DISCLAIMER: In order to maintain authenticity to character, some characters might have different viewpoints than my own, and use language or have actions I do not agree with. But if every character had my system of beliefs, there would be no legitimate character development and diversity. Any language one may find offensive, I apologize in advance. Those words I do not use, so please, keep this into consideration.

A Return to the Earth Below

"Didn't you do this by accident the first time? What makes you think you're going to be able to do it on command?" Tasha paused, "And why are we doing this in my room?"

Tasha's words of encouragement (or rather, lack thereof) were a little too harsh, and Zoe nudged her with an elbow, motioning for Tasha to zip her lips. To give Tasha some credit, she wasn't entirely wrong. Astral Projection was so far from my element; I'd never been one to look into this stuff. So far, all of these "powers" I'd exhibited came at random. I still wasn't sure if my emotions controlled them, or if it was a mindset type of thing. Didn't mean I wasn't going to try.

"Your room gets less sunlight," I quickly lied. I didn't want them to know about what happened. Scaring them would only put them in danger, "Either I try to find them this way, or we have a bunch of teenagers run through the streets begging for drinks, drugs and pre-marital sex, and hope the guys get our invitation," I sighed, wiggling in an attempt to get more comfortable on Tasha's surprisingly stiff bed. Zoe had queued up a YouTube video, some guided meditation and binaural beats that were supposed to help, or enhance, astral projection.

"WARNING: INTENSE."

Yeah, sure. Okay.

"It seems dangerous?" Tasha looked to Zoe for backup, but her girlfriend was too busy closing my curtains, making sure the room was dark enough.

"Here," Zoe removed her cloth headband, "Put this over your eyes. It's definitely not dark enough in here."

"Daylight will do that," I took the headband from her, and before I placed it over my eyes, added, "I don't think it will be too dangerous. I should be okay."

"And if you fall asleep?" Tasha crossed her arms. Briefly I ignored her, sliding the headband over my head until it rested on top of my eyes, completely blocking my sight.

"If it looks like I'm having a nightmare. Wake me up."

I'm not sure how long I was laying there. Zoe and Tasha did a surprisingly good job of staying perfectly quiet, allowing me to clear my mind. Through my headphones, a man spoke quietly in a low, monotone voice. Telling me to inhale….and exhale….inhale….and exhale….each time, relaxing a different part of my body. The hard part was staying focused. It was hard to not think about earlier. Had it been a daydream? A hallucination? Had Freddy's words just gotten to me?

Come on. Focus, you idiot, I mentally pushed those thoughts away, sweeping them to the side for now, You've got a job to do.

I can't explain how I knew I had separated from my body. By now I'd long tuned out the YouTube meditation. Each beat of gentle music sounding further and further away, almost like it was a memory of music rather than music itself. A ticklish, floaty feeling bubbled up from my core, and when I opened my eyes, my vision rippled with translucent, oil-slick darkness.

With far more ease this time I was able to ground myself, knowing exactly where I wanted to be. From up above I could see Tasha pacing back and forth, nearly walking straight into her trophy shelf each time. Zoe sat in the old bean-bag chair, legs crossed and resting her chin in her hands. In this strange astral world I could see their auras yet again, but they were vastly different. When my feet "touched" the ground, I hesitantly approached Zoe, squatting in front of her. Shades of blue and pink swam in swirls around her but the majority was a heavy, thick grey. Further beneath it was thin strands of black, that seemed to be swatting at the blues and pinks as they tried to press on.

Tasha's aura outdid Zoe's in vibrancy. A beating swarm of reds and pinks, each taking turns at the forefront. An impressive strobe of color. I looked down at my own hands, the tips of my fingers were black. Threads of black veins criss-crossed up my arms, meshing with what looked like an array of colors. Orange, red, blue, green, even grey; an the occasional little spot of white. But that thick black illness was spreading, growing thicker.

This is a problem for Future Ash, I said out loud, even if Zoe or Tasha couldn't hear me, right now, I need to focus…how do I find Michael and Jason?

Leaving the house and simply walking through town, aimless and without direction, seemed pointless. I'd snap out of this trance long before that. A metaphorical clock ticking down, the time limit a mystery to me, I pressed my palms to my cheeks. Nothing. There was no sensation of touch. Still, it was comforting.

