Just Misunderstood

By: TheSilverHyena

Warning:: Contains Mature/Adult Content, Violence and Gore, and Adult Language. If you cannot HANLDE these sorts of things, you might want to go elsewhere. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Chapter 21: A Shot in the Dark

"P-please, l-let me see to her." Blake pleaded, as Hoyt stood between her and the sliding metal door to the basement, "T-Thomas would b-be with me a-and it's been a few days."

Toby woofed slightly, sitting by Blake's side. However, the German Shepherd was ready to spring into action if the need arose. Thomas stood right behind her, looking around nervously with one hand on Blake's shoulder.

"Ain't no use ya cleanin' that little bitch up, I'm gonna make a mess of her again after Uncle Monty and I crack open a few beers," was Hoyt's final answer, much to Blake's dismay, "Besides, I ain't so sure I trust that mongrel 'round my lil' niece or nephew... get to close or she gets loose, God only knows what'll happen then. I'm just lookin' out fer ya now, darlin'. We is family, it's what we do."

When he reached out to pet the girl's stomach, Blake backed up, right into a wall of solid muscle. Thomas edged closer to her, like he was doing his best impersonation of the girl's shadow. Of course, Hoyt still got a little bit of a feel of the tiny life stirring in her small belly. A low growl emitted from Toby's mouth, but nothing more serious then that. With a smirk, Hoyt relocked the sliding door to the basement.

"Boy, I think it's time ya put the dog back in the doghouse where it belongs." he suggested, before he left for the kitchen, Uncle Monty trailing after in his wheelchair.

Denied, Blake sighed with frustration. She was hoping that since Thomas was in a mood about his uncle that he'd defy him, especially once Hoyt began pounding back the brews. But begrudgingly, Blake handed Toby's leash to him so he could take the dog outside.

'Mamma...' he gruffed.

Yes, of course, Luda Mae was right there keeping an eye on everything. The old woman got up from her chair, rolling her eyes at Hoyt and Monty as they cracked open their beers in the kitchen before speaking to Thomas.

"Don't ya worry none, Tommy, I'll see ta her." she said, quietly.

Blake began to feel that inexplicable, invisible pull again. Her gaze turned toward the direction of where, to the best of her knowledge, the old, abandoned slaughterhouse must have still been standing. Almost immediately, the girl's heart began to pound in her chest and her breaths became short as soon as Thomas was out the front door with Toby.

"Hush now, child. Ain't nothin' wrong, just puttin' the dog out where it belongs." Luda Mae explained, as she gently grabbed a hold of Blake's chains in order to lead her up the stairs.

"W-what a-about her? D-down there?" Blake asked, trying to pull away only to be firmly but gently 'corrected'.

"Don'tcha worry none 'bout that one. I've been tellin' Hoyt to git rid of her, but he insists on keepin' the wretch around."

The old woman sighed in exasperation, as though she were under the impression that Blake was simply upset with Kaylie being in the house... not the fact that she was held captive, used as a sex slave, and had a future bound for the freezer as soon as Hoyt no longer felt attracted to the poor girl. Without much of a choice, Blake complied with her captor and followed her up the stairs and to her's and Thomas' room.

'Come on, Kaylie... please, get yourself out of here...' the psychic muttered, over and over again within her mind.

She didn't say much as Luda Mae helped her out of her dress and into a nightgown, even as the old woman cooed happily over her barely visible baby bump. Blake could sense a storm coming, and when it hit... it was going to hit HARD! (And possibly soon.)

'Thomas... there's something I need you to do for me.'

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Meanwhile, out in the barn, Thomas could feel a strong sense of anxiety wash over him as an unusually chill wind blew in the night. At first, he thought it was just because his precious girl had to surrender her dog for the night, as per the arrangement that was made with Mamma. Though as the brute ran his hand through Toby's thick, course fur, he too now felt the strange draw to turn and look in the direction of his old workplace.

Growling deep in his throat, Thomas shook his head, leading the German Shepherd back to his kennel. However, when he went to lock the latch, something stopped him. The beast of a man took in a deep breath and looked around the barn, finding nothing out of place. But there was that familiar, soft spoken and shy little voice warning him not to lock the dog inside.

