The screams turned to sobbing, as the sharp pain began to dull, and numbing, lulling burning replaced it. It felt as though Yao's entire body was aching, his lacerated leg especially; the warm crimson trickled down to his throbbing ankle, which was aching from running. His face was full of scratches from the tree branches, only about a quarter of them were bandaged; he was drenched in sweat and tears. The young China man pulled his silky hair from his face; strands had gotten in his mouth again, and were causing a very uncomfortable feeling in his mouth, but that was the very least of his worries.
He scrambled for his bag, a Hello Kitty one, ruined by the elements and the series of event that had proceeded this moment. Blood caked the fake fur of the cartoon character, but thankfully there weren't any holes yet. He forced open the zipper, which had been getting stuck recently, and looked inside. The bag used to be full to the brim with snack foods and one lone water bottle. The water bottle was there but empty, and all the snack foods had been eaten. Bandages and other various medical supplies had taken the place of the food.
Yao pulled the bandages from the bag, pondering briefly how he'd go about this as the tears relentlessly fell from his scarred face, the salt in them making his wounds sting unimaginably. The chill had finally gotten to him as he'd stopped running; the young man shivered in the cold, his tears and blood the only hot thing to warm him.
A rustling was heard from the distance, and what sounded like singing. Yao went hysterical once more and tried to climb a tree behind him, only to fall, and hurt yet another part of his body. He hid in a thick bush near the tree; there wasn't much else he could do, with his leg hurt the way it was.
The singing got closer, it sounded like "For He's A Jolly Good Fellow." The lyrics were a bit different, and it was much slower than the actual song, slower and quieter, close to a whisper.
"For he's a jolly dead fellow…
For he's a jolly dead fellow...
For he's a jolly dead fellow~!
Which nobody can deny!
Which nobody can deny!"
The sound of a chainsaw engine ripped through the stale air, the singing came louder, and faster, and louder; louder to the point of screaming. The melody had dropped now; it was no longer a song,
"For he's a jolly dead motherfucker!
Which nobody can deny!"
Laughter began above the sound of the saw; the singing was over it seemed,
"Where are you, Yao? Why don't you come out and play!" he began burrowing the saw into a nearby tree, causing Yao to scream in terror.
Slowly, the saw stopped; he'd shut it off.
"Is that you, Yao? Where are you?" the voice sounded scared, though mocking laughter tinged every word, "Me and my chainsaw wanna play!"
The Chinese covered his mouth to prevent whimpering, the tears had worsened. Yao didn't have to peek to know who the maniac was; the loud, maniacal voice and engine noises were enough to know exactly who he was.
It'd all be over if he were found, Yao's life would not be the only thing to end if he was found by that terrible man.