Okay think, think, think, I drummed my fingers on my cheeks, maybe I can track them down? Use their energy like a beacon? I remembered that vicious pulse Michael's aura gave off. Remembered the viscous tar that dripped from his very being. It was somewhere out there, and I knew if I could just focus I would find it. Taking a single deep breath, I "closed" my eyes, allowing myself to be swallowed by that oil-slick nothing once again. My body was still, but the space around me was spinning every which way, slowing down when it felt a change in atmosphere. But still, I was not feeling Michael. An overwhelming sense of danger plagued my sense of focus. A strange, primal understanding that I seemed to understand without needing to be told. Still, just beyond the dark, behind layers of reality, I could feel darker things attempting to break through and find me, clawins at the barrier like wild animals. Whatever they were, they were hungry.

Where are you Michael? I whispered, still as could be as the nothing spun out around me. Abruptly it came to stop, nearly throwing my forward and through the puddle-like tear in the void. Color returned in a watercolor blur, my ears popped and silence turned to screams, and as I emerged from the nothing and into the world I looked down at my feet. I was standing in a puddle of blood. I had no reflection, but someone else did.

Directly in front of me, a young man stared back at me. Well, he would have if he could see me. Or see anything. His eyes had been gouged - no, not gouged, they had been completely squashed - and all I could see was the pulpy, gooey mess left behind. His face was frozen in a perpetual scream, further accentuated by his broken jaw dangling like a loose tooth off of his face. Whoever he was, or had been, he had been reduced to a mess, his corpse slumped against the wall of his smoke filled kitchen.

Or maybe not his kitchen. Someone was still screaming somewhere else in the house. Enough smoke had filled the room yet the fire alarm was silent. It looked as though it had been broken. Carefully I knelt down, looking through the foggy glass of the oven door. An animal of some kind, it was impossible to tell what it used to be, was nearing well done.

Upstairs I heard another scream, and quickly followed the sound up to a halfway open bedroom door. A hand shot out from it, grabbing the edge and throwing it open for me. A pale face freckled with blood splatter appeared, her tear filled eyes looking frantically for an escape of some kind as raw and red fingers clawed at the other edge of the frame. Her tank top was covered in blood, a furious wound spewed blood from her right shoulder, the rapid beating of her heart only pushing more and more blood out. Mouth open, teeth glistening with spit as she let out another desperate cry for help.

Behind her, the massive Shape easily caught her by the arms, and without hesitation, threw her straight across. Still screaming the girl soared straight into the wall beside her stairwell, body curling as she crumpled onto the stairs, rolling down them. The sound of broken bones rattled as she fell, leaving smears of blood behind. Wasting no time, Michael himself descended the stairs, knife wrapped tightly under his fingers. Keeping just enough distance between us I did the same, stopping halfway down once he made it to the ground floor. Her body a jangled, broken mess, the girl let out a rattling wheeze. Somehow, she'd survived the fall, her neck seemingly one of the only things that didn't break. Her aura was quickly fading to black, smoke-like swirls twirled upward, and were consumed by Michael's.

"P-Pluh...uh….ease…" mouth barely functioning, a stream of red gushing out of her mouth as she tried to speak, the girl gave one last plea. By the look in her eyes, she was begging him to finish. To end the pain. Michael obliged, placing the sole of his boot on her neck, tilting his head as he slowly increased pressure. Unable to fight back, the girl choked and coughed, spitting blood onto the toe of his boot. Until she went still.

Jesus Christ, I uttered to no one. I wondered if back in Tasha's room, my body was displaying signs that I was in distress. Was my heart racing? Was I sweating? Squirming? I felt none of it out of body but had to wonder.

Michael took a moment to admire his work, before turning in my direction. I froze; he couldn't see me, could he? There was no way. Yet he stood there, staring at what should be empty air. To my surprise, he reached out a hand, and it phased right through me. He let out a frustrated huff, annoyed he'd been grasping at air. Caught off guard and frightened I instantly flew backwards, back into the void. It spun wildly around me, reacting in tandem to my own fear while keeping me still. I reached out, looking for something to grab onto, to make it stop but it wouldn't. My hands slipped through the void and back out, unable to catch onto anything at all. Whatever lingered near the edge was getting closer, eager to catch me, and while I couldn't see it, I knew it was there.

I need...to find….Jason! I yelled through the dizzy feeling, throwing myself forward as much as I could. To my relief my hands broke the barrier, releasing me into another setting. No mass or weight to me I simply came to a full stop mid-air, in a sort of half up half down position. A tree branch was just in reach, my body caught between the ground and the canopy of leaves above. .A beautiful picture that was ruined by a thumping sound. Besides me, leaves jittered as their branches shook, the tree beside me shaking every other second. At first, I thought someone was chopping it down, until I paddled my arms, spinning myself around to get a better look.

