Impulsive

Trail

(Chapter summary: Arthur accidentally left a trail leading straight to him.)

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  Arthur had been missing for two months exactly. Graham was sad, everyone was but Graham seamed to the the most. Everyone had a piece taken out of them. Arthur was paranoid, always checking his back for Wellies; his energy was being drained because of it. He had gotten food poisoning a number of times, sickup tea was his best friend. The tea made him throw up, getting rid of the food poisoning, but also emptying his stomach in the process. He had to keep his chunky stew he got from the cook fresh, same with all of the other non-rotting foods. Arthur was starting to regret his decision, leaving Fran, Graham, and Watts, for fucks sake even Rabossan.

“Will he come back?” Graham ran a hand down his face.

 
“I don’t know.” Fran sighed and locked his hands behind his neck, stretching.

“You said he said that he wanted to go back to the Garden District, right?” Rabossan decided to help about two weeks ago, despite him hating Arthur, he hated seeing his friends like this more.

“Yeah,” Fran answered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Let's look there.”

Watts replied, “we already did!”

“He could have seen you, we need ripped clothing and no masks. We need to blend in.” Rabossan grabbed some scissors and took an article of clothing out of his suitcase, starting to rip it. “Hurry.
 

The others did the same, after that was done, they tucked it under their arms. Nodding to each other.

“Now we can check houses without seaming… strange.” Rabossan walked outside and faced the broken window that Arthur got out of, he picked a pice up and showed everyone else.  Blood coated the edge. “He left a trail.”

It was a silent walk, Rabossan had to focus on following Arthur’s blood and everyone else was stuck in their own heads. Was Arthur even alive? Why did he run? Does Arthur hate them? What if-

“Oi, look.” Rabossan pointed to a splotch of blood on the rock.

Watts breathed out, “Arthur, what in God’s name have you done now?”

First Graham jumped up, he crouched down and held out a hand, halling Rabossan, Watts, and Fran up.

“You need to cut down on the sweets, Fran,” he chuckled. More blood was on the rock, a swipe of a bloody handprint and that splotch, it looked so much bigger than it did before.
 

“Oh my,” Watts whispered as his eyes trailed up the rock wall. “How the fuck did he make it?”

“Maybe adrenalin,” Rabossan answered, hopping up and continuing to climb; the others followed.

Once they made it to the top, they looked around. People were a bit aways from them, so they stripped and slid of their ripped clothing. It made them (Watts, Fran, and Graham) uneasy to take off their masks, it felt weird. Not wrong, but weird.

(Fuckin' fuck fuck. If you can't tell I'm stressed out to ALL HELL right now, fuckin' school. Fuckin' anxiety. Fuckin' stress. Fuckin' insomnia.)