𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓

The angry black sea roared in protest as you passed through the entrance of the cave, barely aware of anything but the distinct feeling of a soft pillow pressing against your back as Paul lowered you onto the sofa in the middle of the dilapidated hotel lobby.

There was a fire crackling in an empty oil drum a few yards away. It warmed the tears that had dried onto your skin and its light was the only motivation you had to open your bleary eyes. The cave was otherwise empty and cold and the sound of little footsteps padding across the stone floors drew your attention to Laddie, who stood like a tiny black silhouette in the archway leading even deeper into the labyrinth of hotel ruins.

"What's wrong with (Y/N)?" he asked quietly, wringing his hands in front of him guiltily. You could barely focus on anything other than the pain – like liquid fire melting over the flesh of your throat. You held back an agonizing cry, biting into your lip so hard that you must've drawn blood.

"Go back to Star, buddy," Paul said, feigning calm as he pressed his hand over your wound. "Stay there and don't come out."

Your vision doubled and you reached out for one of the two Pauls that were hovering in front of you. "How did we get here so fast?" you croaked.

"We flew, baby. Pauly-boy got you here safe and sound," he said, one wet hand reaching up to cup your cheek. His voice was sickly sweet in direct contrast with the terror swimming in his eyes. Just when you started to convince yourself that everything was going to be alright, he turned around and shouted for one of the boys.

"David! Get your ass in here now!"

It was the first time you'd heard anyone raise their voice at David, so you knew that whatever was going on was more serious than you could have ever imagined.

The shout summoned Marko first, who poked his head around the corner, saw the state you were in, and instantly drew himself back against the wall. When Dwayne barrelled in a few seconds later, he was pulled into that same corner and they both become silent fixtures of the room as Paul did his best to make you comfortable while you bled out onto the sofa. Something was holding them back from you. Something you wouldn't understand until much later.

David finally sauntered in all cool-like a few moments later. It took only a moment for him to spot you, his posture immediately going rigid before falling to his knees at your side. You sucked in a quick, deep breath as he tucked your hair back to inspect the gauged bite marks along the side of your neck.

You felt achingly cold – your fingertips numb and lips chapped. But the blood pooling in your collar was broilingly hot. You reached up weakly to feel the source of the searing pain but David instantly pulled your hand away and slipped your fingers around his, holding them both against your chest as it rapidly rose and fell.

"Who did this?" he roared, teeth clenched together despite the pure power surging in his voice. Paul moved to the head of the couch and leaned over you with his eyebrows knitted.

"Who do you think? Your old pal Mikey, of course."

Your vision blurred. Two David's melted together into one before dividing again into four. The ceiling spun and you gripped the sofa cushion under you for stability as you rode out your vertigo. "Mich-Michael?" you gasped for air like a fish out of water. Memories came flooding back to you. 

You had been attacked by a stranger — a monster. Where was Michael? Where was Sam? Were they safe?

A hand pressed into your shoulder opposite of the bloody gash. "You won't have to see Mikey again for a long time," Paul says in an attempt to comfort you, but his words only send a strong surge of fear straight into your heart. What the fuck was going on? When were they going to let you off this nightmare carousel?