The outrun

TW: mentions of death, violence and murder.

The entire cabin had been blanketed by an absolute silence that bordered on ethereal save for the rising sound of a shrill whistle that served as the only means to validate the uneasy air that lingered over the decrepit building. 

The whistling grew louder as the seconds passed by, going from a soft tune that pulled her to sleep, to a loud, high-pitched screech which warned her that leaving the kettle by the fire any longer would result in the inability to enjoy a cup of tea due to the unbearable heat. 

Before the noise kept going any longer, a young woman with curly aubry hair rushed towards the oven, quickly turning the dial until the entrancing blue flame had been completely extinguished, finally putting a stop to the incessant whistling before it had a chance of getting on her nerves. After all, the last thing she needed were more reasons that would inevitably push her into a full-blown panic attack, especially after barely getting out unscathed from the Buck Creek massacre.

As she prepared her drink in a vain attempt to ease her nerves, her mind wandered off to how everything led up to that moment. She can't recall who it had been that came up with the whole idea during one of their many hangouts, but she does remember with picture perfect clarity how their eyes shone with anticipation as soon as the spoils that would await them if they succeed at this crazed plan. 

If everything went just right they would have made it big time, skyrocketing them into the big leagues in just one night. Only problem was that everything had fallen apart frustratingly quick the moment bodies started to pile up.

The young woman's eyes slowly drifted downwards to the now lukewarm cup of tea in her hands, its contents still untouched. There was simply too much in her mind to really focus, too many thoughts of what could have been done differently, of what she could have done herself in those stressful moments when hell broke loose during the rager. 

It seemed that no matter what she did, she would always find herself back in that damned campsite, skin baked in dirt and blood, and no amount of pondering would ever right the wrongs of that night. 

Finally, she had been saved from her own treacherous thoughts at the sound of frantic honking coming outside the cabin, stirring up all sorts of life into a fight or flight state, including her.

Eyeing the gas canisters waringly, the woman took a moment to steel her heart for what had to be done as soon as everything was loaded into the truck, making sure to savor the scenery before her before it went up in flames and became nothing more than a memory. Despite knowing the risks, that everything came at a price, not a single one of them considered any of them until one of theirs was killed just so they could escape the boney grasp of fate.

'Hopefully that would be the last sacrifice they would have to make.' She thought bitterly, picking up a few of the bags she had previously set up near the front door. Surely Jesse would be stressed out of his mind with how long she had taken to come outside, but she knew that if it was him in her shoes, he would have done the same.

The rumbling engine seemed so powerful against the quiet tranquility of the woods, making the air itself tremble the closer she got to the truck.

With each step taken, the woman grumbled to herself at the lack of assistance from Chris, who she knew for a fact that he was watching her struggle with the duffle bags, and on that note, she shifted into a somewhat comfortable position just to flip him off. However, whatever amusement that might have arisen in her quickly faded just a few feet away from the vehicle.

It was common knowledge between all of them that Jesse took very poor care of his car, which lent itself to letting him in charge of transport and getaways, so finding dents, scratches, or even mirrors being held up by an excessive amount of adhesive tape. All of that was certain to earn them a few curious glances but it would never go further than that,  so to see the front window shattered set her off completely. 

Something about that singular detail had such an impact on her that an immobilizing coldness started to slowly creep up her entire body, allowing for panic and fear to make themselves at home in her heart.

As she neared the truck, her heart pounded loudly in her ears as her mind blared a thousand warnings telling her to run, she felt a cold shiver envelop her as soon as the all too familiar form of Jesse behind the steering wheel came into view. 

It felt like an eternity watching her friend helplessly bleed out his life while still struggling to free his taped hands from the wheel in an attempt to cover the gashing wound while in reality only a few seconds truly passed by before her mind forced her body to instinctively find shelter inside the cabin at the prospect of an unseen threat.

Whoever, whatever, was out there, had killed Jesse a few feet away from her in the amount of time she was making peace with herself, and something told her that it had its eyes set on her. 

Turning her eyes towards the remaining duffle bags beside the main door the woman quickly opened each and everyone of them in search for something to defend f with, herself, yet all she found in between clothes, pictures and disguises was despair as the slow realization that all their weapons had been packed in the bags she had dropped in her panic outside the cabin dawned on her. 

Hot tears began to stream down her face as she threw and kicked in frustration the bags, the image of Jesse’s dead body tauntingly playing in repeat in her mind. A fate her mind seemed to accept oh so easily despite her. 

Remembering her phone, a sliver of hope managed to push back the dark thoughts of a gruesome demise for the moment as she dialed up her group chat in hopes that either Sidney or Tommy, now effectively the only surviving members of their group, would pick up and come rushing to her aid. But as she waited with bated breath for that miraculous moment, she was only met with endless melodic ringing on the other side that grew longer and longer until finally leaving her in deafening silence at the lack of any answer.

"Come on… come on! Pick up!"

Her words could barely be heard in between each sob, yet there was no one else but her to hear them. Again and again, all she would ever hear at the other end was dead silence.

Suddenly, as if by some miracle intervention,  her phone started vibrating in her hand. And without even a glance at the caller ID, she answered hoping that salvation itself was on the other end.

"Oh thank God, there is someone outside the cabin! The killed Jes-"

"You confuse me…" A deep voice sighed on the other end, whatever emotion driving them hidden behind the slight static distortion of the phone, yet she somehow felt it had to be restrained rage. “You were just so obsessed with the blood, the screams, and death on the big screen that you just had to feel the weight of a knife in your hands. So you made sure to plan that big night, hoping to make it big like your favorite slashers, but nothing went as planned now did it, Laurie?”

“Who the hell are you?!” There was a pause on the other end, but Laurie didn’t know if it was worse not to hear a thing from this stalker or to hear every little noise he made. 

