Exorcise him! // Craig x Tweek // (Creek)

★ 4 | Who Are You!? ★

Alright so...let's...do this

I take a deep shallow breath in and swallow the overwhelming anxiety that consumes my throat. I take a step forward and my shoes are the only things that click in the vast of the night.

It's 1 am, clearly nobody's awake at this time.
Alright well, most people aren't awake.

And when I mean people, I mean the people around my apartment. I don't really care if anybody saw me drive out here so late, but that little thought at the back of my head stays put. Little scary, but I know nobodys gonna give a fuck about what you do at this time.

And as long as nobody's following me then, well I'm good.

I'm just glad to find out that the Tweaks live decently far away from people.

Which of course doesn't help with the fact that my car has been suspiciously parked right beside the road.

But again, people wouldn't care, so I throw the thought out of mind and fold my hands into fists. I came here for a reason, and I'm sick of backing out.

I'm careful, avoiding puddles and murky shallow ponds of grass, stepping on only the dry areas of grass. When I come a little closer to the house, I give it a good glance. Pretty neat if you tell me, but the paint outside is starting to chip, the pillars crack and the grass is starting to reach the edges of the windows. Obviously the poor thing looks pretty abandoned, the original plum color has faded into a light touch of gray and pink.

Almost makes me feel a little bad for the thing, I heard a thing or two of what happened here. But I couldn't imagine that something so drastic could ever happen in something so...pretty.

At the end of the day, it's not my problem.
I walk up the steps carefully, the wooden planks below me scream and wail, so I keep my steps straight and simple. As long as I don't jump, or do whatever fucking activity that's going to crack these old steps, I'll be OK.

Then it faces me, the only thing holding me back from walking inside. The lock, a little rusty from its lack of use. Softly I pull out the weighty gray key from my pockets and pull it into the lock, push it in and twist it. Then when it doesn't budge, I put my hand on the door handle and twist it.

It cracks, but it doesn't twist. This is a joke right? I grin and push a little harder, but it doesn't budge. I feel humiliated a little.

Alrighty! So the thing is really freaking rusty, I huff, thinking about it for a second or two. But I know what to do, I've broken into my house a couple of times after my sister Tricia forgot to leave the door open for me at night. All you have to do is give it a little push. The locks here are made of shitty material anyway. This time, I focus on my breathing and position my shoulder up against the door. In three I'll jump and throw my body against it.

But when I count to 3, things don't...really turn out as planned. I close my eyes and throw my shoulder against the door, it's loud, and a strong crack can be heard from both ends of the door. It opens, but it's brisk.

The sudden familiar feeling of the door resting on my shoulder can't be felt anymore, and I open my eyes out of spite. I'm falling, I'M FALLING.

"AH!?" I yell, but it doesn't do anything, the minute the door slams against the wall, is the minute I fall down on my shoulder roughly. The pain bites at my skin and I can feel every pebble carve at my arm. Etch it's dents into my skin brutally. I can't taste it, but I can definitely feel the puddles of blood rise from my wounds, a couple the size of paper cuts.

The room echoes with the aftermath of the slam, the place rumbles and within seconds I find myself face to face with the floor.

Ah?? Fuck!?