Chapter 1: The Prologue

A jolt woke me up instantaneously. It was a jolt so hard that my stomach felt as though it had gotten twisted up and sprained. My face was soaked in cold sweat and tears, and they pooled on the bed around me. I was panting for breath so badly I felt like I was going to pass out into the dreaded dream realm once more. As my eyes shot open, I could still see vivid images of that bastard man who haunted my dreams in my sleepy eyes. He would never leave me be, always standing in the corner of my eye or yelling at me in my head.

I chanted the same thing in my head that I always did. He's dead, Alex, you saw the police shoot him.

It never helped.

As my mind began to wake up, I slowly realized that I was no longer in my nightmare anymore. I took a deep breath in once the hyperventilating had stopped, and let a short and shaky breath out. My mind went through the reasons as to why I was up with a pain in my stomach, but it only took about two seconds to figure it out.

"Goddamn night-terrors," I sleepily mumbled. I had been lucky if, for the past eighteen months, I got more than four hours of sleep. I felt like crying and wailing so loud in sadness and despair from these damned nightmares – that damned man – but my eyes were so dry and sore from the countless days before of me crying in my sleep and after I escaped that day's nightmare. It was like I built a resistance to crying like an alcoholic builds a resistance to alcohol. And I couldn't scream or wail, lest I wake mother up.

I kicked the gray covers off my body and sat at the edge of my bed. I could feel another headache coming on. They always came on when the demons screamed their loudest. I got up and grabbed my thin gray jacket, as well as my watch with small blue numbers glowing lightly on it, quickly putting them both on. I knelt down and searched under my bed, until I found the hidden silver box. I grabbed it with ease and got up, taking it with me as I left my room.

Over the years, I had managed to get a technique of where to step and how to step in this old house to avoid making any sound whatsoever, and because the doors made virtually no noise, I too made virtually no noise. I walked through the house, quickly making my way to the living room. I looked at the clock on the wall as I made my way to the backdoor through the kitchen. 2:23 it read. Next to the clock was the green telephone that still had light red hand-prints around it. The blood never did wash off completely.

I doubled my speed as I saw the house in the distance. I was going to make it! My feet continued to crash down into the muddied ground as I hobbled to the back door as fast as I could, clutching my stomach as I did so. I grabbed the screen door and nearly ripped it open, and then proceeded to open the back door itself. Except it didn't open. It was locked.

"Hey! Open up! Mom!" I yelled, banging on the door as I did so. I continued to look behind me, keeping my guard up no matter what. I proceeded to bang more on the door, until I saw the light in one of the windows turn on. "Hey! It's me, Alex!"

I looked behind myself and into the woods once again, and nearly broke down at the horrific and impossible sight. Walking out of the woods was Frank, sporting a beaten and bruised face, a bullet wound in the chest, and a sore attitude, especially towards me.

"No... how the hell are you still alive?! I killed you – I saw it!" He said nothing as he inched closer and closer each second. I was terrified, I had nothing to defend myself with. I backed myself up to the door and looked down at my stomach sickly, eyeing the handle of the kitchen knife still lodged into my guts.

This was going to suck.

Refusing to die and give up the fight, I grabbed the handle of the blade shakily, and began to pull as hard as I could on it. It decimated anything the serrated blade touched in my insides, and I cried loudly as I tugged harder on it. Fresh new blood was coming out profusely, and I began to have second thoughts about my actions. But I never stopped, noticing that Frank was already midway between the house and the nearby set of woods.

With one final and deafening scream of agony, I ripped the bloodied knife out. I was panting and wheezing, feeling blood drip out down my stomach. The worst part was over. I wrapped my left arm tightly around the wound.

The door finally opened, causing me to collapse backwards, screaming in shock.

"Alex? What's going on? Do you know what time it is?" Mom questioned. I just ignored everything she said and got up, crying from the pain. I slammed the door shut and locked it, smearing blood on the handle. "Alex? Alex, what did you do?"

