People often forget exactly how much time could impact them. Throughout our days we see it as just a number on the top of our phones or neatly placed ones in a circle on a wall. It's just the ticks and tocks that move the Earth around for a day just to repeat to the next. It's the structure that organizes our history and events, but nothing more than that. We forget the power one second has. One minute. One hour. We forget how much can exactly happen in that time span.

Time is a cunning foe. It glazes over our problems with numerical hope while ticking away, filling each timely void with unpredictable, unforgiving events. We fall into its wishful traps, clinging onto the lies it implants into our mind. Maybe we'll have more time to get this done? Maybe I can get this all done in five minutes? Can he hide this from him before he gets home? ...Maybe we'll find him tomorrow? A week? A month?

Those sly minute hands ensnared Feliciano into believing in that empty hope that one day, in a matter of time, his brother will return alive and well. That false sense of hope. Time ticked vivaciously as its long awaited bite finally reached Feliciano's heart as the young male stared at his dead brother.

It felt like he was kneeling before the decapitated head of Lovino for hours. No matter how hard he tried to push away what he saw and manipulate the truth, it was all to no avail. His brother was dead. He was dead. He really was dead and he saw it with his own eyes.

Everyone else fell into a shocked silence as they, too, stared at who was before them. To think, something like this could've happen to one of their friends! Certainly, it wasn't as surprising at it would've been only a day earlier due to the events they witnessed that night, but the sight and fact of seeing it right before their eyes was still unbelievable. This entire time... Lovino was right here.

"Jesus Christ..." Alfred was the first to speak above Feliciano's distraught cries. He glanced back at the wooden plank behind him and then back at the remains of Lovino.

Francis's stomach twisted in unease as pieces of the puzzles they picked up along the way tried to reattach themselves. "He... must've been killed by the wendigo."

They all shuddered in unison as the unpleasant thought of that act being performed crossed their minds. As if tonight couldn't get any worse. First, they find themselves trapped into a morbid prank. Now, they're all trapped in an eerie mine trying to get out without dying. It was as if they've fallen into a real life horror movie, all safe options abandoning them.

Feliciano, with his head bowed, gripped the fabric of his jeans tightly till his knuckles turned white. His shoulder and arms trembled as he sobbed. His tears wet the stone before him, mixing into the dried blood of his dead brother. Gilbert wrapped his arms around the broken boy, trying his best to comfort but he knew it wasn't helping. Nothing at this moment will comfort Feliciano. He knew this feeling more than anyone.

"Guys," Kiku whispered, feeling his chest tighten at the discomfort of having to be that person in this situation, "We have to keep moving. Th-The wendigo probably heard us from us talking and yelling. We have to keep goin-"

"No." Feliciano choked out, intaking sharply, "I can't- I can't leave. Lov-Lovin- Brother, I can't leave him... I c-can't leave-"

Kiku silenced at Feliciano's saddened remark on staying, understanding the other's grief. However, he couldn't help but feel even more anxious at the thought of staying here. They already made such a loud noise finding Lovino... it wouldn't take long for the wendigo to find them. Who says it hasn't noticed them here already and its already on its way.

Luckily, Kiku wasn't alone on the urgency to leave for Gilbert chimed in as well.

"Feli... we have to move. We can't stay here, you know that." He said softly, putting as much care in his words, "I am so, so sorry about Lovino. We all are, and we're all sad about what's happened to him... but, we can't stay here. The wendigo... it'll-"

"He's dead." Feliciano whimpered, taking a sharp breath. "This entire time we were searching for him... all that time I was waiting... he's- he's just been here-" Stutters and a quivering breath separated his words, covering the fact his sentences weren't complete in the first place. Despite sitting rigid before them all, Feliciano felt as if the entire world was shaking. The ground swirled and rippled beneath him as the severed head constantly went in and out of focus. It was as if the bones in his body turned to stone, weighing him down upon a cracking reality.

Francis shifted where he stood, eyes darting around the mines. He could of swore he heard something... Was it a cough? It was too quiet to determine exactly what it was. Maybe it was just a gust of wind traveling through some stone. His heart ached.

As if on cue, a loud screech reverberated off the walls of the mine, followed by the ear piercing drag of claws on the rock walls. Everyone's face paled as the presence of the wendigo was renewed in their minds.

"Fuck!" Alfred hissed, taking a step back despite not knowing exactly which way the wendigo was coming from. It sounded like it was coming from where they just came from but he wouldn't rely too much on sound since it echoed off the walls in all directions.

Kiku, making a quick decision, locked eyes on the closest escape way. "Everyone, through here! Quickly!"

Without any hesitation, everyone ran down the pathway mentioned, not looking back. Gilbert looked to make sure Feliciano was following, relieved to see the male was still able to respond to danger. However, the look he bore was concerning. It wasn't sadness nor was it fear. It was simply... nothing.

The direction Kiku ordered them to go didn't take them too far before they reached another clearing. However, it caused the wendigo's shrieks to grow distant. Slightly. Unfortunately, that didn't comfort them in the slightest. They were just prolonged the inevitable.