'Please, Thomas... I-I'm afraid... Something's wrong.'

Glancing to the open double doors to the barn, then back to the makeshift cage, Thomas neglected to lock it all the way. And while he closed the door on his way out, he knew that there was a spot where Toby would be able to wriggle his way out. Toby remained in the kennel, though the dog was ready to spring into action at the second his mistress beckoned. Meanwhile, outside, Thomas took another look around, unable to shake the uneasy feeling creeping all over his body. Right now, all he wanted was to get back to Blake.

*Back in the House*

When Thomas returned, he found his mother lightly closing the door to Blake's room. Quietly, Luda Mae signaled for him to be quiet, though she offered a soft smile.

"Poor thing fell asleep as soon as she was tucked in," she whispered, "The pregnancy is really takin' it's toll on her."

Grunting softly, Thomas nodded, watching his mamma round the corner back down the stairs to where Uncle Hoyt and Uncle Monty were speaking in a rather loud, boisterous manner up until she told them to hush up. Quietly for a man of his mass, the brute stepped into his room, smiling beneath his mask when he caught sight of Blake, already asleep on her side of the bed. Though curiosity quickly got the better of him once he caught sight of her sketchbook on the nightstand. He made sure that she had it with her and was curious to see if the psychic had drawn anything new.

Once Thomas knew that Blake was well out of it, he began to flip through the pages, coming across several drawings that held his interest. Places like what he'd only ever seen on TV. A rustic log cabin, though he paused for a moment, coming upon a drawing of two figures, male and female, that he recognized. In that... strangely vivid dream, Thomas had seen these two; a huge man, easily rivaling his own size and mass, wearing a different sort of mask over his face along with a worn out jacket and ragged work pants. The much smaller woman had a fierce, feral look about her, similar to what that bad demon woman Vex had, but Thomas recalled that she had been nice to Blake. She had short, spiky hair and a lithe build, very much emulating a cat about to pounce. Perhaps once Blake was awake, he'd have to ask about those two and just who they were.

Thomas continued skimming, finding another intriguing image of a horrifically burned man with insane eyes, torn striped sweater, and dirty fedora. But what caught his attention was the bladed glove the fiend was wearing on his right hand, just like the white-haired woman! Just like the one he and Hoyt brought back from that little house out in the countryside. Finally, after brushing past the large assortment of recent portraits of the Hewitt's victims, Thomas stopped on the most current page.

His eyes widened, instantly recognizing his old place of employment, long dilapidated and left to rot where it stood. It had been a while since he was last there, but he knew it well. Whimpering softly, Thomas set the sketchbook down. Perhaps this is why he'd been feeling rather anxious, because the old, abandoned slaughterhouse was somehow affecting Blake and he was feeling it through her. She was different, after all. Special, unlike anyone he'd ever encountered.

'Not let bad people hurt pretty Blake. Never allow bad, demon people to take pretty Blake away.'

The massive brute lay down next to her, holding Blake close. Lightly, he kissed her on the cheek, then at her neck before finally settling down and falling into an uneasy sleep.

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Meanwhile, in the basement, Kaylie had slowly been cutting away at her ropes with the razor carefully concealed in her hand. As anxious as she was to leave this dark, smelly, disgusting place, the girl knew that if she went to fast, she could not only end up cutting herself, but also drop the lifeline she'd been given. Honestly, Kaylie didn't understand why Thomas had slipped the tiny blade to her, but some things were better left unquestioned. (Who knows, perhaps Blake somehow convinced him to have a change of heart.)

'Come on, come on...' she whimpered, mentally, trying not to squeal too loudly through the gag stuffed in her mouth.

Her entire body hurt and she was covered in fresh cuts and bruises from Hoyt's repeated abuse. But, her captor liked his girls awake and alert when he "played" with them, and as such, the false sheriff neglected to drug her up again.

Then she heard it, the sound of a rope snapping. Once the bindings broke, Kaylie was able to discard the rest and pull the filthy rag out of her mouth, spitting with disgust. She could still... taste him, lingering in her mouth and even the puddles of water in the basement were more appealing then letting 'Essence of Hoyt' mingle in her mouth.