A loud bang was heard on the door. "Open the door, 'Sandra! Alex's been a bad kid and needs a disciplinin'!" He yelled. She looked at me, muddied and bloodied, clutching my gut and holding a weapon. She looked like she wanted to help, but then she heard the pounding on the door, telling her to either help me and we both die, or she can just ditch me to save herself. Her hand going for the door handle was her answer.

In a quick attempt to stop her from even touching the door handle, I slashed the knife at her hand, screaming as I did so and cutting the back of it open, letting more red drops fall down to the floor. She screamed as well.

"Back... up...," I grunted. I aimed the knife at her as she began to back up. I was slashing and stabbing at the air near her as she quickly turned around and locked herself in her bedroom. I went for a small table with a vase on it, knocked said vase off, and propped it under her door handle as insurance. I hobbled over to the kitchen and nearly ripped the phone off the wall. My hands shakily put in the number 9-1-1.

The phone rang once. The back door cracked under Frank's weight and strength.

The phone rang twice. A hinge fell off.

The phone picked up. The door fell down.

Going as quickly as I could, I forced myself to say the address as clearly as I could and proceeded to hobble to the bathroom, leaving the phone hanging there. The operator would hopefully get the hint that something was going down here.

I put the box under my arm and opened the door slowly, letting the noise from the slight drizzle of rain inside. The rain clouds covered the full moon that was supposed to be out tonight, though small streaks peeked through gaps in the clouds, as did a mildly dimmed version through the clouds themselves. I quickly went outside and closed the door silently behind me. I put my hood up and got down into a semi-crouch position as I quickly made my way to the nearby forest.

Once I entered the bowls of mother nature, I pulled my hood down and started to actually walk through the peaceful forest. The rain grazed my face many times, and it felt nice each time it did. I began to let myself become less silent the further in I went, not having to worry about anybody or mother back at the house.

I continued to walk for a while, and right when I began thinking I got turned around, I saw the collapsed old cabin. The trail here was overgrown with weeds and grass, but the minor details like the carving in some of the trees was what helped guide me here.

I walked inside the building, ash and dust still present from the fire, though it was slowly getting washed away by the rain. Walking over to an old and destroyed couch in the center of the room, I sat down on it. I set the box I grabbed earlier beside me and opened it. Inside of it was a revolver of some make and model I did not know. It had some engravings going around the handle, through the cylinder, and up to the barrel where they ended. It was the gun that father used to always wave around, threatening me.

It was the same gun he had used to shoot Tony.

A tear dropped from my face and onto the handle of the weapon. I grabbed the gun and looked at it closely. It was beautiful with the carvings and white wooden handle, but it had such a bad past that made me want to destroy it.

I popped open the chamber, and saw six empty holes, one for each bullet. Five were used a year and a half ago here, while the last one was lost in the confusion and chaos on that one fateful night.

After a few moments of examining the weapon, I got up and began to tear the cabin apart, searching in any containers to between each of the floorboards for the one lost round.

I walked back over to the sofa after an hour of pointless searching and sat down on it, cradling my aching head. I was getting really sick of not finding any ammo around this place. I would've thought the bastard would've stocked up a bit more on ammunition. I sighed loudly as I got up, doing a quick one-over of the cabin, until I spotted it. To the right of an old throwing knife stuck in the wall near a burnt dart board, was a round, cylinder-like bronze object on the ground between the floorboards. It glinted ever-so-slightly in the dim moonlight.

A sad smile came onto my face as I saw it, memories flooding back as I looked at it.

We limped up the basement stairs, leaning on each other to stay up and not fall. I clutched my beaten and bruised ribs, along with the hole in my right arm. Tony was holding his side and shoulder, as well as feeling his face for any major marks that may have appeared within the last hour or so.

By the time we got to the top of the stairs, I would have liked to have died. I was wheezing and coughing, nearly collapsing, but not as bad as Tony. Poor bastard was shot, twice! How he was still alive was beyond me.

