felt himself nod off, but he forced himself to stay awake. Dark circles carved deeper and deeper caverns under his eyes, until:

                       ❝  Chris for Joshua Washington ? ❞

       The words had the same effect as a bucket of ice water dumped on his head. Chris jumped up. He half-sprinted half-stumbled over to the doctor, joints just now clicking into place after a night spent folded up in the hospital chair. The man’s words washed over him like a warm breeze. Josh was alive. Chris felt an involuntary grin  s p r e a d  over his lips, rubbing bloodshot eyes in an attempt to drive out fatigue. He was alive and he was safe and he was talking about HIM.

       The blonde followed the doctor through a maze of white, sterile hallways that smelled faintly of chemicals. Finally, a door opened & Chris was ushered in. The doctor closed the door behind him a little too quickly, undoubtedly exhausted and eager to go home to his family. Chris couldn’t blame him. Instead, he focused his eyes on the large hospital bed in the middle of the room.

       Josh looked .   .   . VULNERABLE, to say at least. A pile of limbs amidst papery sheets and beeping equipment. His face was blank, the kind of blank that broke Chris’ heart more than any look of anguish Josh could have thrown his way. At least he wasn’t feeling any pain, Chris reminded himself. Then again, he doubted Josh was feeling anything at all.

       He made his way over to the bed and crouched down next to it, bringing himself eye-to-eye with his best friend. The hand that clutched his was cold, and Josh’ voice was barely anything more than a hoarse whisper.

                       I LOVE YOU.

       Three words, eight letters, holding more WEIGHT than he could possibly assign a number to. And yet, they were flat. A morphine-induced hallucination that a good night’s sleep and a dose of common sense would soon  w a s h  away— Chris was sure of it. After all, there was no way Josh was being serious. Not Josh, who was flooded by girls’ attention everywhere he went. Not Josh, who threw crooked smiles and honey-soaked words at any girl that would listen. Of course, Chris had fantasized about the moment he would hear those words spill from Josh’ lips, but it had always been just that- a FANTASY. A stupid, childish thought Chris would press to the back of his mind whenever it dared to RISE UP. And now .   .   . this ought to be some kind of cruel practical joke.

                       ❝ Shh, you gotta sleep, bro. ❞

       He forced the words over his lips, placing a trembling hand on Josh’ forehead like his mom always did when he was eight years old and afraid of the THUNDER. The boy was obviously not in the right state of mind, and no matter how much it pained Chris to admit it:

                       His words meant nothing.

[thechristopherfleiss]

josheffect:

Josh didn’t believe in a GOD. If the man up above was all loving, why would he have taken his sisters, taken every strip of sanity and left him in the dark? But it did make him wonder. The tear in his cheek was payback, some sick karma, the bad he had done to none other than his friends as a boomerang to stab him in the back. What better price to pay than to physically rip away his humanity with the deep wounds in his flesh, to turn a boy so filled with ANGUISH and REVENGE into the literal monster eating him up inside. If he did exist, the big man sure had a twisted  sense of humor.

Every step was a reminder of his fate. Damn it, he was better off d e a d, and he cursed himself for not taking the life from his bones back when he had the chance. Toes curled against frozen ground as he followed Chris with the jacket wrapped around as a blanket, he made shuffling attempts to try and diminish the AGONY that made his ankles lock with every movement. “Chris, ” Soft voice cracked, so tiny and feeble as he struggled to keep the pace to meet his, “ I’m–It’s s–so cold. Aren’t you cold? ” Sure, Josh was practically naked, his own     I N S A N I T Y  causing him to shred the fabric from his body in desperation to feel something, but the below temperatures were definitely a contributor to the chattering teeth against elongated canines.

Clumsily, tripping over his own size nines, his hands snaked around the taller man’s biceps to hold him back.  It didn’t take a genius to realize that what he had done had left immeasurable impact on his best friend, but it was hardly the time to kiss and make up. Josh was barely even AWAKE anymore, a mission to plant one foot in front of the other, to stay upright and walking without any indicator a finish line. A change in terrain tripped him up slightly when snow-covered path gave way to gritted tarmac and he squinted milky eyes to make out shapes in the darkness - trees, an endless expanse of them, and very faint glowing headlights.

“CHRIS.” He knew the other wasn’t blind ( at least, not with his glasses ), but the spirit inside had granted him with enhanced eyesight as if he were born in the wild. A SURGE of energy hit Josh like an oncoming train and frail arms shot into the air to wave at the vehicle as it slowed before them, before exertion took over and he stumbled back into Chris’ hold. “  E–Excuse me..  ”  The poor woman behind the wheel at first looked terrified, and then concern plastered her face as she wound down her passenger window to lean out and glance over Josh, then at the other boy behind him, “ I’m sorry.. I’m– ”. Barely able to speak, widened eyes flitted back at Chris before he cleared his throat with a genuine whimper. Terror-stricken, every word he had taught himself to hold back came tumbling into the air;

        “Please. I want to go home.” 

“ I want– I want my face fixed, I want to see my mom. Please. Can you take us to a hospital, or at least to civilization.. I– I can’t..” Every word ACHED his chest, and he praised whoever overlooked the Earth when the woman agreed, Josh bundling himself into the back of the car with Chris following him. The seat belts were redundant as he found himself with his head in his best friend’s lap in the state just above sleep, skin that matched the F R O Z E N floor regaining at least the tiniest bit of pink, light of the interior bringing attention to every scrape, bruise and imperfection. Eyes of mottled jade began to flutter closed as soon as he was lulled into the idea of comfort, into either an automatic deep state of slumber, or a pained unconsciousness. 

        F a t i g u e had taken hold of a sinewy body, encasing it in a blanket of ICE. Every breath that seeped over Chris’ lips — bloody where they had cracked — immediately dissolved into pale puffs of air, his joints all but frozen as he plodded forward through the snow.