Oh… I murmured, there's Jason…

Jason was hard at work, bashing some poor body into the trunk of the tree. It was impossible to tell whether or not they were male or female. Over and over he swung the body back and forth, chopping at the tree as though the body were sharp as an axe. A long smear of red trailed from the base of the tree trunk further down the hiking path they were on. There was a pair of Nike sneakers still attached to the legs that were wearing them. Where the rest of the body was, I don't know. To my surprise, someone had survived their encounter with him, completely unscathed. Golden curls and a soft blue sweater were a dead giveaway for her identity.

It was Pamela.

A little older than she had been in Jason's memory (or mind, I'm still unsure about that), she had that gleam of a Mother's love in her eyes. A soft smile sat on her lips as she watched her boy at work. Proud of the strong man he'd become. Similar to the corpses I'd seen she had no colorful aura like the living did. There was a thick, black viscous one surrounding her. Not nearly as present as Michael's, but definitely present.

Oh my special, special boy, she beamed, her words of encouragement only fueling Jason to swing his arms harder and harder. His speed had increased, his movements less still. I could see it in his aura, a brilliant red, that he had returned to form. No longer a meandering zombie man, Jason's energy was far more reminiscent of the late eighties Jason. Calculated, vicious, unstoppable. God only knows how many bodies he'd taken out over the past week. After what felt like minutes Jason dropped the mangled body to the forest floor. Scattered leaves and dirt soaking up the blood, bits of bone and muscle tangled together in a heaping pile. Clasping her hands, she let out a content sigh, smiling.

Good boy Jason, Pamela praised him in a sing-song voice. Jason did not acknowledge his mother outright; at the most he turned his head in the direction of her voice. He could hear her, but he could not see her. Not awake, at least. I wondered…

Jason? I called out from the tree top, swimming my way down towards the ground. Pamela's head tilted back aggressively fast, looking for the source of this new voice. When she saw me, she furrowed her brows, clearly confused. Jason had done the same, looking up at the trees, trying to find the source of the voice, Jason it's me, it's Ash. With a trademark head tile Jason continued to peer up at the trees, clearly stumped by the indiscernible voice.

Where are you? He asked, sounded both annoyed and confused. Pamela mimicked his emotions, glaring up at me but without saying anything.

I'm….well I'm not actually here. It's like...remember when I visited you? I asked, accidentally making uncomfortable eye contact with Pamela, in your safe place? I'm kind of in-between there and here right now. I was trying to find you and Michael. Where….are you?

I'm here. His answer was so matter of fact I almost laughed.

But where is here, exactly? Jason straightened his back, looking over his shoulders, looking left and right. Apparently I'd stumped him, and he turned in a full circle, looking for a landmark of some kind.

The woods, Jason looked back up in my direction. Pamela continued to scowl at me, but said nothing.

...thanks Jason, I smiled, more for Pamela's sake than Jason's, but my voice still came off chipper, if fake, We were just wondering where you two have been. Do you remember when you told me 'they' were breaking the rules? Slowly, he nodded, Did you mean the Remakes?

Yes, Jason bent forward, picking up the machete he had seemingly tossed aside when he'd decided to use a human axe, But we've caught up now.

Does that mean...you guys don't need me anymore? Part of me felt this question was useless. If they didn't need me, I'd be dead. Freddy certainly wouldn't have left me alive.

I don't know, Jason sheathed his weapon. Behind him, Pamela took careful steps towards her boy, merging with his aura until she was gone. His blood lust had, temporarily, disappeared it seemed. Was Pamela just a manifestation of that or was she the cause? Freddy always wants more.

More what?

Power, Jason paused, looking back up at the trees, you feel different.

Different how? I asked.

Ash? Ash, can you hear me? Another voice cut off Jason's answer. Without warning the world was sucked away and I felt myself soar backwards, spinning and spinning violently out of control. Like I had been plucked from this world and hurled into another. There was nothing I could grab on to, no way to stop it, and as I tore through the void I saw dark and dripping shadows reaching for me from the tears in this reality, swiping at me. Eager to catch and consume me. Eventually my hellish travel came to an end when I ripped through the oily sheen of the void straight onto a warm metal floor.