"Shit dude, I gotta... I gotta sit down," I sputtered.

"Don't... you won't want to get up..." He responded. I sighed at the true statement, and walked past the crappy, but comfortable looking couch. I put my weight on the arm of it for a second, in an attempt to catch my breath, but Hell gives no mercy.

As I moved away from the couch, I heard rapid footsteps coming towards us.

"Look out!" Tony yelled. I looked to my right, and saw the 'somehow still alive bastard' running at me with a kitchen knife. I tossed Tony to the left and tossed the glass lantern at Frank, which missed horribly, but broke behind him and started a small fire. I made an attempt to dodge him, but I was grabbed by the large, bloodied man. A sharp pain burned through my stomach as he shoved me to the floor, where the back of my head collided with the floorboards. I groaned as I lifted my head up, and was terrified to see the handle of the kitchen knife sticking out of the right side of my stomach. I whimpered, and was purely shocked at the sight and pain of the weapon in me. Tears flowed down my face as I ripped my eyes away from the sight of it. I groaned again as I shook myself free of the terror, and attempted to get up.

I looked to my left and saw Tony attempting to load the revolver, but his hand fumbled and dropped the bullet. He went for the last round in his pocket, but Frank was already on top of him at that point. He kicked the revolver out of Tony's hand, which landed beside me. I grabbed it quickly, and saw that Frank was beating Tony's face in with powerful punches ever so slowly. My knees wobbled, but I forced them to stop as I clutched the barrel of the gun in my right hand. I was about to bash the back of Frank's head in, or at least try to, when I heard Tony scream "Alex!" as loud as he could. I looked at his right hand move upwards and open up, then a small object flying towards me that glinted at me from the fire behind me. It caught me off guard, but I managed to grab it. Frank didn't seem to notice this, likely thinking it was just a general cry for help. I quickly popped the cylinder of the gun open and put the bullet in, closing it back up.

"Frank!" I yelled, way louder than Tony. My side hurt so bad right now, like fire ants were crawling in and out of the wound. Frank stopped wailing on Tony and slowly turned around towards me. I pulled the hammer back on the gun, listening to the satisfying sound of the cylinder turning to the loaded round. His eyes went wide, and before he could even move or say anything, I forced myself to pull the trigger. The gun nearly flew out of my hands, but I kept a firm grip on it. I could see Frank fly backwards a little bit as a big splotch of red formed on his chest.

He was dead. He had to be now.

Tony coughed, spat up blood, and forced himself on his feet. He walked over to me, his hand grabbing my shoulder, which was hunched over, and said, "Let's leave, Alex."

I knelt down onto the ground, stuck my hand between the stiff boards, and picked up the fallen bullet. Small tears went down my face, mixing with the rainwater. I turned around and walked over to the couch, loading the bullet into the revolver as I walked. The floorboards creaked under my weight, until one of them could no longer handle the stress and strain, collapsing underneath me.

"Oh shi-!" I said as I attempted, and failed miserably, to catch myself. My head collided with the floor hard, knocking me out cold.

The rain got harder, turning from a gentle drizzle to violent thunderstorm. A loud lightening strike made my eyes shoot open. My eyes were red and crusty, and my forehead pounded, especially on the right side of it. I let my eyes close once more, but another lightening strike made me flinch and jolt up halfway in a sitting up motion. I sighed. I wasn't going back to sleep anytime soon, was I? Probably for the best.

Groaning in pain, I sat up fully. I wiped my eyes and felt my forehead, feeling a small bump on the right side of it that was extremely sensitive. I looked around, noticing that I was still in the burned out cabin, but I was on the couch. I know I wasn't on the couch before I fell, so how the hell was I on it now? I was also in some form of blanket, but it was moist and warm, like it was alive somewhat. It was comfy, but I immediately shook it off and laid it beside me, wondering what it was and who gave it to me.