"That... fucking bastard." Kaylie spat to herself, in a whisper.

She wiped herself off using what she could find before grabbing her old clothes which had been left out haphazardly on one of the tables. Her entire body shivered as she slunk up the stairs, only to find the sliding metal door locked. Cursing softly to herself, the girl retreated back down. Maybe she'd be able to escape once Hoyt came in to "play" with her again, like the first time Blake came to get her. Or when the huge guy returned, maybe she'd be able to sneak out. But sitting around and twiddling her thumbs wasn't an option!

"It's too risky to try and get Blake, besides, I can get out of here faster on my own... I-I'm sorry Blake, hopefully you can hold on a little while longer."

Before pawing through all the shelves and junk littering the dank basement, Kaylie grabbed one of the meat hooks off the ceiling, using it like a crowbar to help her move things out of the way, plus it'd be a decent weapon if need be. With some difficulty. The girl managed to pry a heavy bookshelf aside, revealing what looked like some sort of hidden passageway. It was poorly lit and ramshackle in design, but she was hopeful. Finally, her luck was turning!

Then... it was all about to come crashing down as Kaylie could hear the metal door sliding open and someone coming down the stairs. It was Hoyt!

"I hope ya didn't miss me too much darlin'! How 'bout a little ass ta mouth this time, hmmm? Gotta teach the boy how to take control of his own little bitch!" Hoyt muttered, though his voice sounded a little slurred, "I'm thinkin' you has been fillin' that whore's head with ideas, then she spouts them off to my nephew."

"Shit!" Kaylie hissed to herself.

There wasn't enough room for her to squeeze through the opening, and the girl reluctantly hid in the shadows instead. The man sounded intoxicated. Maybe she'd jump him, take him out before any of the family knew what happened, then make her run for it. However, her heart began to pound furiously as soon as she caught a glimpse of what it was Hoyt had in his hand; a rusty pair of pliers.

"So, I've come up with a solution... not to mention it'll help ya suck my cock better without them teeth gettin' in the way." Hoyt snickered.

That sick, perverse son of a bitch! Kaylie felt her breath catch in her throat; the bastard planed to rip her teeth out?!

"Hurry up down there, Hoyt! Heheh... it's been a while since I've gotten any." called a voice from upstairs, "And ya know I can't get this damn wheelchair down these stairs."

"Ya wont be disappointed, Uncle Monty!"

Worse... Hoyt planned to "share" her with another one of his sick, twisted relatives?! Kaylie gripped the metal rod in her hands, slinking around to try and take the phony sheriff from behind, as even in his half-drunk state, it didn't take him long to notice that his prisoner was missing!

"Fuckin' hell! Where'd that bitch go?!" Hoyt shouted, glancing all around the basement, just in case he the girl planned to spring a surprise attack on him from the dark like last time, "Uncle Monty?! That little cunt come yer way?!"

Just as this 'Uncle Monty' began shouting that he'd have noticed "the little cult" trying to shove past him up the stairs, Kaylie made her move. Hoyt whipped around once again and the painful 'ping' of a metal rod striking the skull echoed throughout the filthy basement. Kaylie nearly lost it, in a flurry of hissing, kicking, spitting, and repeatedly whacking her rapist with the meat hook.

"Y-you fucking... son of a bitch!" Kaylie practically snarled, making sure to give Hoyt a good, swift kick to the balls for good measure.

The last time Hoyt had been in this much pain was when Jason mauled him, only now it was concentrated in one, tender area. He doubled over in absolute agony, only to be knocked back onto the muddy floor with a punch to his face, resulting in a few broken teeth.

"Let's see you get it up now! Fucking pig!"

Kaylie almost lost herself in a furious rage, however she could hear that old man shouting from upstairs, hollering for "Mamma" and "Tommy" while banging what might have been a cane on the wooden floor. She gave Hoyt another solid 'thwack' to the back of the head and proceeded to make the secret passageway she chanced upon big enough for her to fit through, keeping a death grip on the metal rod in her hand, which was now coated in blood. The girl didn't want to take her chances with the front door again, remembering what happened last time. One more tight squeeze, and Kaylie was through.