I rolled, unable to slow myself down, finally coming to a stop when my back hit the wall. Above me chains rattled and metal boilers groaned. An orange sheen was cast from an unseen source, the entire room looking withered and rusted. I groaned; I was able to feel again. This wasn't projection; this was a dream.

"I've got to admit, you're a bit slippery Ash," from somewhere above me, I heard the familiar rattle of ReFred's voice, "You aren't easy to catch…"

Shit.

Tasha was bored.

Ash had been still as a corpse for about an hour now. Not once had she seemed disturbed or frightened. But she didn't seem like she was dreaming, either. There was no telling if this was working or if it would work at all. Still, Tasha didn't dare disrupt her. Ash would kill her.

Across the room, curled up in Tasha's plush purple bean bag, Zoe was scrolling on her phone absentmindedly. She had been checking it constantly, looking disappointed each time. Whatever she was waiting for, she wasn't getting it. A twinge of jealousy flared in Tasha's chest. She trusted Zoe with her entire heart. Zoe had filled the hole Ash had left behind after Dad had died and Tasha knew Zoe would never hurt her intentionally. Still, this jealousy was a poison, trying its hardest to convince Tasha that Zoe was up to no good.

Criss-cross applesauce on the floor she snapped the hair elastic on her wrist against her skin. It was nearing seven, and the sun was already beginning it's descent. In about fifteen minutes it would be dark outside. Outside she could hear someone was still weed-whacking or mowing their lawn, apparently the heat of the day had been too much to let them finish their yard work at an earlier hour. Mom hadn't come to check on them once; Tasha would have bet her life savings that she'd fallen asleep in her favorite chair on the porch. That woman was like a cat when it came to summertime naps.

If she is, that weed-whacking had to have woken her up by now, Tasha thought, eager to peer through her curtains to try and get a peek at the porch.

"Girls?" Zoe and Tasha both jumped at the knuckles rapping against the bedroom door, "Are you in there?" Exchanging a nervous look to one another, Tasha uncrossed her legs, standing up.

"Yeah, coming sorry," Tasha called back as softly as possible, eyeballing her sister. She hadn't moved once, her body almost rigid as it laid there. Zoe mouthed something along the lines of 'what the fuck do we do?'. Tasha shrugged, opening the door a crack, "What's-"

"Are all three of you in here?" Lorraine cut her off, pushing the door all the way open much to Tasha's chagrin. If she hadn't moved back in time the door would have hit her. This was unlike her mother. Maybe five years ago it would have tracked but with the girls being this grown, it was odd.

"Yeah, why?" Tasha asked as Lorraine closed the door behind her.

"Listen carefully. There is…'' she hesitated, "a man outside. I called Tom, he is on his way home. But we need to stay here, okay?" Lorraine instructed, and she noticed Ash laying on the bed, "Is Ash asleep?"

"Kind of." A knot formed in the pit of Tasha's stomach, and she realized that the "weed-whacker" had grown a bit louder. It wasn't aggressively noisy but more of a consistent purr, the sound of a running motor rather than a running blade.

"Ash, honey, I need you to wake up," Lorraine shook Ash less than gently. Meanwhile, Tasha was crossing the room, peeling the curtains back as gently and slowly as possible. Lorraine noticed, whipping around and half-whispering, "Tasha wait!"

Outside, near the line of trees where their yard became the woods, Tasha could see someone was circling their property. Or least casing the backyard. Lorraine was quick to run up from behind and close the curtain, but Tasha was able to get a glimpse of their flesh-colored mask, a chainsaw held firmly in their hands.

Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me, she thought. Had that laser tag freak found their home? Oh my God...he found their home. What if the others were on their way?

"I don't think he knows anyone is home and we're keeping it that way," Lorraine said in a hushed voice, returning to the bedside, "Ash, wake up."

"Who's he?" Zoe asked, not Lorraine but Tasha.

"One of them," Tasha replied in a low voice, and then louder, "I don't know who."

"I saw him, creeping around in our woods. I saw he had a chainsaw and ran inside before he could see me. I don;t think he saw me Ash, wake up!" Lorraine's voice raised in pitch, a frantic nervousness creeping in, "Did you three do drugs, why isn't she waking up?" Tasha was feeling the crippling weight of the situation begin to push her down. Ash was apparently comatose, Michael and Jason were awol, her mother had just seen one of the Remakes, "Tasha, answer me!"

"She's astral projecting," Zoe stood up, abruptly answering the frantic mother in front of her, "I think that's why she isn't waking up. She isn't sleeping." Lorraine stared at Zoe with all of the confusion and concern in the world.