        We’re not going to make it. Chris heard those words in the back of his head like a ringing in his ears, or some second-rate CD player unable to read past the scratches on a CD, skipping over and over. We’re not going to make it. We’re not going to make it. We’re not—  Just as Chris was certain that there would come no end to the snowy path that they’d been following for what felt like HOURS, that he’d failed to keep Josh safe, the dirt road morphed into glittering asphalt.         ( Perhaps it was simply the fatigue that was planting all of these TOXIC THOUGHTS inside his brain, or .   .   . Or maybe it was the fear of losing Josh again, so soon after finding him. Whatever the reason, it was squeezing his throat shut, the small, cold hands of fear cutting off his breath with every step he took. )

        At the mention of his name, Chris ripped his gaze away from the road and turned to Josh. The blonde could barely tell what the other was waving at until the car was almost next to them — his eyesight had never been his best feature, after all — &. the realization of what his best friend was trying to do didn’t hit him until Josh’ lips parted and words came  p o u r i n g  out. For a moment, Chris could only stare, heart BREAKING one syllable at a time.

        ❝ Josh. ❞ A warning, voice razor-sharp as digits reached out to grab Josh’ arm, pulling him back. ❝ She could be the next Ted fuckin’ Bundy for all we know. ❞ The last sentence was but a whisper, yet his tone was harsh, d i s b e l i e f  woven through his words. Was Josh really going to blindly trust a total stranger ? Blue eyes shifted from Josh’ face to the woman, who was staring at the two of them as if she’d seen a ghost. How awful the two must look, covered in blood & grime, half-frozen in the middle of nowhere. And yet, she hadn’t driven off, like Chris would’ve, had he been in her shoes.

        Before he could protest any longer, Josh was already climbing inside the woman’s SUV. A pause, in which Chris sighed deeply and muttered curses under his breath. They were never going to make it back to CIVILIZATION on their own— even Chris could see that —, but blue optics remained fixed on the woman as he climbed inside the car and plumped down on the leather seat. In hindsight, the blonde would conclude that he had not been fair to the driver—  after all, the woman had  s a v e d  their lives. ( If she hadn’t picked the two up, they probably would have frozen to death in the snow. ) But at that moment in time, that didn’t even occur to the boy, instead muscles remained tense, his hands draped over a sleeping Josh as if to  p r o t e c t  him from the WORLD. It wasn’t until the SUV pulled up next to a hospital that Chris forced a ❝ T-thank you, ❞ across his lips. The woman, in return, gave him a small, sad smile before driving off as soon as the two boys had left the vehicle.

        Chris’ eyes shifted, from the dark road where the car had been a moment ago, to the hospital. It was a huge building, with what seemed like a  t h o u s a n d  windows. Most of them were dark — Chris figured the occupants were sleeping — but behind some, bright LIGHTS burned, an imitation of the city lights that spread out beyond the building.

        ❝ C’mon, we’re almost done, ❞ came an incentive, the blonde’s fingertips pressed against the other’s bony back as he guided him to the door.

                        We’re going to make it.

[thechristopherfleiss]

josheffect:

SWAMPED in the jacket Chris had donated, Josh’s slender legs dangled from it in ripped up jeans, almost hanging off his much smaller frame;  emaciated, whole form half the size and drawing attention to his meager height.  Pressed against his friend for much needed balance it was clear how different he was now, not only in physicality but in demeanor, the jokes once flowing like the river upstream, now frozen over as the stinging winter air that surrounded them. The walk was more of a hobble, a stop-start limp, a pained tiptoe on ripped up soles that left behind dirtied, bloodied prints.  Labored steps took so very long to take that it felt like years until the cable station was in sight, by the time those flickering orbs caught sharpened sight Josh could safely be described as DEAD ON HIS FEET.

Broken lips spread into a V I O L E N T L Y extended smile, and glazed over eyes that still clutched to any remaining innocence glanced up to meet Chris’. Slowly, awestruck, he broke away from his friend and waked ( more like zig-zagged ) over to the door, tugging it open with maximum effort at how weak his arms had become, stumbling through onto solid ground. Again he wanted to cry, but as eyes pooled he harshly blinked and pushed himself to open the door of the awaiting cart, pretty much collapsing into the seat with his head against the side. As the bench weighted down with the presence of the other his own shifted, and forehead touched the muscles of the boy’s arm, a pillow he could easily fall asleep against. 

Rumbling gears began shuddering the pair down the mountain. Josh stayed curled up in his position, silent and content, fear and pain fading with face buried in the scent of Chris. In the darkness of closed eyes it sunk in that his best friend had done this all for him. Trekked to the cable car, took the unsteady ride up, trudged through the snow and into the awaiting blackness of the mines without knowing for sure that he was even ALIVE. The sight could’ve been one of nightmares and, granted, the one that was greeted wasn’t desirable either, but Josh was safe. B R O K E N , F R O Z E N, but S A F E.

“  – We can watch Kill Bill,  ” Josh suggested with a gentle smile, scrunching his nose in a slight sniff to stop it dripping from the cold, the tip blushed with pink. “  And we can get  pizza.  ”  Words were slow and quiet, and FRAIL arms dragged the jacket further around him with a quiver of lower lip, trying to trap any warmth he possibly could as breath turned to short clouds. The soft humming of the cart as it wobbled down the expanse of mountain begun lulling Josh into a light sleep. The complete lack of rest that meant anywhere still and comfortable was the prime place to drift off, and as eyes flickered and head grew heavy he whispered a few words, so soft that they were barely audible. 

              “ Thank you,”

    The wooden floorboards creaked under the boy’s weight as he made his way to the controls, key in hand. Chris tried not to look at the walls, where f a d e d red paint still told him to DIE DIE DIE. One glance over his shoulder told him that Josh had not noticed the havoc he had caused, and was already waiting inside the cart. Broken glass still littered the floor, toppled cabinets spilling ripped pieces of paper all over the place. It was still SURREAL — almost impossible — to the boy that Josh was the one who had caused all of this. That it was Josh who had forced him to make horrible, haunting decisions just to .   .   . HURT him ? Just to have his r e v e n g e , as if Chris could help it that Hannah and Beth were dead, as if he had played a fucking part in any of it ? No matter how RIDICULOUS that sounded, the blonde could not come to any other conclusion. Hook line and sinker, for every little stinker. Of course, Chris knew that the other was SICK, that he’d been off his meds and that the real Josh – his Josh – could never be that cruel to him. But still, it stung, knowing that the one person he had trusted more than a n y o n e else had betrayed him like this.