Hoyt's pained groans could barely be heard over Uncle Monty's shouting, but he lifted his head just enough to see his former play thing slip through the crack she'd made for herself. He knew where that old tunnel went, it led to a cellar door a little ways away from the house, nearby the wrecking yard some of the cars from past victims were stored. Should Kaylie successfully escape... their way of life as they knew it would be finished.

'That... fuckin' little bitch will have a lot to answer for!' he seethed, in his mind while grasping the cut rope in his hand.

"T-Tommy..." Hoyt weakly called out, "Damn it, Tommy! Git... t-the fuck... over here!"

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Panting heavily and heart pounding, Kaylie followed the tunnel, praying that it didn't lead to a dead end or some sort of horrific pitfall. The dim, flickering lighting, rickety wooden supports and slats along with dirt and roots sticking out between the cracks didn't exactly fill her with confidence, but she just kept running, even though her lungs felt as though they were on fire by this point.

Kaylie could hear voices echoing throughout the claustrophobic tunnel. Hoyt's and that other old man's shouting, and of course the woman of the house crying out in surprise as she must have stumbled onto the scene.

"I... I should have-have fucking killed them!" Kaylie scolded herself, in between strained breaths, "Blake... I promise to bring back help... I promise..."

The terrified girl came to a set of unsteady stairs, a few of which were broken, with sharp, jagged pieces of wood jutting up, but it was either go up or go back. And she couldn't go back. Carefully, Kaylie traversed the precarious steps, catching sight of an old, beat up trap door near the top. Pushing against it, she nearly felt her heart sink when she heard the clinking of chains up above.

"No... no, no, no, no no! Fucking no!"

Out of desperation, Kaylie began to strike the old, rotten wood door with the meat hook she still held, tears streaming down her face and adrenaline lighting a fire in her blood. Finally, enough of the door broke to allow her to climb out of the ground and breathe in the fresh, evening air. She gasped greedily, having been nearly suffocated by the stench of that basement dungeon. But it would be foolish to linger, for her captors were unlikely to let her slide from their grasp that easily.

It was dark, but from what she could tell, Kaylie found herself in some sort of junkyard. Far from the road and hidden by trees. Perhaps part of a business once, now it was nothing more then a graveyard for old vehicles. She didn't stop to admire them, she just ran. Ran for where she thought the road would have been. Maybe there she'd be able to flag down a driver and get help!

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Blake struggled to hold onto control, subconsciously pouring through her thoughts in her dreams, trying to put herself back into that old slaughterhouse again. She was tired of reliving her father's murder over and over again, though the psychic was forced to endure it once more. But this time... it ended differently. The old convenience store abruptly emptied of bodies and blood alike, leaving Blake standing in there alone. On one of the rickety tables stood a small silver tray with a china tea set neatly placed on it, very much like what Luda Mae would pull out when her friends dropped by. Somehow, this just felt ominous, like a warning, especially once the steaming tea in the cups began to crawl with insects, worms, and spiders, some drowned, others still squirming and hanging onto life.

Thinking it was time to leave this wretched place, Blake made her way to the back door, throwing it open. However, instead of the dried grass, locked up outhouse shed, and thin woods, the girl found herself back in the old, abandoned slaughterhouse. Perfect! It was just as spooky as she remembered, and the stagnant smell of blood and rotten meat hung in the air.

'This is it...' Blake whispered to herself.

She began to explore, though the only sounds in the creepy place were that of her bare feet padding along the dirty concrete floors. Taking in a deep breath, Blake concentrated, trying to focus on the mysterious figure that lurked throughout this place last night in her dreams. Upon passing a row of small, cramped looking cages and throwing open a set of swinging double doors, Blake found herself in the main processing room, the very place where Thomas used to work. Looking up, there was the office with several large windows, where the boss of the plant could have an easy vantage point of all his employees. But when Blake turned her gaze back to Thomas' old work station, the girl wasn't quite ready for what greeted her.

