“What do I get?” You groaned. “What do I get, from telling you where she is?”
The mask looked up at you, it’s taunting grin splattered red and glinting in the moonlight.
“I-” Frank stuttered, and stood back up to paw at his clothes, and finally pulled a pack of smokes out of his leather jacket.
“Kitty.” He grunted, noticeably tired from his own hellishly long chase. Katarina grimaced at the name but didn’t do anything more than glare back at him. His hair laced his face like thick black vines, dirt smudging into his pores as he wiped away sweat.
The generator blared to life, and you barely took a step before feeling an overwhelming wave of dread wash over you. Like your insides were exposed even while they were all still under your skin.
You hadn’t seen him in time.
She dances and he consumes.