    It was wrong of him – God, Chris HATED himself for even thinking these things – but that one night had done more to the boy than he let on. He could still hear the terrible r o a r of the saw, and Ashley’s screams even followed him into his dreams, where they merged with his own as he woke up in cold sweat , hands trembling and eyes brimming with tears. Even as he placed the key in the keyhole and turned it, safe as could be , Chris still felt a whisper of a cold gun brush against his jawline.

    The control panel buzzed to life, and Chris smashed a couple of buttons before he too made his way to the cart, trying to ignore the BITTER TASTE that had formed on his tongue. The boy plumped down on the worn seat, causing the cart to wobble vigorously for a second as it sprung into motion. A moment later, Josh’ head landed on his shoulder.

    Blonde head cocked to the side, leaning on brown locks as the cart carried them farther and farther away from that miserable mountain . Chris fingers fumbled with the hem of his sweater a b s e n t m i n d e d l y , mind clouded by sudden fatigue. Blue eyes fluttered close, brain attempting to cast all the bad thoughts from before out of his head.     ❝ Don’t thank me, ❞ the boy muttered in response to the other’s words, syllables lined with something that tasted an awful lot like guilt. Guilt for not saving Josh sooner, for the miniscule part of him that still blamed the other for the CAVORNOUS IMPRESSION that night had left on him. ❝ I would’ve dragged you straight outta hell, ❞ Chris added, as the roaring engine of the cart faded into s i l e n c e and the doors opened, cold winterair flowing in.     ❝ After you, sir. ❞ Words shaped into a JOKE , yet his once-humerous tone now came out flat as lips tried to curl into a smile, and only half succeeded. Eyes darted over at Josh next to him, whose soft features were hardened by grime and blood, and Chris realised — for what felt like the millionth time, yet still hurt like it was the first — that whatever his friend had done to him, he’d paid for it in ways Chris could NEVER understand.

[thechristopherfleiss]

josheffect:

Green eyes were muted, blank as he stared back through Chris’. Every moment cold knees were let imprinted in the snow was another second lost, another crippling thought, another aching shudder of fatigued limbs. His gaze was tired but oh so needy, before lips trembled to part and instead of speech they choked something inaudible; A few short words that hung in ambiguity, that were instantly forgotten and faded from memory. The only thing he could think of other than a blanket of guilt was the prospect of being curled up in the warmth , with someone to help, to offer solutions to fix the torn skin that let him permanently with a lop-sided, toothy grin. And to complete the dreamed image was Chris sitting beside him, with slender fingers intertwined with his own claws, warming frozen skin with such innocent affection. 

              He had to be fixed. Never before had there been a time in Josh’s life filled with such agony, such gut-wrenching pain that engulfed every inch of his being, physically and deep in his mind. Falling off the ladder of the tree house when he was eight or getting his fingers trapped in his locker hurt, sure, and they’d remain memories to chuckle over with those who witnessed them. This was beyond any type of dark humor imaginable. This was more than even Josh could think up  himself for the blueprints of another horrific prank. He was fucked up but, God, not to this extent. 

“  Josh. Josh.  ” At first he was unsure if the voices were in act stemming from unfamiliar drones within his mind, but his head twitched and eyes widened, cleared slightly from their translucency to focus on the blonde holding him. Hesitant, as if fearing Chris lashing out and striking him (   which, of course , he’d never do, but Josh was afraid of everything  ) he halted his quivering lips to form something. 

           “We gotta get safe,”

Energized would be the wrong word, but whatever had spurred him on made the boy stumble to stand, a claw rested light enough not to hurt Chris’ shoulder for much needed support.  “  We’re – Getting off this fuckin’ mountain. We’ll fix your phone, a – and me. We’ll fix  ME.  ”  His own words echoed to the point he questioned whether or not it was him that had said them, just like he doubted every single noise, yet he staggered slightly and glanced pleading eyes back to try and get Chris to stand too, to follow and offer a crutch to keep him upright. More than anyone he knew how far it would be to salvation, and how the cell reception was so spotty that calling for help at the summit was near impossible, but he would crawl if it was the only way to get back in the warmth. 

“ I wanna home, ” Josh repeated as he took Chris’ arm, blinking hard, tears spilling to sting his cheeks and the torn skin where fangs hung as b l a d e s. A part of him knew he couldn't go back in this state, to show them they’d lost all three of their beloved children to the ever-consuming SPIRIT OF THE BEAST. A trembling hand lifted to rest beside the most prominent wound on his face, stroking his thumb lightly against the sharp tips of over-sized teeth to try and come to terms with how HORRIFIC he actually looked now. He really was a monster, and it shocked him that Chris hadn’t just ran for safety as soon as lay eyes upon him.

          “ —- PLEASE, just fix me.”

     Sudden movements startled the blonde, blue eyes blinking as they stared up at Josh. Chris sat completely still for a moment, the cold of the snow seeping through his jeans as he studied the  m a r r e d  face of his best friend. Fix me. He wondered what he meant—  did Josh refer to his FACE, flawed by ripped skin and bruises, or to the BRAIN behind it, shaken and scarred and oh-so broken ?