The revolver... it was gone. I looked where I had passed out earlier and it wasn't there. Its distinguishable weight wasn't on me either. Whoever, or whatever gave me the blanket must have taken it and hidden it, or maybe even kept it for themselves. I wasn't even going to begin searching for it, I was drained.

The couch was facing one of the partially destroyed walls, and I just stared at it, noticing that some of the smaller holes that were once in the wall were now covered in a black material, like a thick mold. It looked like tubes and wires, but it seemed natural and real, not artificial. It did feel warmer in here now, but only slightly so as their were still two fairly large holes that even I could crawl through if I oh-so wanted to. Hell, one of the holes was one of the only windows that was in this cabin, and it was now a gaping hole with little deadly shards scattered around it to let the cold air that was outside in.

"Hel-" My voice was cracking badly. Clearing my throat, I restarted, "Hello? Anyone there?" I hear no response but the downpour outside. I sigh. "Thanks for the... blanket? Whatever you are, thanks," I say. I got up slowly, beginning to feel like I'm being watched.

"Can whoever or whatever you are come out?" I was eerily calm at the fact that someone else was out here. I don't think it fully set in that I wasn't alone. This time I heard something new. It was a hiss, like a snake's but much deeper and longer. I didn't move for the longest time after hearing this, alarms going off in my head, but none of them actually registering to my brain, like I knew it was there, but I couldn't react to it appropriately. I just silently muttered "What the fuck?" real slowly and even more slowly made my way to the doorway that led out of here.

However, as I was about to leave, a black form twisted and dropped down in front of said doorway. It was gigantic, beating me by a couple of feet in height without a doubt. It looked like a pure, living weapon from the darkest and most twisted minds from Hell itself. It shouldn't even exist. And yet, it was right here, right in front of me.

Blocking my escape.

I jumped slightly, my brain not understanding what was happening for about a second and a half until it forced me to jump back so hard that I fell flat on my rear. I started to crawl backwards as it slowly made its way into the cabin. As he did this, I immediately scrambled to my feet and ran into the living room, grabbing the handle of the earlier seen knife stuck in the wall. I started to pull it with all of my force, and I half expected the handle to come off while the blade stayed in the wall, but it came out in one piece. I swung around from the force of me pulling the knife out of the wall, seeing the beast directly in front of me now. My heart-rate skyrocketed when I saw how close it was without hearing it first. As I came around like a bat out of hell, the blade in my hand slashed the creature's chest. The hide was thick, but it drew blood, which ended up squirting a small amount on my right shoulder, nearing the area where the shoulder ended near the neck.

My face scrunched and my eyes watered as pain flared throughout my shoulder and arm. My mouth was open in a form of silent scream as I doubled over in pain. An audible sizzling sound was heard as the skin, fat, and muscle began to melt. I reached my hand up to my shoulder, but never touched the wound in fear of burning my hand, so it just hovered there. This went on for about two seconds until the being wrapped its tail tightly around my neck, cutting off airflow to my brain and lungs and quickly causing me to pass out.

The next time I awoke, I was still in the cabin, but on the... wall. Huh, not something you typically see. My neck ached and my shoulder burned slightly, but it was nowhere near as excruciating as it was earlier. It was this soreness that instantly got me out of my groggy state of feeling instantly.

The area of my jacket and shirt near my right shoulder was replaced with nothing but a slight charred area on the edges of the clothing. I also noticed the appearance of a black substance covering my right shoulder. It looked like the same stuff that was on the walls earlier. In fact, it was the same stuff that hung me up on this wall.

I began to struggle against my restraints, but had to stop due to the sudden pain flaring up in my shoulder. My breath was hitched due to the pain, but I took in a deep breath to calm my nerves and my breathing. Once I felt like I was breathing fine and my heart-rate was down, I tried struggling some more, mainly using my left arm instead of my right due to the injury. I continued to do so, ignoring the gently increasing intensity of pain in my shoulder as I did so.