"What did you three take?"

"Nothing! Mom, look," Tasha inhaled, pressing her palms together, "there is a lot I could try and explain right now but clearly this is not the time. You just need to trust us. I'm gonna pull my old softball bat out from the closet now, and I'm gonna stand guard at the door. You and Zoe are going to try and wake up Ash. We're gonna need her."

If looks could commit a person to the sanitarium, Lorraine's would have wrapped Tasha up in a straightjacket. Mouth open, floundering like a...well, flounder, Lorraine raised her eyebrows and shook her head, trying to find the words. Tasha could guess a few of them, and in order too; drugs, what kind are you on?

"Zoe, do you think you can wake her up?" Tasha asked, throwing open her closet door, standing on her tip-toes to reach the top shelf. Her fingertips brushed against cold metal and she pulled the bat down, curling her fingers around it. Even gave it a few practice swings. This would work...maybe.

"I can try," Zoe left the comfort of the beanbag chair, "Siri, look up Astral Projection." With her mother still frozen on the bedside Tasha walked to the window again, carefully lifting the curtain to the side. Mr. Chainsaw had crossed a sizable portion of the yard, and was far too close for comfort. Now Tasha could get a better look at him. It wasn't the same guy from the laser tag place. It was clearly the same person, but not the same. This one seemed slightly more...colorful. Less sepia toned. More...human. A mess of black curls sat on top of a fleshy, homemade mask, his off-white shirt and yellow apron were smeared with blood. What was his name? Tasha had forgotten already. Chainsawhead? Fleshface?

"Leatherface!" Tasha whispered. That was it! Leatherface was looking around the yard, moving in small, shuffling steps as he searched for something. Could he not figure out how to get inside? Tasha watched as he walked in circles, looking slightly distressed. He looked...lost? Tasha squinted. It was getting dark quick. Her eyes widened; if he looks up, he'll see her light is on. And he'll see her.

"Try talking to her," gently, Zoe leaned forward, taking one of Lorraine's hands, seemingly snapping her trance, "She might respond to your voice." Lorraine shook her head, lips pursed like she was going to protest. Zoe squeezed her hand, "Please?" Placing Lorraine's hand on Ash's shoulder, Zoe retracted, and Lorraine let out a wavering sigh.

"Ash?" Lorraine asked in a soft but hoarse voice. Her neck muscles were right and she seemed to struggle getting the words out, "Ash can you hear me?"

Ash's body jerked viciously, her torso puffing out and falling back down onto the bed, scaring both Lorraine and Zoe. But only Lorraine let out a cry of surprise. Leatherface stopped his pacing, lifting his chin, his eyes meeting Tasha's. A thick tongue slipped out from between puffy lips, sliding across the few jangled teeth he had in his mouth.

Shit.

"I'm gonna go downstairs," Tasha said, closing the curtain and dragging the bat behind her. Lorraine immediately stood up, blocking her exit, "Mom. Seriously, you need to move."

"Don't you 'Mom' me! I'm not letting you go downstairs. We're all staying put." Lorraine reached out for Tasha's arms but Tasha yanked them backwards, quickly circling her mother and rushing for the door, "Tasha!"

"Stay up here! See if you can wake Ash up!" she yelled over her shoulder, slamming her bedroom door shut. Tightening her grip on the bat, Tasha took a deep breath. She was completely unprepared to handle something like this on her own. Stress wasn't something she felt often but she could feel some of her hairs turning grey from the stress of this situation alone. It didn't help that she could hear the shattering of glass down a floor.

"It's now or never," she nodded, her knuckles white as she carried the bat downstairs. Jumping off and over the final few steps Tasha rounded the corner, skidding to a halt. Broken class crunched beneath heavy boots, the assailant gently ducking under the door frame so he could fit inside. While not as large as the other Leatherface, or even as large as Jason or Michael, this Leatherface was still much larger than she was. Not to mention the chainsaw certainly gave him an advantage over her. Still, a bat was better than no bat. And a metal bat was leagues better than a wooden bat.

Leatherface noticed her watching him, and he stood up straight, his head bouncing as he tilted it. Wide brows eyes watched her with a strange, childish curiosity, but she knew better than to trust that. What was it with all of these killers and tilting their heads like God-damned puppy dogs? Another thought crossed her mind; if he isn't a remake...was he on their side? So far he hadn't made a move to attack her. With great hesitation, Tasha lowered the bat, letting it dangle by her side, held by one hand.