     Frozen joints creaked as the boy rose, breaths forming clouds in the frigid air. Josh was right—  they had to get out of here, and quick. Chris doubted the other would even make it to the cable station, let alone that he was in good enough shape to wander around this godforsaken mountain on all his own. After stretching cramped muscles, the blonde’s lips parted: ❝ You’re gonna go  h o m e, ❞ Chris affirmed, wrapping one arm around the other’s waist to keep him upright, ❝ ‘Nd we’re gonna play video games and eat junk food and watch those old movies you like .   .   .  ❞ His voice trailed off, mind entangled in old, dusty memories of BETTER DAYS. Long, sweaty summers spent inside, windows wide open, silence broken only by the sounds of fingers fiddling with Xbox controls and Beth’s music blaring from across the hallway. ❝ ’S gonna be peachy, Joshy. ❞ Painfully forced smile pulled at his mouth as Chris started to walk forward. Eyes focused on his feet, careful to keep his heavy, snow-covered boots from stepping on Josh’ toes. If he just kept placing one foot in front of the other, everything would be alright. If he just kept his arm tightly wrapped around Josh’ rib cage, everything would be ALRIGHT. They would get HOME.      However, after what felt like ages filled with nothing but the cold and the sound of snow  c r e a k i n g  under their weight, the sun began to fade. Slowly at first, but faster and faster as shadows lengthened and the end of the day drew nearer. Fuck, no. If they got stuck on this mountain, they would not survive UNTIL DAWN—  if the Wendigos didn’t get them, the cold surely would. 

            Walk faster, make sure the boy at your side doesn’t stumble & get him to safety. God,  keep him safe, keep him safe.

     Pinpricks of LIGHT that shone from behind the trees told him that they were nearing the cable station at last. Chris had left all the lights on, despite the fact that he could almost see Sam’s  d i s a p p r o v i n g  face float in the air in front of him, giving him one of her long, passionate save-the-planet speeches. ❝ Look at that, ❞ the blonde said, free hand gesturing in the direction of the light as if it were HEAVEN itself. Despite the darkness closing in around them, Chris allowed himself to feel a spark of hope.

[josheffect]

Maybe it was the new layer on bare, goose-bumped skin that suddenly send tingles of warmth through his numb body, but if asked Josh would be convinced that it was Chris’ presence causing his heart to swell in his chest. If it wasn’t for the soft rising and falling of his emaciated chest it wouldn’t be far-fetched to expect the worst, but he drew little wheezing breaths, and blinked translucent eyes back to focus. “ Yeah man, I’m good.. ” S H O C K S of life shuddered through the pale form that remained sprawled across crystalled strands of grass, rolling, finding cropped sides of his hair resting upon fabric of his best friend’s clothing. 

D E L I R I U M . Like a goldfish settling into a new tank needing an hour to settle, Josh was agonizingly overwhelmed,  the beauty of surroundings he had convinced himself he’d never see again was all a little too much. A giggle was distant, soft as it fell from muted lips, but slowly the tone faded into more of a sob. Washed out skin of emaciated shoulders wracked and FILTHY hands raised to cup his face as a ghoulish wail erupted, sobs hitching desperate breaths at the shock of pain from torn lips. 

Everything, all at once, crashed down upon. At least in the mines his mind was bleak, terrified to the point of blurred lines between reality and delusion At this point, he begged that everything was all just a dream, a twisted imagination to discuss over the prospect of a higher dosage. Instead tears stung open wounds as his thick upper lip quaked, and his features smushed into Chris’ shirt to silence himself. ( Your sisters are dead, and it’s your fault. You lost your friends, and it’s your fault. Its your fault. ) Booming, deep voices echoed in the pit of his mind, a voice he knew wasn’t his own, wasn’t real. How long would it take Chris to figure out that his best friend was I N S A N E .

The tranquil snowscape descended into a vast prison, bleak white matching the colour of the shards of his spine pressing against skin of a monster. Crisp air dug sharp boots into his backbone as it climbed, as his shakes returned, as he watched the world around him through a SHATTERED lens. The scent of pine more or less burned flared nostrils, sun blinding sensitive eyes. Everything that had once seemed so beautiful slotted perfectly between the flitting frames of his nightmares. 

And Josh just continued to cry. It didn’t need explanation, and even if he was willing to offer it would come out broken, words soaked with despaired tears. His head raised to meet the pooled eyes he had missed so much in the darkness, mouth agape, fresh blood trickling over the ridge of his chiseled jawline from fangs protruding out of sore gums. “ Can they fix my face? “ Was all he managed to blubber, ENDLESSLY SOBBING, a lost child, “I-It hurts. I’m not okay.. I w–want them to fix me. C–Can.. Can the doctors .. ?–” The reflection in Chris’ dirtied glasses was enough to provoke even more tears, if his blown eyes could manage even a single more. Clawed nails searched at Chris’ jean pockets until he found something that felt like a phone, groping to pull it from his pocket, struggling with spindles of fingers to navigate the spider-webbed screen to somehow signal for help.

Hands were frozen, and he let the phone topple onto Chris’ belly with a keening whine. He shook too much to be able to call anyone, instead curling back up to soak the symbol of the boy’s shirt with a MOURNFUL stream. A sharp intake of breath caught subtle notes of cologne beneath the dirt and blood and, although Josh was frantic,

                 Chris was his salvation .

[thechristopherfleiss]

      His heart broke is a phrase often used to describe feelings of woe, misery, and heartache, but although Chris was feeling every single one of these things, his heart did not break. No: his heart SHATTERED, splintered to pieces in his chest, shards stuck between his ribs and sent flashes of pain flowing through his veins. Chris wondered if Josh could feel them protruding through his chest, if they jabbed into his wet cheeks.

      Chris was at loss for what to do, more meaningless words dying on his lips before he even uttered them; s y l l a b l e s  could hardly appease the sobbing stack of limbs next to him. Instead, he wrapped his arms around shaking shoulders once again, pulling the weeping boy closer to his chest. It was as if Josh CRUMBLED under his fingertips, breaking into fragments until only a child remained, scared and lonely and small, still shrinking in his arms until he was all but g o n e. Chris wanted so badly to protect him, to take his pain away and tuck it all inside his own chest, give his DEMONS a place inside his own head, if that meant Josh would be the Josh he knew again, mischievous smile on his lips and a liveliness in his eyes all the meds in the world couldn’t replicate. But, alas, he couldn’t— this was Josh’ fight to win or lose, & all he could do was hold his hand every step of the way. That bothered him most of all— the powerlessness, these empty, trembling hands of his and a closed mouth filled with good intentions.

