Drake The Notorious Killer.

Bloody Seduction

Fuck. Where the fuck did that cunt go?

Right and left my eyes dart, swivelling my body, jumping to my feet. Nothing. Just me in the middle of nowhere. Perhaps I have only just woken up from a dream. It's as if he didn't even exist. I slump down the tree, the cold seeping into my bones despite my jacket, shaking me with shivers.

I debate calling for him in this endless field of grass but decide against it as lightning strikes loud and hard, thunderclaps echoing into the distance of nothing. A sob breaks out from me- uncontrollable, sudden. Once it's out, it emits a chain reaction of sobs, drenching me in unexplainable tears while the rain drenches me in both the fact of how alone I am and just how cold it is.

So, so cold.

***
A twig snaps.

I flinch awake, the rain now at a normal rate with the thunder retired. I turn my head slowly into the pitch black, hoping to see a pitcher black amongst the pitched, or just anything, absolutely anything at all to let me know I'm not going crazy in some 2D world. A shiver breaks through me again, forcing me to involuntarily huddle my body close, yearning for the presence of Drake as I realise what an absence his body heat is. Fuck, I need to stop lying to myself. Not just his body heat. Everything, fucking everything. His heat, his touch, his voice, his eyes, fuck. Even just his bare presence no matter how silent or far he is.

I sigh.

Amongst all the small drops of water raining down in serenity, there's also something else. Quiet yet loud. Cautious yet clumsy. Calculated yet predictable. The soft trampling of grass, boots squelching softly in mud, aiming to step on the most firm ground with the least foliage.

I inch my eyes open, hoping to catch sight of the creature. I turn back, leering into the darkness but discover nothing but ebony shadows of a silent song, with even the rain slowing its tempo. I unwind my twisted back and neck, settling into a warm ball, sighing, trying to calm the paranoia slowly corroding me away like acid, branding me with past memories of hiding, hiding, hiding.

Come out, come out wherever you are Brook...

Or perhaps you like Brock's ghost more than us. Is that it? Heh. I knew you were a fucking coward you little murderous pussy.

No no no no no. My body trembles, murmurs drifting through the air in a fruitless effort to chase these thoughts away as my nails dig into my calves, struggling to hold myself together.

I know you're here...

C'mon Brook... We're waiting...

No no no no no. Please, stop. I whimper, clutching my legs tighter to my chest, plummeting my face deeper into my knees, hoping that they too will consume me along with the flat darkness.

I see you...— a shrill scream echoes through the clearing.

My scream.

Nails plunge into my shoulders, hands clutching my flesh, burning into it, pulling me back.

A man, or perhaps an animal. It's difficult to tell in the thick darkness, coating everything until everything is nothing and nothing is everything, where only black blurs exist amongst black oblivion.

Am I screaming, or is that just the cheering of the wind, emanating through the darkness, watching with clasped hands, waiting for the showdown. The latter seems more likely as something squeezes my neck.

It's hard to separate movement from environment, reality from thoughts, past from present. Am I even awake? Or is this some distant incubus, born from rubble and dust?