Francis was in front of everyone as they ran, obviously being the first to get a first look at the new area of the mines they've stumbled into. It wasn't as different from the area they just came out of. The only significant difference being it was larger and there was a large hole at the top of the mines that had a teasing view of the world up above. Great. Looking down, Francis scanned the area. Maybe there would be some crates they could hide behind or, if they're lucky, an elevator shaft to take them up. However, what Francis did find was something he would've preferred more than anything than an elevator shaft.

Near the farthest wall from where they entered lied a teenage boy with dirty blond hair that curtained his eyes. He was shirtless and had one arm outstretched towards where the group of friends were coming from... as if trying to reach them. Without needing a closer look, Francis felt his stomach twist.

"Oh, dear God, Arthur!" He cried, running faster. All that adrenaline silenced how weary his body was as he made his way towards his beloved. Everyone else quickly followed to, but none reaching the speed of Francis. Drawing closer drew more details to Francis's eyes, causing his heart to sink further in his chest.

There were two deep gashes torn into Arthur's side, a light puddle of blood beneath him previously formed. His broken leg had begun to spread into a blotchy purple and blue, much worse since when Francis last saw him. To his already growing worry, Arthur didn't react when he finally reached him.

"Arthur... Arthur! Oh, fuck- please be okay. Please..." Francis fell to his knees as he gingerly lifted up Arthur into his arms. His skin was dangerously cold and Francis internally scolded himself for allowing Arthur to give up his shirt for him.

Everyone else quickly sprinted up to Francis's side, a tense atmosphere suddenly pricking their senses. Alfred felt his body instantly go numb as he caught sight of Arthur's limp body. Every argument and shred of irritation that he held for the other earlier that day disappeared from his mind. Eyes immediately fell to Arthur's exposed and battered chest, watching it rise and fall, slowly.

"He's still alive." Alfred said, exhaling with relief. He was comforted by the fact that he wasn't dead. Arthur was still there, he was still breathing and alive. That was a good sign, right? He was going to be okay... right?

The rest of the group stood around anxiously, eyes constantly glancing at Arthur and his injuries and then back over their shoulders for any sign of the wendigo.

"We have to move him." Gilbert whispered to Francis, breath shaking as he exhaled. "Do you want to carry him or would you like me to-"

"I got him." Francis said, eyes glued to Arthur. Yes, he was going to carry him. He left him down here after all. He felt it was his responsibility now to be the one to bring him up to safety. He had to be the one, he must be the one.

Gingerly, Francis began to cradle Arthur in his arms, being mindful of the other's wounds. He carefully moved to lift him up but stopped short when Arthur stiffened with a wince.

"Arthur!" Francis breathed, quickly shifting his hold on the other as he depicted a faint expression of pain. Arthur cracked his eyes open just a tad. Francis smiled, joyful to see that Arthur woke up. However, that smile was short lived as he watched Arthur's facade gradually shift into despair as tears dripped down the sides of his face.

"Wh-Why did you come back down here? You-All of you have to leave." His voice cracked under the weight of his worries as he glanced up at Francis and everyone else he could see staring down at him.

Gilbert knelt down beside Francis, trying to give a reassuring smile to Arthur. "Arthur, we came to get you. We're going to get out of here, okay? We-"

"You have to get out of here before he finds you." Arthur made out, whimpering as he tried to stifle a pained cough. He shook his head, shuddering in Francis's arms.

"Who is he?" Francis asked gently, finding himself mirroring Arthur's terror despite his knowledge being in the unknown.

Arthur opened his mouth to answer but felt the words stolen from his lips as another shriek rickosheted off the mine walls. He flinched as his breathing grew rapid in fear. They all turned around, focusing on the looming monstrous shadow that crawled towards them from where they recently escaped from. On the ground only inches away from where Arthur had been lying, the notepad he'd been reading fluttered against a chilling breeze. It was almost as if it were calling back to life the writer of the intense words that were scratched on the pages.

"H-He's already found us." Arthur stammered, reaching up to grab onto Francis's shirt to be closer to him. "It's him... It's..."

Behind the group, the wendigo crawled into the area. It was as if it was an entirely new creature. If they didn't notice the details before, they noticed it now. Upon its rough, scarred head were small tufts of brown hair that would once get tangled together in a summer breeze. Clouded grey eyes only showing a hint of the dark green that used to shine in the irises. It was as if the dark forest had been burnt down and all that was left was the clouds of smoke from the debris. It's mouth curled into a large, hungry smile, showcasing its sharp rows of teeth. No matter how terrifying this smile was, it still couldn't hide the nostalgic feeling it brought to life within everyone.

"It's Antonio."

_
A/N:

I only have like 4 or maybe 5 more chapters left for this story heh.

Who is still reading this story?

I know Erica is (hi erica!) cause she's been hounding me to upDATE MMM but I'm just curious to know who else is (if there's anyone else)

anyways,
I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
please leave your feedback in the comments/reviews c:
I love to read them