      ❝ “Course they can, ❞ Chris promised at the other’s words, doubt shaking his voice. He was lying. ( God, when had he turned into a LIAR too, on top of everything else ? ) He doubted if even the best doctor could fix the trembling thing in his arms—  the fangs poking into his chest served as perfect  p u n c t u a t i o n  to that realization. ❝ You’re gonna be a-okay, bro. ❞

      The boy gently slid his phone back into the pocket of his jeans, sitting up straight as he did so. Melted snow dripped from blond locks down his neck and sent  s h i v e r s  down his back, goosebumps marring his skin. Chris gently pulled Josh up with him, grimy hands cupping the other’s jawline as he did so. He was LOSING him. The boy could feel him  s l i p through fingers like dust, like water, no matter how TIGHTLY he held on. Josh looked frantic, crazed, gone. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. He’d found him, gotten him out of the mines—  this was supposed to be the finish line. For both of them. But one look at his best friend’s face told Chris that the finish line was, in fact, miles away.

      ❝ Josh ? Josh, look at me. ❞ A pause, thumbs stroking cheeks in a silent plead. Stay with me. ❝ I’m gonna take care of you, okay ? I— I’m not gonna leave you again. ❞

      He felt his head tilt forward, forehead touching forehead. Close, he was so close, yet he felt so f a r away, lightyears between the Josh he knew and the Josh in front of him. Hands migrated onward, from jawline to the nape of the other’s neck, fingers kneading into fragile skin.

            Stay with me. Stay with me. Stay with me. 

[josheffect]

After everything he still wouldn’t admit that he NEEDED help. In his mind he was weak, weak for giving up, for s u c c u m b i n g to the griping hunger that was unlike any sensation he’d ever known. GUILT agonized him, a multitude worse than any amount of physical pain searing from his split cheek, from trembling knees that failed to support such a frail body in the first place. The PROSPECT of light was the only driving force pushing him to keep legs straight and rigid and for eyes like weights to fight and remain open.

Skinny limbs were up in the air before he even realized. A soft ‘ welp ’ left chapped lips, and for the first time in what seemed like years Josh sounded a truly genuine little giggle in response. “ Where did these muscles come from, bro ? ” A JOKE, again, as if downplaying his own suffering and masking it with the darkened cape of sick humor. Down in the mines there had been a complete eradication of the concept of time, but even Josh understood that there was no way Chris could’ve so effortlessly held the body he remembered in past reflections. Either the duration of his hallucinations had been greatly misjudged, or he was sicker than he had ever anticipated, the blurred portrayal of himself appearing somewhat healthy so far from the image exterior eyes were subject to. 

His head lulled like a newborn struggling to support it, resting against Chris’ pectoral as a makeshift pillow. He felt his legs SWAYING as they walked and the building of breeze, but for the most part he was too exhausted to acknowledge what was truly going on. It was only when he heard distant twittering of birdsong that aching eyes opened, and a sharp g a s p stuck in his throat, almost choking upon it. 

B L E A C H E D eyes of tumbled glass glistened with sunlight as they simply stared. Mouth agape, gaze flickering between every movement with childlike fascination, long fingers raised to clutch Chris’ hand as he remained behind him. Pain faded to nothing and, for a split second, he could’ve sworn he was in HEAVEN, that he must’ve lost the fight on the mines rocky floor and been hurried into whatever waited on the other side. The only reality that stopped him from believing was that his sisters were missing from the picture of perfection before him, yet rational thought convinced him that he could do just fine without s c h i z o p h r e n i c projections of figures that were no longer there.

Turning on his heels, visibly shivering in response to the thawing snow, he balanced on tiptoes to throw both arms around Chris’ neck. They embraced for maybe TOO long, and when Josh finally decided to pull away he allowed thick upper lip to brush against the boy’s jawline, inhaling the swirl of cologne mixed with mud and sweat that had become the source of comfort for the past hour or so. Lips parted but all that sounded were choked syllables, and a hand cupped the good side of his mouth to bite back the jerk of sob. “ Thank you – 

            “ – Chris,” Barely a whisper, “I’m, ah– fuck.”

He toppled again, and this time instead flopped as a pile of limbs on the floor. SHUDDERING as he forced himself onto his hands and knees, he squeezed shut heavily bagged eyes, swaying despite attempts to ground himself. Slowly he shifted to sit and stared blankly forward, before laying himself down on his uneven back to gave straight up at the expanse of blue. “ So beautiful,”  a light, delirious mutter, “The sunshine. You. The– the birds.”

[thechristopherfleiss]

      Eyes the color of the sky traced every single movement Josh made. Every shift of his muscles, every flicker of emotions that painted his features. Chris marveled at them, at the astonishment and sheer JOY that filled his eyes, at how he could still seem so  i n n o c e n t  , so childlike despite the cuts and the bruises, the metallic scent of blood that trailed his fragile frame everywhere he went. There would never be anything more wonderful in the world than this.

      Chris’ arms encircled the other male, lips resting atop Josh’ crown as if they existed solely to be there. A raspy breath flowed through his lungs, bringing with it the fresh, sharp scent of winter. Pine trees, freshly fallen snow, rotting wood. But there was something else to it, something that left a sweet taste on his tongue when lips parted to whisper  s o o t h i n g  words into tangled locks. RELIEF. Relief that the pale sunlight was shining down on him, but, even more than that, that it was shining down on Josh, too.

      The touch of chapped lips against his jawline drew an almost inaudible gasp from Chris’ mouth. Was skin on skin meant have this effect ?  Was it meant to send a crackle of electricity through your bones, to fill you up with a WANTING so wild you could barely contain it ? Unfortunately, the boy never got an answer to these any of these questions, for a heartbeat later the touch was gone. Josh fell, and, in utter surprise, Chris let him, arms pulling back as the other tumbled down to the frozen earth.       He was wearing four layers of clothing and yet, the blonde went completely cold, blood freezing over in a mere second as he watched Josh fumble around in the snow, bones almost piercing through his skin. The body was only a vessel, but God, his was  r i p p e d  at every edge, cracked bones and an empty stomach making up the FOUNDATION for grimy skin and blank eyes. That thought alone was enough to spear through the arteries and chambers of his own heart as he looked down on his best friend’s bare back, covered only in scraps of his shirt and shivering in the winter cold.

