ENJOY ~

Norman was in & out of consciousness. As far as he knew, he was carried off onto someone's back, & into their vehicle. The drive was uncomfortable. He was curled up on his left side, sunken in the cold leathered back seat & heard the motor run very loudly, not to mention, vaguely hearing two men arguing. The only thing Norman caught before he completely lost consciousness was a panicked voice saying, "No. Dean, NO!" Like he was refusing to do an impossible task.

Then another subtle, but very loud voice, seeming like he gave in, after what Norman had to guess was a very long argument, said, "FINE." then begrudgingly, "We'll take the kid to Bobby's, find out what his deal is."

When Norman came around the second time, he felt like he was being cradled safely to bed. Like his mother did sometimes whenever he fell asleep watching a long marathon of zombie horror movies in front of the living room's television. But the actuality of it was entirely different & almost as horrifying as being chased by a couple of monstrous canine beasts for an entire week.

. . . ALMOST.

Norman snapped his eyes wide open & immediately felt violated.

He had woken up to one of the two men that nearly ran him over back on the highway. The short one with the crew cut. He looked rather unnerving, having a solid grip on Norman's bare right arm with one hand, & with the other holding a silver hunting knife, scribbles engraved on its blade, over Norman's ruddy skin. Not even inches away from piercing Norman's forearm, he did the only thing a freaked out kid would do in this situation. He yelled. This startled the man, but only gripped harder on Norman's arm.

"NO. Kid! Hey! It's okay-"

Norman struggled to free his arm, but then took his other & drove the palm of his hand under the man's chin. Which then sent him falling a couple of feet back. Unfortunately for Norman, he had gotten sliced either way by the silver hunting knife, leaving a nasty long gash. He hissed at the pain. Then immediately gathered his surroundings.

He was sitting on a bed that hung tightly on a wall by its huge hinges. It was set up in a strange circular room. The walls looked to be completely made out of iron. Easily mistaken for a giant bank safe. Only it wasn't. Not really. On the account of Norman noticing strange faint engravings & red marks on the floor, the ceiling & the exit. The room also had a bookcase filled with a huge assortment of fat old rusty looking text books & journals. A desk with a fold up chair, & he could've sworn he spotted a weapon arsenal somewhere.

"Okay! OW." The man grunted as he was gathering his composure, "That was seriously uncalled for!"

Norman drew in a sharp breath as he locked eyes with the guy. The guy then noticed the scared look on Norman's face, clearly knowing what he was thinking.

"Wait-" The guy said pointing a finger, as a forewarning.

But Norman didn't listen. He made himself like a deer in headlights & hurtled for the exit. He stumbled the minute he got out of the circular room, finding his knees painfully sore. It occured to Norman he had forgotten he'd been running for his life. Which was an understatement considering that he still was, but instead of monsters, it was a man. Probably some mental, sick, weirdo, freak, who got off by the sight of blood trickling down on little boys' arms.

Norman quickly dragged himself to his feet & found a staircase turning to his left. Escaping out of a creepy basement with a display of different types of guns, knifes, & a variety of iron made items. It looked like some freaky torture chamber straight out of a horror movie.

He ran up to a thin hallway. Next to his left another staircase. Cherry wooden. One that still went up another floor. Next to his right was an open space, which he had to guess was the living room. It looked more like a messy archive, filled with an astounding amount of books, binders, & fat old journals just like the circular room downstairs. They were stacked waist high up, into huge disorganized piles. Norman then looked forward & found a door. Hopefully an exit. Almost breaking into a sprint, Norman did a double take as he spotted someone occupying an old, uncomfortable, fancy looking couch in the living room.

It was the other man, back at the roadside, the taller one with the neat shag of hair. He caught his breath & slowly stood as he took notice of Norman. He appeared to be having a mug of hot coffee with one hand & holding a newspaper in the other. He stood rather still, staring reluctantly at Norman. Or rather . . .

. . . BEHIND Norman.

Upon a horrible realization he dropped his mouth wide open, completely forgotten about the other guy down in the torture chamber. Norman was forcefully hoisted up from the ground by the waist. He groans as he starts pounding his fists on the guy's buff forearms.

"LET GO!" Norman yells.

"C'mon kid! Stop freaking out!" Cried the guy keeping him captive. "SAMMY! A little help!"

The one in the living room nearly spilled his coffee & rushed in the ruckus. "Hey! Kid, it's all right, you're safe-"

Yeah right.

Norman ignored the one named Sammy, & it was then he started kicking his feet. Norman landed a foot in the guy's ribcage & another under his chin, sending him to ground.

"SAM?" Yelled the first guy.

Winded the guy on the ground said, "I'm all right!"

The one named Dean nearly lost his grip on Norman's waist, Norman then elbowed him in the jaw. Sending both of them falling backwards. Norman rolled into a crawling position, eyeballing the door he was hoping was the exit. Before he even thought of sprinting toward it, he was grabbed roughly by the ankle by Sam.

Then there was a sudden appearence of a third person. A round man. Looking like animal hunter, with a faded cap, a vest & grizzly stubbled face. Matching his appearance in an even more grizzlier voice, he yells "WHAT in hell's name is goin' on here?"

NOTE: COMMENT, FAVORITE, FOLLOW, or WHATEVER. It doesn't really matter, but it'll be MUCH appreciated. THANKS FOR READING! XDD