Something … something … was slithering down the back of his neck. Something long, and … slimy. A tongue. The goddamn thing had a fucking tongue.
He curled his hands against the wall, sweat beading on his forehead as bile rose dangerously up towards his mouth. The back of his head clanked against the edge of the---the thing's helmet as its tongue dove lower, over one shoulder and across the other. He could smell the gore that covered its clothes, feel the blood on the gloved hand it had around his neck.
Harry had no idea what it was. Demon dogs, birds, even deformed children shrieking and wielding knives … those were a whole category away from … this thing. This … Pyramid Head thing.
A particularly sharp thrust, and he tried not to scream. He failed.
But it was over soon, the monster backing away from him and picking up its knife (its huge fucking blood covered six foot long knife), while Harry slid down the wall to the floor, a heap of shaking flesh. He braced himself for a blow, the sharp pain of the blade slicing through him and the accompanying mental agony of knowing he'd failed, that he'd never see Cheryl again, but nothing happened. Instead he heard the scrape of metal against concrete as the monster lumbered off, bulked down by the knife and the helmet. He looked up in time to see it turn a corner and vanish from sight, without so much as even a look back.
Harry stared after it for a long, long moment, while he tried desperately to suspend his emotions, to turn them off, just until he found Cheryl and they could get away, but it only worked for a short time before the dam broke in his mind and the bile came up.
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Author's Note: Ooooh, I'm getting flamed for this.
Anna