            ❝ J-Josh ? Are you okay ? ❞

      Empty words, he knew, he knew, but it were the only words he managed to force across his lips as he DROPPED to his knees, almost ripping his coat from his back before draping it over Josh’ shoulders. WORRY only drained away after the other’s muttered words wrapped themselves around him, hanging in the chilly air long after they were uttered. A small smile cracked through Chris’ worried frown, and he allowed rigid muscles to relax, laying down next to the other boy as he pulled him closer to his chest. The snow soaked the back of his shirt, but that didn’t matter now.

                              It didn’t even exist now.

      The only thing that existed was JOSH, breathing, alive against his side, and the pale blue sky, so large and so empty it felt like it weighed down on his chest. Chris laced his fingers through the other boy’s and whispered, in a voice so soft he himself could barely hear it himself: ❝ You’re gonna be okay. ❞ & this time, he actually believed it.

[thechristopherfleiss]

{ josheffect }

         Could he walk? If anyone else had asked him his head would’ve whirled around to allow bloodied lips to bark an angry response, but he could never speak anything but niceties to his friend. After all, it was Chris who had returned, and even before all this the blonde boy was the closest Josh had ever experienced to a true friend. “ I’m fine, COCHISE. Don’t worry about me,” Words were so soft, voice that was once so loud and self-assured that it bordered on cringe-worthy reduced barely a whisper. Still, each letter carried the spark of a joke, faint but remaining and rising above the searing pain in every single fragment of his being.

Ever a fighter, he tried his best to drag his legs to straighten, to gather every last ounce of strength and keep himself upright as he staggered slightly into the d a r k n e s s. Attempts to move on his own accord were soon met with failure when he slumped back against Chris with an agonized cry, breath thumping heavily against the other in time with erratic heartbeat. He was never the type to admit his own defeat, let alone blatantly ask for help, but he reached out icy hands to clutch Chris’ with eyes wide, pleading. 

                 More than anything, he just wanted to see light again. He wanted to see the little paw prints of squirrels in the snow. He wanted to see his favorite movies for the twentieth time ( which , for the record, were any of the eighties classics ) , to snuggle on the couch with a greasy pizza and have someone to share the night with. The nails that were cracked and bleeding at the beds, long and enough to pierce flesh were a reminder that the mundane he craved could never be. He knew he was a BEAST, that humanity had been ripped away from him over a stupid mistake, something he blamed himself for entirely.

“I don’t think I can,” Gaze cast down to focus on the scuffed knees of his jeans, thankful that through the darkness Chris was oblivious to the severity of his injuries, how broken he truly looked. There was no doubt that he was aware of how emaciated Josh was from the embrace, at the mountain range that was sharp vertebrae PROTRUDING from near translucent skin. He begged that the cuts that most likely required stitches would stay hidden, let alone the gash that fangs laced, that o o z e d blood down to his sharp jawline. “ It hurts, ‘n I’m.. real dizzy.”

                   Acting as if perfectly timed punctuation Josh raised his hand to hold his forehead and released a breath of a groan, the  GHOST of complaint as his spare hand held Chris’ arm for support. He could barely sit up any longer, let alone walk to the light that seemed miles out of his reach. Breath continued to s p i l l from broken lips and rip at his throat as they trembled to surface, slowing, battling against the sudden urge to sleep. 

            GOD, all he wanted was to sleep.

The would-be joke tugged at the corners of his mouth, a small smile spreading across his features. COCHISE. The single word spread a warmth through his chest, as if it were an  e m b r a c e . However, the smile melted off of his lips a moment later as he tried to keep his best friend from CRASHING to the ground, wrapping an arm around his waist and lacing his free hand through the other’s icy fingers. It cost him little strength to keep Josh upright — how much weight could he possibly have lost in such a short time span ? — , yet the pleading, tortured look in his eyes made Chris’ heart ten times HEAVIER. He couldn’t help but wonder what those eyes had seen, that they could produce such an AGONIZED gaze. ❝ ’S gonna be okay. I’m gonna get you outta here, ❞ Chris promised, words wrapped in a tone so s o o t h i n g he almost believed them himself.

In one swift motion, the blond boy scooped his fallen phone up from the damp mine floor. The screen had  c r a c k e d  from the fall, but to his relief, it still worked. Guided only by the light of his iPhone 6, Chris then carefully lifted his best friend from his feet, and carried him through the winding paths and passages of the mines. Josh’ frame was so LIGHT, and it fit inside his arms as if he were a child still, bloody feet dangling over one arm as his head rested on the other. The boy held Josh close, maybe even c l o s e r than necessary, just to reassure himself that he was real, that he was here, and that everything was going to be okay.

For a while, neither of them said anything, and the air was filled only with heaving breaths and heavy footsteps. The rhythmic sounds brought about some kind of ARTIFICIAL TRANQUILITY, steadying Chris’ heartbeat and almost making him forget the state Josh was in. During this time, Chris’ mind  w a n d e r e d  off, only coming back to focus when he had to make a sharp turn or step over big rock. His thoughts weren’t GRAND — God knew he was too exhausted from everything that had happened that day to philosophize about life or anything like that — , but instead brought him back to hot summers spent laying lazily in the grass, Josh at his side as the ate ice cream and talked about whatever eight year old boys talked about. They brought him back to snowball fights and hot chocolate afterward, to ankles caked in mud as they  c h a s e d  each other through rain-soaked woods and to eating cotton candy at the state fare. They brought him back to his CHILDHOOD, when everything was soft and sugar-coated, the HARSH reality of monsters and murderers a million lightyears away.

His train of thought, if one could even call it that, was interrupted when blue eyes suddenly met the harsh BRIGHTNESS of daylight. A significant RISE in his heart beat was apparent in faster breaths, heart  f l u t t e r i n g  at the sight of that light. Who had ever thought he’d be this happy to see the sun? Chris’ feet sped up, breaking into a running pace. It’s almost over, almost over, almost .   .   .