“Why ask me something you already know?” The voice laughed, not a manic, twisted laugh, but a tired one. “No, the real question here is, how long have I been inside the cabin?”

And just with eight words, true horror set itself upon her. Now every single corner and shadow seemed to house a killer waiting to pounce out and kill her, every little noise seemed to be made by the fall of heavy footsteps or the taunting creaking of wood beaconing her towards his eager blade.

Stress kept on building inside of her, driving her near the brink of madness, until her reasoning and survival instinct had completely assimilated to that of a cornered rat. “Go to hell, you asshole!” Laurie roared into the phone, hot spit flying out with each word in her blind rage like poison. “Think I’m afraid of you? How about you show your face so I can bash it the fuck in!”

“Then for your sake, you better hope you fare better as the survivor than you did as the slasher. Unless you want to end like poor Andy, gutted like a fish.” The call was quickly ended after that, leaving Laurie in complete isolation once more. Yet where it had once been melancholic and meditative, it has now become dreadful and heavy. 

Whoever this unseen killer was he had an awful lot of insight into who they were, and especially about that night in Buck Creek. Yet, even with all of that, his identity was the least of her worries, all she cared for in that moment was to kill him, and with any luck she would do just that before the day was through.

Quickly remembering the moments prior to discovering Jesse taped to his truck, Laurie tried to guess the distance of the closest bag filled with weapons she could defend herself with, running the same scenario in her mind over and over again to ensure she would be fast enough to reach it, never once taking her eyes away from any possible hiding place. 

Finally, she had felt contempt with each outcome, confident that her speed and reaction time would be enough to ensure her survival, now all she had to do was wait for that opening that would set everything into motion.

So Laurie waited for what could have been hours, readying herself to react properly to her opponent’s first move. The slight creak of the floorboard in one of the distant rooms was all she needed to jump into action. Instinct overwhelmed rationality, leaving only the desire to survive at the forefront. 

Nothing else seemed to matter in those brief moments in which Laurie made a run for the bags, not whatever was behind her, not the splinters burrowing into the palms of her hand as she sprinted to the door, nor the painful beating of her heart against her chest. Everything had faded into darkness, leaving only what was in front of her in focus. 

Laurie’s hand shot out to the door, blood and dust gathering under her nails as it crashed with the decaying wood. The turning of a doorknob had never felt so eternal, despite the adrenaline flowing through her veins, the action seemed lethargic and stupid. 

Her hand tightly holds the doorknob. A chill runs down her spine as another creak could be heard, closer now.  The sweat in her palm made it impossible to turn the knob without it awkwardly sliding off of it despite the rough finish of the metal. The hairs at the back of her neck standing up as she swears someone breathes down her neck. Finally, Laurie managed to get a firm grip on the doorknob, a wave of relief washing down on her as she pulled and sunlight began trickling through the cracks.

With the escape of her nightmare so close to her, confidence soothed her nerves as she swung the door wide open, her legs already taking up a running start, yet she never ran. Without any explanation her body had been frozen in place, all willingness to fight just drained from her. Laurie was utterly befuddled but spared not a second to think of it, still trying to move forward despite the exertion chipping away at her. Then she felt it, a sharp pain in her abdomen that forced her breath out in a horrified and pained gasp. 

The world around her slowly started coming back into view, its color and life returning as hers were being taken away, except for a black mass standing before Laurie. She couldn’t make out a proper figure in her dazed state, be it face or body, but what she did notice was the large, bloodied knife gleaming in the afternoon sun in their hand.

Another stab sent an electric shock across her body, bringing her down to her knees as the realization of what was happening finally began to register in her mind. 

Laurie tried to scream, to plead for her life, but nothing other than pitiful whimpers managed to escape her mouth. Instead, with what little strength that still remained in her, Laurie tried throwing the bags at her attacker in hopes of slowing him down despite knowing that would be of no use. 

Just as she was about to throw the last bag she had been restrained in her vain attempts of crawling away, her arms pinned to the floor while her stomach was crushed under a heavy weight, the fresh wounds burning up as the force solely focused around that area. Now all she could focus on was the cloaked figure over her, a twisted grimacing white mask and a knife being held just over where her heart would be being the only details that stood out to her. Yet as she waited for the serrated blade to enter her flesh one final time, she was confused when the killing blow never came.

Despite his mask, the man seemed to be debating with himself over what would happen next. He'd kill her, that much was obvious, but whatever happened before she drew her last breath seemed to be what bothered him the most until he finally made up his mind. Panic started to rise in her as the masked man shifted his hold on her, placing the blade up to her wrists, yet panic quickly turned into uncertain anticipation as his now free hand reached up to their mask.

Laurie wondered if she had bled out enough to start hallucinating as she gazed at the face beneath the mask, unable to believe what she was seeing. Whatever it was she expected to see behind the grimacing mask, it surely wasn’t what she got. However, it was the one that made the most sense considering all the events that lead up to that moment.

The irony of the reveal was too much not to enjoy, even in the receiving end of a knife. The twist was simply sublime, right up there with the greats of all time. Whatever anger, or fear Laurie might have felt before was now all washed away by the feeling of honour that overcame her by being one of the kills of a monster just like her heroes. And as she faced death, all she did was smile with excitement.

She kept smiling even as the knife was pushed right into her heart, laughing weakly until she'd wasted all her breath. She continued to smile even as she became brutalized with more savage stabs across her body, her muscles still managing to keep it despite the bloodloss. For could she not express her delight in knowing she had been part in the creation of a killer like no other. 

He had been right. They had failed to be more than what they desired because they were nothing more than the stepping stones to something greater. Like Pamela was to Jason, they were just a tease of the nightmare to come.