"Hi...Leatherface, right?" God, she felt so stupid. She had done a lot of stupid things in her life but this took the cake. Leatherface seemed baffled by her bluntness, brown eyes wide and watery as he watched her, "Did Michael and Jason send you here?" More confusion crossed his face and this time it was followed by a sting of unintelligible gibberish that he spewed from his mouth. With a few quick steps forward he started to walk further into the room but Tasha swung the bat into her open hand, "Hold up!"

To her surprise, Leatherface stopped, surprisingly obedient and willing to listen. This was new.

"Look. You can't just barge into other people's homes. It is very rude. Would you like it if someone barged into your home?" To her amusement, Leatherface seemed to consider this, and he shook his head in response, "Very good! Glad we agree on that. So, what if we do this? You wait outside, and once Michael and Jason get back we can discuss-" Apparently those words were not what Leatherface wanted to hear. He shook his head harder, releasing one hand from his chainsaw to point upward, before charging forward again, "Hey! What did we just say about barging in?"

Tasha only had a second to lift the metal bat up, catching the chainsaw before it could hit her. While he wasn't running it, he clearly had intended to knock her out with it. Even if she'd avoided major head trauma, his strength was enough to send her back to the floor, the bat slipping from her fingers and clanking around. Stepping over her, uninterested in her entirely, Leatherface plodded his way towards the stairs.

"Oh no you don't!" Tasha grumbled, grabbing the bat, and with surprising speed stood up, swinging at the back of his legs. She'd hit him pretty hard, judging on his squeal of pain, and how he felt to his knees momentarily. Not once letting go of his beloved chainsaw. Furious, or maybe even offended, Leatherface glared in her direction, standing up once more and revving his beautiful little machine. This close, Tasha could see the words "The Saw is Family" engraved in the blade, "Shit."

Not waiting for him to make the first move Tasha turned on her heel and booked it for the shattered porch door. At best she could distract him, maybe lead him away from the house until Tom arrived. Where the fuck were Jason and Michael when they actually needed them around? But to Tasha's surprise and chagrin, the purr of the motor hadn't followed her. Whipping around she found the killer hadn't followed her.

"God dammit!" She cursed, leaping back into the house. Upstairs, Tasha heard the familiar sound of Ash screaming bloody murder (at least she was alive...for now) and her mother and Zoe were quick to follow. Whatever the hell was going on up had clearly gone from 0 to 100 in an instant; the ruckus had turned into an array of banging and thumping, and if Leatherface didn't know where whatever he was looking for was, he certainly did now.

Just as she'd feared Leatherface had found her bedroom. Only someone inside had the foresight to lock the door. Of course, a thin wooden door was no real obstacle for the man. Afterall, he had his little buddy with him. Raising the chainsaw above his head, Leatherface brought it down upon the feeble door. Slicing into it with little resistance, flecks and wooden dust flew up around him as he carved his way into the room. Tasha wanted to charge him, to bring the fires of hell upon him with her trusty bat but it was risky. One swing and she'd be split in two before he even split the door. And she wasn't ready to die just yet.

"Where the fuck are you Tom?" She grumbled, shifting weight from foot to foot, bouncing as she tried to think of what to do. She was lucky she was staring at Leatherface's intricate carving. If she hadn't been, she wouldn't have noticed the bedroom door explode before him, sending bits of wood and white paint across the hall. Leather squealed like an injured sow, shielding his face with his arms, chainsaw hover above his head. Clearly he hadn't done that.

Instinctively Tasha ducked, just in case the debris reached her halfway down the hall. Only some shot far enough to scatter by her socked feet, and she peeked through her arms. A flash of dark auburn and the thudding of feet passed her before she could react, and by the time she did Ash was already flying down the stairs. Leatherface took a few seconds to recover, his head shaking almost like a dog as he turned and followed. Thinking fast Tasha stuck out her foot, tripping the giant. Fast to react he threw his chainsaw to the side, it toppled over the railing and onto the floor, but Leatherface rolled painfully step by step, finally hitting the floor and letting out an intense grunt of pain. Ash was long gone, and Tasha would have been completely lost to her whereabouts if Leatherface hadn't picked himself up. A surprisingly fast recovery on his part. Rubbing his neck he leaned forward, sweeping his weapon up from the floor and running straight. She could hear glass crunch under his feet.

Ash had run outside and he was right behind her.

"God dammit this fucker is persistent."