Beams of sunlight shone down upon the two, and Chris stood still for a moment, gently releasing his best friend from his arms, setting him back down on his feet. This light seemed to give Josh a HALO, a golden crown sitting atop blood matted hair. The blonde closed his eyes, drinking in the sunlight as he decided right then and there: 

I’m going to give this boy the sun.

[thechristopherfleiss]

{ josheffect }

         This wasn’t food. This wasn’t food. The words drilled into Josh’s head as it cocked at his spine, and he stared blankly for a while as if he had completely forgotten the momentary realization of who stood before him. Like a switch the m o n s t e r inside of him clouded over that impressionable mind, and another soft growl rumbled in his stomach, building in his throat as he fought to distinguish the present company from the image of SUSTENANCE. Toes curled and he raised himself on he balls of his feet, before blinking milky pupils hard and lowering to relax. Humanity had returned, in a matter of seconds flitting between the consciousness of MAN and BEAST.

                                               Stale blood of his last meal burned in his gullet, as if he was suffering from a sudden bought of indigestion.  All of a sudden, Josh’s whole world fell, foundations cracking as the realization hit him like a full-speed train. In the first time since he’d seen light there was something, SOMEONE, there, tangible before him, someone to hold.

   O H M Y G O D, was he real? These days, weeks - however long he had been down there - had been one long string of delusions, every pitch black corner hiding the pale, lifeless face of one of poor sisters. Shaking, spindly fingers reached toward the distorted face of his best friend in an attempt to reassure himself that this was real. “ Chr–is. Chris. P-Pl.. Please, ” He wasn’t entirely sure what he was begging for, what he needed the boy to give him, but when warm hands clutched his battered ones he realized that it was him he needed, and only him. Words weren’t enough. Even if he could gather the thoughts coherently it would be agonizing to speak them, words like barbs in his throat, noise cowering in fear as if Chris would crumble to nothing before him. He had to be R E A L. He didn’t D E S E R V E this.

                           “ You came back. ” 

Dizzy laughter faded to leave a toothy smile. Hands dropped from warm ones and trailed to cup the boy’s jaw, gaze flicking to his claw-like nails before fighting to focus past the reflection of himself in dark rimmed glasses, instead peering into pooled eyes. Even now, when sanity was barely within grasp, he couldn’t help feeling touched that someone, especially Chris, would come back to save him. Torn between the trembling lower lip and the twitch of the corner o his mouth, he sniffled slightly and let out a weak ‘ ow ‘ , wiping his nose with the back of his hand and struggling trying to stand, “ We.. We should go … ”

 A surge of electricity rippled down the SPAN of a rigid backbone as skin touched skin. Despite the coldness of Josh’ hand, its presence on his cheek was strangely comforting, and Chris found himself pressing his face closer against the other boy’s palm. He breathed in the scent he had missed so terribly, heartbeat steadying for the first time since he’d set foot in the mines. ( How curious, beneath all the blood and grime, Josh still smelled like Josh. )  ❝ I came back. ❞ Delicate was his tone, yet HEAVY with all the emotions he had locked up deep within his rib cage. Oh, how this had gnawed away at him. This  l o n g i n g  to see Josh again, to tangle his fingers in his unruly brown locks and breathe him in. It had almost driven him INSANE, the we haven’t recovered his body’s and the my condolences’, as if everyone had already accepted that his best friend was dead and gone.

❝ Y-Yeah… ❞ Chris responded, yet made no attempt to get up. Instead he leaned forward, wrapping his arms around the other boy and pulling him CLOSE, into the curve of his body as if he was n e v e r going to let him go. The blond boy buried his face in his best friend’s neck, sobs muffled and chocked out before they had a chance to fight their way up trough his constricted throat. Chris didn’t even know why he wanted to cry. SHOCK, maybe, perhaps because of the bones he felt stick out of Josh’ back. The boy was painfully aware of the shape his best friend was in, of the way his body had changed, turned into something  M O N S T E R O U S. 

❝ Bro. ❞ The nickname rolled off his tongue with surprising ease, mumbled into the tatters of Josh’ shirt. He just had to say it. A validation of some kind, an unspoken promise that this nightmare was finally over, that everything was going to be just the way it had been before all this. Only, it couldn’t be. The twins were still GONE, and so were Matt and Jess. Four i n n o c e n t people dead and buried, all because of some goddamned fucking prank. God, what had any of them done to deserve this ? 

After another moment, in which a raspy sigh rolled over his  c r a c k e d  lips, Chris let the other boy go, and considered him for a moment. ❝ Can you walk ? ❞ He would carry him out if he had to. Fuck, he’d carry him all the way HOME.

[josheffect]

           The thick soles of muddy boots ran bare, now. It seemed as if he had been walking through the pitch black mines, groping the walls for support, for days. Weeks. It had all been a joke. Those words echoed through the brain that felt almost as if it was floating inches above Josh’s head, so distant it no longer belonged to him, only to the hunger that was absolutely T E A R I N G  him apart. He hung on, barely. If it wasn’t the hysteria that came attached to being lost in unending black, it was having to face his biggest fear head on, to be alone with no voice other than his own quiet, disorganized one - Weak, distant, and barely recognizable.

 A false step had the boy tumbling to his knees yet again into a shallow puddle of constantly spattering water, and that was where every sense in his body screamed that this was it. It was never meant to end like this. A prank, oh my god. It was just a prank. He was only twenty - he was meant to grow and become a world famous director, have his name in lights like the greats, be spoken in the same sentence as Spielberg and Tarantino. With his talents anyone who knew him would’ve agreed that those dreams weren’t far from his reach, but even Hannah and Beth would’ve re-evaluated that prospect if they could see him now. BROKEN, both physically and mentally in every sense of the word. 

