Camp Murder (Inanimate Insanity)

Chapter 14 - Blob

Fan felt a heavy pressure on his back. He let out a strangled cry of shock upon realising that he'd been knocked from his standing position and was now curled up on the bathroom floor.

The door, busted straight from it's hinges (which wasn't unlikely for such a decaying place) was laying on his back. He couldn't move - the wood was hooked beneath the sink, keeping him trapped like an animal in a cage.

"What the hell?!" Fan cried, pain
surging down his back. Panicked voices erupted around him as hands desperately tried to de-wedge the door.
"W-wait! My pants are down..." he muttered, attempting to pull them up despite the foetal position. He hadn't noticed the faintness in his voice.

"A-Apple, oh my marsh, open your eyes please!"
"I told you not to let her get out of bed!"
"She still has a pulse."
"Can somebody get Test Tube?"
"Where's Fan?!"

The redhead beneath the door grew erratic, his panic so intense that the words couldn't escape his mouth. Man, he wished he had that paper bag.

'Breathe, Fan.'

In, and out.
In, and out.
In...

"SHE'S BLEEDING!"

Panic.

Fan pulled together the last of his energy and screamed, making the others aware of his presence.
"Baseball, Knife - take her to the dorm! Marshmallow and Suitcase: help me lift the door!"

Footsteps echoed through the house, the wood shaking beneath Fan's body. Voices grew distant and surroundings blurred into one - he was losing himself.
That was, until the weight left his shoulders. The door was thrown aside as arms pulled Fan up and wrapped around him - Paintbrush's arms.

"What's going on?!" He pushed away from them forcibly, almost tumbling backwards.
Suitcase pressed her sides up against him. W-whilst you w-were using the bathroom we...took a b-break from investigating... The others trusted me to watch Apple b-but I stupidly l-let her out of bed and she fell down the s-stairs, and crashed through the bathroom door. I-I'm so sorry, Fan! I put you both in danger!"

The other rendered speechless. He looked at Paintbrush and Marshmallow. Paintbrush was sweating buckets, their brow knitted and their eyes dark. Marshmallow, on the other hand, had fresh tears on her cheeks. Her thick white hair frizzed wildly around her face.

"And Apple? She's fine, right?" Fan spluttered.

'Not like she was much of a fan favorite.'

"I don't know." Paintbrush admitted with a solemness in their voice that both terrified and exhilarated fan.
"Are you fine?"
Blood seeped through the fabric on Fan's left arm. Whether it was from the door or something else, he didn't know, but it stung like hell.
"O-oh...yeah... I just need to lay down."

The four of them left the hut in silence, Fan trailing behind. That place was nothing but bad luck, he thought. The midday sun was covered by thick clouds, greying the surroundings. Drizzle spilled from the gutter of the hut and pooled at their feet.
As he traversed through the trees, much to his bewilderment, Fan thought he saw something yellow.

Fan broke away from the rest, unnoticed. To the side of the path was a tree stump - it was damp with condensation and dripped with moss. He grabbed a yellow sheet of notebook paper off from it.

'If you're reading this, you're well aware of what I'm capable of.
It is in your interest that I tell you: this is not for a sick personal gain, but instead for the safety of the contestants.
If you're wondering why I couldn't take them out quick and simple, well... The show needs revenue.
Revenue means money, money means more show, and more show - you guessed it - means even more money. It's quite the cycle.
Plus... Wouldn't it be simply boring for the viewers had I just taken them out silently?
Do you agree? You must.
You must also keep this note a secret. If you do I shall be inclined to send more.
Kindest regards, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~'