Project 404 [DNF]

Chapter 20: Followed

Dream storming out, had George feeling more lost than ever. He blamed himself for not telling Dream sooner. Maybe then, this could've been avoided.

It'd been two days since Dream left and George had debated whenever to try and follow the blonde or reach his dad. His heart told him to follow Dream, but him brain told him to get to his dad. At first, he'd let his brain win. But something changed his mind, that something being a clue that was pointing in Dream's direction.

George's worst fear came true when he'd gotten a brief glance of the news. He'd speculated that his betrayal must've been the final seal that kept Dream from developing the side-effects. And his speculations turned out true when the news reported about a gruesome murder that had taken place not that far away from where George was. A police sketch was presented of the alleged murderer; A hooded figure with a smiley-mask.

His heart sank when he saw the sketch. But it also concluded his decision to go after Dream.

The blonde must've stolen some other vehicle because the motorcycle remained where they'd parked it. Though, he'd never driven a motorcycle, he found no other solution than to take it. The money that Dream had left allowed him to get the basic supplies he needed for his trip. To keep up with the news, he also bought a cheap radio.

"Smiley-killer" soon became a familiar term, and his heart ached every time he heard about a new victim. Still, it was the only trail that he could find. Despite the murders seeming random, George got the sense that it wasn't the case. Something told him that Dream, despite the gruesomeness of it all, had a goal in mind.

After many hours examining possible endgames that Dream potentially could be aiming for, George eventually concluded that there was one person that the blonde had a deep-rooted hatred for: Schlatt. And it seemed reasonable to assume that it was who he was going for.

After many hours of traveling, George found himself in a sketchy-looking cabin that (he hoped) was abandon. The reason for his current resting place was that he was in-between cities, and finding some place to stay had showed itself to be difficult.

The last victim recorded was just a few kilometers away. Somehow it looked like George was catching up on Dream, which was oddly disturbing. Dream was way more experienced getting around. So, it sort of felt like he was allowing to George get closer.

After a bland dinner, he finally observed his surrounding more in dept. It looked like a failed chemistry lab. That's when it hit him, it was a meth lab.

George got up and began searching the cabinets. They're filled with different liquids, metals, syringes and more.

An idea sparked in his head when he came across a bottle with potassium metal. His luck continued as he found the two other ingredients that he needed: Sodium metal and kerosine.

He began mixing the two metals together in the kerosine. A small smile spread across his face when desired effect was achieved: Sodium-potassium alloy.

He proceeded to divide the liquid metal into three test tubes that he sealed. Careful not to break the glass containers, he placed them in his bag. That's when he spotted another of his inventions, the Belladonna paste.

Loud voices interrupted his thought process. He swiftly turned to closest window. Shit. It was the same guys from the motel, plus two more.

They stood outside the door. George knew that he needed to escape. He was a biology major after all, not a fighter.

The motorcycle was placed on the opposite side of the house. Jumping out of the window crossed his mind, but they'd notice him once he started the vehicle. His brain was racing. It was just a matter of time before they'd enter the building.

With that insight, it was like survival instincts kicked in. He coated his knife with the belladonna and poured water on the floor. He'd barely managed to hide as the door got kicked in.

"Time to come out, little freak!" One of them shouted.

Though it was tempting to escape straight away, George knew that he had to stay calm. The four men got closer to his hiding spot.

Just one more meter.

They were destroying all the interior and shouting at him to surrender. But George refused to give up.

All four of them lastly stepped into the pool of water on the floor.

Perfect.

"What the fu– have you pissed yourself?" One of the shouted condescendingly. Although, the arrogant attitude disappeared once George threw the glass tube at the floor. The creation was highly reactive with water. So, as the capsule broke, fire and smoke erupted.

The intruder began screaming. George wasted no time. He heaved himself out the window and ran to the motorcycle.

Flames were now overtaking the house. Though his heart leaped as one of the men crawled out of the same window. George subconsciously tightened his grip around his poisonous knife. He got tackled to the ground, and before he knew it, another guy also joined the fight.

Just as they were about to tie his hands and feet, a moment or clarity struck, and George angled the knife so it slashed into one of the intruders neck. The man reached for his neck. The amount of blood was a sign that some bigger artery was injured. His companion stared in disbelief, which George used to his advantage and crawled away.

Normally he would've ran away at that point. But his mind was still set on survival mode. Therefore, he sprinted over to the non-injured man. The attack must've come as a surprise because the man didn't react until the poisonous blade dug into his lower arm.

Their screams echoed through the forest as George started the vehicle and left the brutal crime scene behind.

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Even as it began raining, George refused to stop. His body ached from exhaustion and the cold. His fingers had numbed minutes after the first raindrop and his hoodie and jeans were soaked, causing him to shiver uncontrivable.

Though the real issues happened when the shivers stopped. George knew enough to conclude that hypothermia was slowly overtaking his body. An unexplainable heat spread through his body as his mind got cloudy.

He spotted what seemed to be a distant village ahead of him. Due to his body's critical condition, his ability to make decisions wasn't as sharp as usually and that would come to be devastating.

Despite the clear signs of hypothermia, George kept driving. He needed to find shelter from both the cold and potential followers.

Confusion and sometimes even hallucination were consequences of moderate hypothermia. So, if what happened next was caused by hallucination or not, was up for debate.

The silhouette of a person appeared in front of him. Despite his slowed brain capacity, George managed to pull both the hand and foot brake just in time to not hit the person. However, George wasn't the most experienced driver, and the road was slippery from rain. So, the action caused the motorcycle to turn sideways, which then made it fall over.

His body hit the asphalt with the motorcycle crushing his leg. Both him and the bike must've continued sliding for a good 20 meters before it stopped. Pain shot up from his left leg and his head received a decent impact as he landed on the ground.

It was as if time slowed down. The world around him blurred. His eyelids grew heavy, and his body wouldn't move for the life of him. He felt how his conscious started slipping away and he embraced the darkness.

Although, just as he was about to pass out, a dark figure appeared. He was still unsure on what was real and not, but the person must've have removed the motorcycle from his leg and then picked him up.

Normally, such a thing would've caused a reaction. But George was too tired and welcomed the warmth from his body being pressed against someone else's.

"Don't worry, Georgie. You're safe now." The voice was low and oddly familiar, but George had no energy left to figure out who it could be. He only nodded before he fell unconscious.