Memories played back like newsreels, like shaky camcorder clips of his early movie ideas, a badly edited montage without the music. Deep breaths slowly transitioned to growls before Josh himself had even noticed, images of blood on his hands rolling by, of swallowing hard in a desperate attempt to stomach whatever flesh he managed to tear from a mangled corpse he had crawled over the day before. Vertebrae cracked one by one and the boy released a shrill scream as his back snapped in an incomprehensible way, as teeth tore through the skin of his cheek and left blood oozing down his neck to taint the shreds of shirt he barely hung onto. Rotting from the inside. Eyes clouded and suddenly he saw shapes, carved from the dark in deep blues with no sign of life ahead, no sign A N Y W H E R E. 

Parts of him understood. Nails had grown and sharpened like claws, splitting his boots and forcing him to leave them behind as he crawled with new found strength. He remained so very hungry that it felt as if his insides were also being shredded, but he found his way back quickly to the resting place of his meal with flared nostrils and the delightful scent of flesh caught in stale air. What was left of Josh gripped the head of the man and began gnawing on whatever meat was there, but at the sound of human voice his own neck snapped to follow the noise as if it had rotated 360 degrees. He let out a growl and let the body drop, readying to pounce before everything 

         s t o p p e d.

This was not food. This was Chris. Blown out pale green eyes widened and he recoiled, hissing at the light of the boy’s phone and covering his head with his hands. Shakes overcame his whole body as he fought to overcome the spirit with every human cell that remained, crying out, more human, more innocent. Words were distorted and hung heavy with the taste of blood that filled the boy’s mouth, and translucent gaze spilled with tears as he let out a pained sob of his best friend’s name. “C-Chri..isss.” Was all he managed, slumping slightly and staring down at his hands in absolute horror, unsure whether to write this all off as just another delusion or for once to believe the searing pain that made him so very dizzy.

 “Hel–p.”

[thechristopherfleiss]

        Chris’ heart DROPPED down a ten story building and  s h a t t e r e d  to pieces on the pavement below.  ❝ Josh .   .   . ❞ The name came out faintly, barely even making it across his lips. His throat was laced shut, hands losing their grip on the gun as it tumbled down to the ground. For a moment, he stood frozen, staring at the boy who he had called his FRIEND for so many years, at what was left of him. Tears brimmed, wavered, tumbled over his lids and across his cheeks. His feet moved before Chris even knew what he was doing, racing over to the other boy before dropping down on his knees.  ❝ Josh, Josh, Josh. ❞ His voice was like a BROKEN RECORD, repeating that same name over and over again as if it were a PRAYER. 

        Hands stretched out, hesitating for a moment before they connected with Josh’ skin, g e n t l y stroking his cheek. His fingers were trembling; a part of him was afraid Josh would lash out. Chris knew he was being an idiot, he knew this was still Josh. His Josh. But he didn’t look like Josh. The Josh he knew was radiant, full of LIFE despite everything that had happened. But this Josh .   .   . his eyes were dull, lacking the  s p a r k l e  that used to define him. Not to mention the claw-like nails, the teeth .   .   . My God, what happened to him ?

        Help. Chris felt lost. He wanted to help him, he really did, but he just didn’t know how to. How does one help someone this far  g o n e ? If only he’d come here sooner, if he’d found him earlier, maybe he would’ve been able to do something. Maybe he would’ve been able to save him. The metallic taste of BLOOD filled his mouth as molars speared the inside of his cheek out of pure frustration. It was all his fault, and as his head filled up with maybe’s and if only’s, Chris could feel even more tears sting behind his eyes. 

        The blond boy  w r a p p e d  his hands around his best friend’s, as if that would make it all better. Fuck, his hands were cold. So very cold. ❝ You’re gonna be okay. ❞ A once lively voice eroded away into a wavering, broken tone, just barely audible to the human ear. Chris knew it was an EMPTY PROMISE, but it was better than saying nothing at all.

[thechristopherfleiss]

     Blackwood Mountain was colder than Chris remembered. Then again, he’d done his best to ban the miserable place from his memory, so he guessed that was only fair. The mere sight of it made his stomach turn, and he could taste the all-too-familiar bitter taste of FEAR on his tongue. He’d left here bruised and bloody, with head full of horrors he couldn’t even begin to describe and a promise never to return. And yet, here he was again, hands trembling and heart racing, following a path that brought him closer and closer to the place that had acted as a  b a c k d r o p for every single one of his nightmares for the past week. “TERROR” didn’t even begin to describe the feeling that was tearing through his rib cage with every single fucking heartbeat.

     But this was not about him, Chris reminded himself as he climbed over a fallen log that blocked the trail. This was about saving the person he cared about more than anything else in the world. This was about saving Josh. If there was anything left to save, that is. At that thought, Chris felt tears sting behind his eyes. Get it together, Fleiss. However, that was easier said than done. He found himself jumping at every little sound, casting glaces over his shoulder. Of course, there was nothing following him; the weak rays of  s u n l i g h t  that fell through the foliage told him that it was still day, that he was still safe. But he couldn’t shake the feeling off; in fact, it only got worse as he got closer to the mines. When he had finally reached one of the entrances that lead to the bowels of the mountain, Chris was ready to riddle anything that moved with bullets from his shotgun. Silently thanking Mike for reminding him to bring the weapon, he slowly took his first steps into the dark.      The darkness was stifling, WEIGHING DOWN on his shoulders as the musty smell of the mines hit him. No, not musty. ROTTING. Guided only by the light of his phone, Chris made his way trough the winding tunnels. They seemed to go on forever, and in their silence, every single noise was like a thunderstorm. Dropping water sounded like a raging river, footsteps striking the rocky floor like lightning. It was unsettling, to say at least. But at least there were no shrieking Wendigos chasing him yet, Chris concluded, so technically, he was still winning.

     Unfortunately, that victory was very short lived, because as soon as he rounded yet another corner, the blonde boy found himself looking upon a Wendigo. It had its back turned to him, and judging by the disgusting sounds it made, it seemed to be eating something or someone.

           ❝ FUCK. ❞

     The word had escaped his lips before he even realized he’d said it. Chris froze, dropping his phone on the ground. One sound was enough to antagonize these creatures—  he’d found out the hard way. He aimed the barrel at the creature, weapon  s h a k i n g slightly in his hands. It would attack him any moment now, and Chris was not planning on going down without a B A N G.