Chapter 2: Chapter 2: The Entity
After many intoxicating drinks of beers and whiskey shots, and the outside forest sky morphing to an almost pitch black color, retaining a little deep blue as we all slowly become very dizzy and drunk. Laughing harder than little school girls at a male school festival. "Ok, so, premise of Hunt, is to catch other drunk friends and get 'this'." I drunkenly say, pointing at my wrist that has a strand of yarn tied around it, slurring a few words together, but making a definite attempt to speak clearly. "Now, I've tied one around each of you guy's wrists', so the Hunter, whoever that'll be, must count to the number of shots all of us have taken before attempting to find everyone else." I attempt to say with clarity, swapping a few words for drunken noodles of noise, but luckily, the other agree and remotely understand. "Once we all get captured or not, we will all reunite in the morning, here at the house. Agreed?" I tilt my head, setting my hand in the middle of all of our drunken selves. They all, surprisingly without any words, set their hand in the middle. "Ok, so, who here has taken the most shots?" I ask, knowing full well Michael has taken a lot, much more than me, either tied or slightly more than Alex has. Each of us argue over who has drank the most, most of us, with the exception of Michael agreeing that I had the least.
After the arguing died down, we all eventually came to the conclusion that Michael had drank somewhere over twenty shots. "Ok, Hunt time?" John asked me, giggling at the warmth on his cheeks. "Yes, Hunt time, John." I say, popping my neck and staggering to the back door. Turning to face my drunken friends and watching all off them watching me, is the utmost ridiculous and funny thing that simultaneously made my night. "Everyone ready? Mike will be the Hunter." They all nod and I open the sliding door to my back patio, as all my friend's eyes, including mine, adjust to the deep, pitch black, forest looming over us.
We wander in a relative straight line to the also relative middle of the forest, Alex and John jumping at all the small noises around us. Mike and I don't jump and press on until we can no longer see the lights from my large house. We all form a circle, before relaying the rules of Hunt. No running back to the house until dawn or getting caught, no murdering or permanently injuring anyone and no one will be together. Mike starts counting as we all scatter like a bad habit on New Year's Day. I make a break, sprinting directly away from Mike.
As his voice fades out, I slam into something. Certainly not a tree, it was almost like another person, a fabric feeling. I look up from the ground, starting at where the trunk of a tree would be and I see, of all things, dress shoes. I slowly move my eyes up, but halfway up the pant-leg, I blink, and it's just gone. As if it wasn't even there to begin with. I get up, realizing I have a bad cut on my right forearm. Luckily, my drunken state lessens the pain significantly. I stagger to my feet slowly, attempting to get the ground around me to stop wobbling. I hear feet moving toward my location, realizing that I'm still playing Hunt, I run, at a ninety degree angle from where I was. I hear the feet wander away, the further I run. I spot something amongst the trees, a white spot amongst the other dark brown trees. The blurry white spot resembles that of a notebook page, I walk towards it, curious, of what this strange object is. I wander and wobble towards it. My assumption was correct, it was a piece of paper, that of an almost child-like drawing. A forrest is roughly drawn, with a tall stick figure in the middle, and on the top, where the header would be, it states, "No Eyes" in a scribbled and messy handwriting.
My mind, still heavily intoxicated, attempts to make sense of the creepy note. My brain shuts down, giving up on deciphering the already blurry page, and begins folding it into fours and shoving it into my shorts. Almost as if it were timed, I hear Alex screaming from somewhere close. I hastily meander my was to the screams origin, only to find Mike's white shirt lightly coated in blood, and two bracelets. Before I can have a chance to comprehend the scene, my brain shuts down, from the alcohol and movement overload.
I wake up, the woods around me bright and lightly sunny with a heavy fog, the sun not being enough to break through the land-clounds. I scan myself, slowly standing. Other than some minor damage to my forearm and leg, nothing really happened to me. I still had my bracelet, proving me to be the victor of the Hunt, as long as there is no one else with their bracelets. I look at my feet through the heavy fog, viewing what I missed the night prior. This was definitely Mike's shirt, but it wasn't blood, like I previously suspected. It was purely mud, similar to the consistency of swamp mud. Yet, there was no water source for miles. How far did all of us run? I pick up the shirt, folding it, followed by putting the decently clean side down over my shoulder, and within my first two steps, my liver and hangover are both more than upset with me. I squint through the fog, seeing the outline of my house far in the distance. "I know which direction I'm walking, however, I should probably check for my friends." I tell myself, as I grab a rock and carve a rugged arrow in the direction of my house into a nearby tree. Time to find my friends.