Just as I hear a crack and the possibility of the restraint on my left arm giving, I see the beast once again, dropping down from the ceiling. How long had it been there, watching me? I think. It stares at me once it drops down, watching me struggle in its binds. My left arm gives a little bit more with another audible crack, which prompts the beast to walk towards me now. It still gives me a stare that could cut through my soul, right up until it stops directly in front of my face. It stands there for a minute until I finally say something.

"Well, you gonna kill me or not?" My throat was dry, but I managed to hold the sentence on the first go and cough afterwards.

The being said nothing as it leaned its head in against mine.

The second its head touched mine, I felt something powerful, something unnatural. My mind began to open up forcefully, but as it slowly opened, I felt a million and one voices impale my brain in the most excruciatingly painful way possible. It felt like I had a migraine, a concussion, and ten people stomping my head in, each time stomping a little harder. I screamed in agony, but it was drowned out by the night and rain.

I passed out. Again.

The first thing I felt was a dull throb in my head, and a tingly feeling in my shoulder. I felt sick to my stomach. It was so bad, that I instantly bolted up and ran about two feet before my hands grabbed both sides of a doorway and I retched. Not much came up but stomach acid and foam, which I had to enjoy choking on and coughing up. I spat out the rest of the bitter stuff, then promptly swung around the doorway and collapsed back down onto the ground against the wall. I felt so tired and weak all of a sudden, and I would've fallen back asleep if it weren't for one thing.

Where was it?

Where the hell was the thing that knocked me out and made my brain feel like it was being liquefied? I looked at my shoulder, the organic bandage thing was still there. Had it done this, the bandage?

Before I could make heads or tails of the situation, I saw the ground move, just about where I was passed out earlier. 'Cept it wasn't the floor, it was the thing, the creature. As it slowly got up and headed towards me, I faintly recalled a warmth near me when I woke up. The thing must have slept with me. It stopped directly in front of me, then got down in front of me, crossing its legs. It was still taller than me.

"What... what are you? And what did you do to me?" I paused briefly. "Can you even understand me?"

"Yes, and I apologize. It was not my intention to harm you earlier," He said. It was certainly a male voice. It was a fairly deep voice, deeper than mine, and it had an accent that was odd. I had never even heard of an accent remotely close to the one I heard in its voice. It sounded nice.

Without skipping a beat, I said "How are you speaking? You aren't even moving your mouth, and why didn't you say anything before?"

"I had to create a link to you, so that we could speak. I believe your kind calls it 'telepathy'?" He explained. "The process to create the link is also what caused... tonight's events... when you passed out again. My brethren must have been trying to search your mind all at once, trying to see why we had another soul in the connection."

Last night's events began flooding back. Many of them were unwelcome, but they still barged in nonetheless. The pain the connection caused would have been amazing to forget.

I laid there for a few more seconds, before finally speaking. "So... what was the point of even making a connection with me? I mean, you could have easily hid from me, and I could have left without any knowledge of you."

"You were bound to see me eventually. I have certainly made my presence clear with the walls and your blanket which, you are welcome," He explained. A few seconds of silence passed, when out of the blue, he asks "Who is Tony?"

I jump at the question, or the name, or maybe both. My entire body stopped at the sound of his name. A pang of sadness striked my chest, and I felt short of breath, though I managed to roll it off as though nothing happened. How did he know of Tony? Maybe I mumbled it in my sleep or something. I inwardly groaned, as I really did not want to talk about that, not right now.

"He was a friend of mine, but now he's gone. End of story." Just saying that much blew in of itself. The alien visibly drooped at tad bit at that. I sighed and looked at my watch, which read 4:32. My eyes went wide. "Oh, fuck me running! I've gotta go, but I'll come back! I promise!" I never gave the alien a chance to respond or do anything, as I was already wobbling out the front door as I finished my sentence.

I have never spent that much time on a chapter in my year and a half of writing. This was first started in mid-September! That was five fucking months ago! *Sigh*, I digress. Expect three more extremely slow chapters as I procrastinate all of my other stories.