"Thomas?" she questioned.

The massive brute responded to the sound of her voice, though there was no mistaking the frightened whimper coming from his throat. While at first, Blake simply thought that it was just a figment of her dream, she realized that he felt far too real. Thomas was afraid and confused, as though he didn't understand what was happening. Upon seeing her, the giant of a man rushed toward Blake and scooped her up in his arms, nuzzling against her soft skin.

'Why pretty Blake here? Not belong in bad place. People here mean, they'll hurt pretty Blake.' he groaned in his mind.

Blake understood; Thomas was dreaming too. Somehow, she pulled him inside with her. She knew a little bit about that phenomenon, mostly through bits and pieces she'd catch running through the minds of the few who had also tangled with Freddy Krueger and survived. It was a practice that certain higher ranking members of the Soldiers of Eternal Damnation would induce upon themselves as well.

"Shhhhh, Thomas... it's okay... w-we're just dreaming, that's all." Blake whispered, trying to keep her voice calm, as she could tell Thomas was close to panicking, "W-we're both asleep, in bed, in our room... this is only a dream. Take it from me, I'd know." she added, with a slight gulp.

Thomas set her down, though he stuck to her side like velcro. A few nervous and garbled whimpers escaped his throat as he looked around. Blake knew he wasn't thrilled being back here; it brought him back to days of regularly being teased, mocked, and used. Hell, the only reason he probably wasn't driven out before the meat processing plant was condemned was because he was not only reliable, but strong.

Upon exploring a little further, the two of them heard the light clinking of chains and meat hooks nearby and at once, Thomas' nervous whimpers became deep, angry growls. When Blake attempted to quiet him down, she suddenly felt her heart begin to race and her body broke into a cold sweat. It was difficult to breathe, as each intake of air nearly made her feel ill. Before the psychic fell to her knees, Thomas caught her, letting her rest against him.

"Oh... oh my God, Thomas... t-there's..." Blake trailed off, resisting the urge to vomit right then and there.

She and Thomas both caught sight of something slithering in the shadows. Hissing, whispering voices spoke in a language akin to gibberish and all Blake could tell as that there was someone else invading their dream... someone incredibly evil! A low, ferocious snarl reverberated from Thomas' throat, catching sight of a man wearing rather ornate, dark robes step out of the darkness. This man's expression displayed that he seemed quite surprised they he'd been seen, as though he were expecting to be little more than a ghost in this world. Now, his white hair stood out against the drab gray and black of the abandoned slaughterhouse while unnatural glowing amber eyes narrowed into a glare. In his hand he held a fancy gold cane topped with the head of a goat.

'It'sssss her... sssssshe ssssseesssss usssss...' hissed a dark, threatening voice.

"So does he, my friends..." the man answered back, unintentionally displaying his altered, fang-like teeth, "Perhaps not such a dumb beast after all..."

At once, Thomas tensed up. This was another one, another one of the bad people that wanted to take his pretty Blake away from him! Looking around, only for a moment, he snatched up an old sledgehammer that was still covered in dried cattle blood, figuring it'd do well enough with the absence of his trusty chainsaw.

"You're the one they warned me about..." the white-haired man growled, with distaste.

He took a closer look at Blake, taking a disturbing interest in the slight bump showing in her belly, smirking afterward.

"W-who... who a-are you?!" Blake demanded, voice quaking with fear, "G-get out of here!"

She tried to read this "man's" thoughts, he was too real to simply be part of some bizarre dream. But doing so proved no easy task, as several furious, hate-filled voices overtook his mind, enough to leave Blake with a screaming, near crippling headache. The worst part... she knew she'd heard them all before. That which, as near as Blake could tell, had no real name.

'Blakeeeeeeee... long time... no ssssssssee...'

"They Who Have No Name dearly miss the Flesh and Blood of our Honored Mother," the man whispered, with a devious smile, "Come back to us, child... RETURN TO THE FOLD AND PAY WHAT WAS PROMISED!"

Pain lanced throughout Blake's mind, causing her to fall to her knees in agony. While Thomas initially knelt down to help his pregnant wife, his attention quickly turned back to that white-haired man. THAT "thing", whatever he was, was the cause of Blake's suffering. Grunting like a bull, Thomas started forward at a jog which escalated into a full, head on charge within the first few strides.

"THOMAS!" Blake screamed.

She felt her breath catch in her throat, leaving an icy feeling in her lungs. Before Thomas could pummel the target of his hatred into nothing more than an indistinguishable splat on the dirty concrete, the white-haired man's form began to flicker and fade as he stepped back. Just when it looked as though he were about to pull something out of his cane, he vanished completely, leaving Thomas to strike nothing more then the floor where he once stood.

As soon as he was gone, Blake felt the pressure and pain lift, however Thomas was now in a confused and blind fury, cracking the concrete with every vicious swing of his sledgehammer while howling angrily.

"H-he's g-gone, Thomas..." Blake tried to explain, "Thomas!"

The psychic focused and tried to relax, letting out a long, slow breath. Eventually, Thomas slowed in his fruitless assault, obeying Blake's mental commands. There was nothing much he could do for her now, and expelling his strength on concrete and steel would do nothing. Gingerly, the girl picked herself up off the floor, padding her way to his side. A gentle hand on the beast's arm brought him down from his rage, as he dare not risk harming Blake or their child. His breath came out in deep huffing pants once the rush of adrenaline wore off.

"There's... t-there's something horrendously evil about this place. I-I think-"

Before Blake could finish her thought, the old slaughterhouse began to slowly crumble and fade from existence, nearly throwing Thomas into a frightened and panicked frenzy once more. The massive brute took hold of Blake, causing the girl to let out a frightened yelp as he pulled her in close. While the ceiling began to crack and split, revealing cold, stark white up above, Thomas crouched down, using his body as a shield to protect the girl from the falling rubble. A large piece of the support structure broke, something that should have been large enough to injure the both of them, only the debris harmlessly phased through the pair.

Confused, Thomas glanced around, taking notice of a strange tingling throughout his body. Then, a painfully familiar voice began to echo throughout the fading building, "Tommy... TOMMY! Ya git up right now! I need ya, the family's in danger!'

"Thomas, w-we're just waking up!" Blake explained quickly, "I-it'll be okay... please... stay calm..." she pleaded.

Before Thomas had a chance to break into a panic, Blake gently cupped his cheeks in her hands and turned his head towards her, then kissed him firmly and passionately on the lips. For a brief moment, nothing more seemed to matter... but then, it was time to wake up.

::To be Continued::

Author's Notes: Okay, so originally I was planning to make this a Friday the 13th upload. (Very fun day!) But... you know, a friend came over, we hung out all day, ran errands and played Pokémon Go instead. So I hope everyone will be good sports and settle for a Saturday the 14th upload instead!

So this one, more premonitions and Kaylie's escape! I remembered from the TCM movie that there is in fact a tunnel leading out of the basement, it's just concealed by a whole bunch of junk. Hoyt also gets beat up again, always a joy to write. (Damn, do I just LOVE to hate that guy!) On a side note... one of my biggest fears is having my teeth messed with. That's one of the most terrifying things in the WORLD for me personally, so I figured Hoyt going down there with the intent of breaking/ripping out her teeth redneck style just added to the fright factor... I'm getting chills just writing this and thinking about it!

Thomas has a bit of a paw through of Blake's sketchbook before bedtime, wanted him to recognize Jason and Lisa, as he has seen them before. And now he's also been exposed to Freddy Krueger as well... so... we'll have to see how that goes. Blake meanwhile has a creepy, ominous warning herself. Now I'm gonna be checking my tea for bugs!

The "Shared Dreams", totally a Nightmare on Elm Street thing, I had a lot of fun bringing Leatherface into that realm. Naturally he'd be confused and afraid since he doesn't really know or understand what the hell is going on!

This is the calm before the storm... and the storm is coming!

Disclaimer:: I do not claim to own The Texas Chainsaw Massacre/Nightmare on Elm Street or any of it's characters. The references to Jason Voorhees and Lisa Voorhees are from Lady_Vorrhees' story, The Strange Good Girl.