I begin walking slightly deeper into the forest, attempting to see through the thickness of the fog. I spot a blue blur of something on the ground. I walk over, the closer and closer I get, the more human being outline becomes clearer on it. It's Alex. I kneel next to his upper chest, scanning him. Nothing note-worthy, other than minor scraps and scratches. Grabbing his leg, I tuck and roll over him, pulling him over me, like a military soldier with another injured soldier. Except, we aren't soldiers, were grown men, with awful hangovers and we're trying to get back to my house for safety. Luckily, he's out completely, making my job a lot easier. I eventually slowly walk my way back to my house after an hour of walking. I chuck Alex onto the couch, readjusting him to be comfy, and throwing a blanket on to him. I throw Mike's stained shirt at the base of the counter, before writing a quick list of how to make a hangover blaster concoction, just in case Alex wakes while I'm trying to find the others.
One down, two to go. I walk outside, noticing a blood drip leading from the forest to my house, I instantly turn around, looking inside, to see something absolutely horrifying. An extremely tall and lengthy man, in a black business suit, with tenticles spewing out of his back, spurring like an octopus accompanied by a completely white and blank face, lacking any features, standing directly above Alex in the living room. As soon as I blink, he vanishes, but by the time my scream leaves my vocal cords, they clench, silencing me. I look down to see a blood trail leading to a small pool where he was looming over Alex. I run into the woods, to find my friends because there is strength in numbers. I need to make sure my friends are okay and aren't dead from that tall man.
I rush though the very thick fog. Consistently regaining my balance after tripping on tree stumps and roots, flicking my head side to side to try and pick up any indication of color to see my friends. I slow to a heavy jog, when I spot Mike. I can easily tell, due to his lack of shirt. I walk over to his knocked out body, when I notice something more horrifying than what happened inside my house earlier. John was next to him, with knife slashes though his shirt, dried blood caking his upper chest. I quickly check his pulse and his breathing and both are completely fine. I suddenly realize, he was attempting to escape Mike. I instantly spot a military knife in Michael's hand. I quickly remove it, lodging it deep into a nearby tree. John's hand was on a neighboring tree to the one with the knife in it, I look up it, and I spot another crude drawing. It seems to resemble the other page I have. Except, it has a closer image of the figure from the one I have, with no words on it. I fold it up, putting it in my pocket, feeling the other page as I slide it in. I give John a hug and throw him and Mike over my each of my shoulders. This is going to mess up my lower back, but, I'm helping my knocked out friends. I wander back to my house, in a surprisingly shorter amount of time, than with Alex, under thirty minutes.
I throw Mike on to the carpeted floor and the wounded John on his belly on my other couch. I slide the back door shut, looking out into the forest one last time. I almost spot something moving amongst the tall trees and before I can force myself to look harder, I shut the blinds. I take off John's shirt, to inspect the wounds and get minor medical treatment. I instantly recognize that most don't go very deep, cutting only deep enough to draw blood. I carefully run my fingers down each one, to get an understanding of what I missed with these two. They've already scabbed over, but they could always use some medical wrap, so I get up and head towards my bedroom. I take the two crude pages out of my pocket, unfolding them and laying them on my bed, before heading to the bathroom. I look in the mirror to catch a glimpse of the tall man behind me. I spin with great speed, to nothing but my shower curtain. Slightly paranoid, I open it, to nothing but an empty shower. I look back at the mirror, now showing nothing but my own reflection. I open the bathroom closet, grabbing extra large medical wrap. I close the door, holding the wrap under my arm. I start back to the living room, but something catches my eye. The pages. They're missing from my bed. I turn to face the door, as I glance at the wall, jumping, and dropping the wrap, when I realize that they are pinned against the wall using the Mike's knife from the woods, along with another page, stating, "Interesting, isn't it?" I stare at it, bewildered.
I pick up the wrap from the floor, and start my way back to the living room. I walk out of the hallway and stop dead in my tracks by what I see. The tall man is sitting on Alex, his legs crossed, looking directly back at me, with his featureless face. The more I stare into his white, blank face, the more my heart sinks, deeper and deeper. I try to move while keeping my eyes open, but the instant I moved my leg muscle, I blinked subconsciously, and he vanished into thin air. I rush over to Alex, dropping the medical wrap near John on the couch, seeing if anything had happened to him. Nothing, or at least not that I can see. I sneeze, as Alex wakes up, confused and dazed, "What happened? Who won?" He is almost just as confused about the Hunt as I am about that tall figure.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone