~ To love, is to rot. ~
CH. 1
6.37k words.
Cross posted to my ao3 @ Hysterical__27
"Hey, baby!" Mia's voice chirped out from the screen. The sounds of water sloshing against the boat she was on filling the silence as she came into frame, waving. Smiling.
"Just wanted to send a quick 'Hello!' and 'I love you'-" she immediately cuts herself off, her expression filling with that excitement she only got once a year. "Oh! Good news! I'm gonna be coming home soon! Yay!" She clapped her hands, before looking at what was her left with this slight expression of disgust. She looked back at the screen. Leaning forward. "I cannot wait to be done with this babysitting job—" she pauses for what was half a second, looking to her left again. "And come home to my loving husband." Her face softens alongside her tone as she says "I miss you."
She leans back to how she sat up at the start of the video looking to her left one final time. "I gotta get back to work." She looks back at the screen. "I love you, Ethan. I miss you so much." she clasps her hands together. "I'm sending tons of kisses" she kisses the air at the camera, a faint 'mwah' slipping out of her before she waved with both her hands. "Bye baby!" and the video ended.
It zooms out, revealing a computer screen. Mold stained hands claw at the keyboard and screen. As they shuffle the small mouse to the camera. Revealing Mia's face. She seems frozen in a half wince and half face of terror. "Ethan.." she sighs out "You were right, I did lie to you-" she was shaking her head. "I shouldn't have but-" she inhales a deep breath. Shutting her eyes for a second. Her mouth opening and shutting like a fish out of water as she tries to find the words.
"All I can say is that if you get this.." the screen goes black. "Stay. Away."
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A 1970's dodge challenger, painted white, parts the beige green plains of what seemed to be a more remote area. A phone ringing before a voice rung out. "Hello?" he clears his throat "Its uh.. Its Ethan." A voice on the other end of the phone, more boyish than the earlier one speaks. "Oh hey, you alright? You just disappeared the other night." Ethan hesitates to answer for a millisecond. "Yeah, yeah. No, I'm good, I'm good. It's Mia." he says the words a bit too quickly. His voice slowing and softening at the sound of the name Mia. Like the taste of the identity on his tongue was something he was reverent of.
"She's not dead, she's alive." he stutters on the air for a second "She's back." The voice on the phone pauses. "They found her? How? What happened?" Ethan was quick to respond. "I don't know. I don't know how, but she's back, she's back somehow." the car turns down a road, tree's beginning to cusp the sides of the street rather than the plush grass of the plains. "Maybe it's a prank. She wants me to come and get her." the phone crackles to life again as the guy on the other end chimes in again. "Where is she?" Ethan turns the street again.
"Dulvey. Dulvey, Lousiana," he said the words as if they were fragile. "Dude, it's been three years." the guy on the other phone said it in a way that tried to get through to whatever tiny sliver in Ethan recognized how odd this was. I mean, Mia had been gone 3 YEARS. With minimal contact to him. "I know, I know. But what if it is her? I have to find out what happened." Ethan said it like it was obvious. As if Mia, who was in an undisclosed area, would randomly appear in some socially depleted town of Louisiana.
Ethan hung up the call. Driving through a thick area of woods and underbrush that almost crawled its way into the street. He ends up parking near the area Mia gave him. He would've driven more towards the area if it weren't from a tree blocking the way. But, he was flexible.
He shuts and locks his car behind him. The whurr of the engine purring into silence as he dusts off his dress shirt and grabs the letter Mia gave him. "Oh, Mia.." he sighs it quietly to himself, reading it all over again. "I hope you're alright." he gently ran his finger over the picture of her bright smile before putting it away again.
He begins walking the trail. He heavily sighed, slapping away bugs that buzzed near his face. Careful as to not trip over himself as he did so. "Should've brought bug spray.." he huffed quietly. He keeps his gaze on the silhouette of the Baker household as he neared.
He approaches the black gate. Gently pressing one hand to the cool metal as his other hand fidgeted to try and get it open. When one hand failed, he tried both. Looking down he finally saw the chain that was stopping him. Because of COURSE his luck had to make this harder.
"Fuck.." he huffed out. Backing up. Looking to the other path. He tried to keep himself tethered to the moment and not the worry for Mia he had pumping through his heart. I mean..if that gate was chained up..and Mia told him to come..What if she was in danger?
His feet fall to a stop once he saw what looked to be a van in front of him. It seemed beat up. "What the.." he steps closer. Checking out the old thing. He looks inside the empty coolers, and circled the car for even a whisper of recent human life attached to it. None. He was about to give up when he noticed it was unlocked. His hand grasps the door, gently sliding it to open the van. Dust and dirt puffing into circulation again at the motion.
He picks up an old project proposal. Coughing as the dust pulsed off it with the fluidity of him pulling it towards him. "Sewer Gators..Ep.17." he hummed. "Sneak into a Louisiana Ghost House" he turns it in his hands, the quick paced writing of 'JOIN US' on the back. He chuckles to himself as he sets it back down. "Mia, is this a prank?" he hummed, the words velvet. Turning to the gate that seemed tore open. He walked towards it, ready to continue his search for Mia. But he couldn't help but wince at the sign. Wood held up onto the fence with barbed wire. Red words that read 'ACCEPT HER GIFT' the words at some points faded from the sun.
He just hurried past it. Slapping at bugs that kept trying to bite and buzz at him once more. Walking into an area thick with weeds and other underbrush. He froze in his steps for a second at the sight of a mans silhouette walking past him at around 10 feet away. He tries to follow, Careful as to not get too close to the edge of the dirt. Fearful of even the slightest chance of slipping into the murky water of the bayou. He turns into another area thick with forest. A crow flying beside him before landing on the bones of a deer. He walks over before the crows kaw loudly. Ethan braces, holding his arms out in front of his head as the birds fly away close to his head. He turns around, trying to see where the crows went. The sight that met him instead made his stomach twist in horror. Some kind of bulls head and multiple cattle arms held up by ropes.
"Mia, you better be here." he says it mostly to the universe, as if cursing the world that if Mia wasn't here, this wouldn't ever be worth it to him. He crouched down. Crawling under the ropes that held up the rotting cow amalgamation. He picks up his pace after. Running. He grew not to care for the small puddles that splashed onto his dress shoes, trying to focus on getting to Mia instead of the crow corpses that decorated the dirt on the halfway mark of the trail.
He huffs in and out gasps of breath after jumping down the trail onto the lower ground of the house it seemed. He dusted off his shirt as he walked towards the orange of a purse. He crouched down. Digging through it. "There better be a key or something in here.." he grumbled to himself. But he felt his breath and hands still when he instead found Mia's ID. "Mia.." he said it with a wince at the state of it. He stands back up. Trashing the purse back into the rocks it was originally lodged up in, and pocketing the ID for hope she was truly here.
He turned the corner left. Sighing in relief when he saw the run down wooden home. He passed by the garden bench swing. Walking onto the rotten wood of the porch, passing by miscellaneous objects before entering the wide open door. He turns on a flashlight he brought, looking around the room. It looked like a tornado hit the place..
He intakes a harsh breath in before gently opening the door to the next room up. A long hallway stood in front of him, a cabinet that was taped shut with bright a bright yellow. Even chained shut. He reaches out a hand, gently pretending to open it up. The chains chime against each other with the motion. Causing a silent huff to exude from him. He turns to his right, walking into a kitchen.
There was a slight solace of peace in how the light cascaded from the outside through wickedly messed up or twisted blinds. Especially as it helped light the room without him having to waste flashlight battery. He walks to the counter, trying to turn on the sink to see if there was even any water here. Sighing when the pipes sputtered and nothing came out. He turned his attention to the nearby pot. Gently lifting it up. Gagging at the amalgamation of flesh and cartilage in there that rotted green and molded. Cockroaches scrambling to leave the pot, even crawling up his arm. Causing him to quickly flick it off with his other hand. Clanging the pot shut once more. "Aw fuck- FUCK!" he yells as the cockroach lands on its back onto the table wood before skittering elsewhere.
He walks to the other side of the table. Picking up the fairly new looking newspaper. The title reading '20 Missing in 2 Years' causing him to set it down carefully. A thoughtful hum coming from him as he walked to the microwave. Immediately shutting it at the sight of a crow burnt to coal almost inside. "Gross.." he groans. Walking out of the dining room into the hallway. He trudges up the stairs, realizing the button to turn on the attic stairs. He quickly walks over, pressing his hand into it. Great. No power. Which meant he'd have to do a puzzle to even turn on the power. He turns to the nearby table. Picking up an old tape. 'Derelict House Footage'. Maybe this could give him some more insight on this disgusting place. He sighs heavily, turning on his heel as he hurried down the stairs. The soft clicks of his dress hills against rotting wood too loud for him at the moment.
He continues down the hall this time. Even peeking into the small storage area behind the stairs before entering the room to its left. Spotting a constellation of askewed polaroids. The stench of sweetness and rot assaulting his nose as he bent down and picked one up. Jesus..Mia looked sickly in them. It even showed him what looked like a cell. He shook it off. Walking to the nearby piano, but when his hand neared it slammed shut. Earning a deeper frown to etch onto his face as he finally neared the TV and inserted the tape.
The screen lights up with the face of a man who gets up into the camera. He looked put together. A suit, well groomed hair and beard. "Boo!" the man yells. Before walking towards a lanky dude. One dressed more regularly. The man in the suit splays his arms out in a dramatic motion as he questions the lanky man "Where did you find this guy?" the camera tilts downward, facing the two mens feet as they speak "Give me a break, Pete." The other man scolds. "Hey! I only work with professionals." Pete said irritated "Speaking of which, make sure the sound is right this time." The other man fixes his tie for him. "I don't want a repeat of Amarillo." Pete begins walking away. "That was two fucking years ago." the other man says frustrated
Pete turns back and stops in his tracks for a second "I don't do ADR." he states simply before continuing to hurry along. The other man sighs, motioning for whoever was holding the camera to follow as he walked behind Pete. "This new guy? I'm not feeling it." Peter says as he matches the other mans pace. "Again?" the other guy says exhausted. Pete brushes it off "Just don't be surprised if we have to make a change."
Pete stands stop the rickedy wooden steps. "New plan." he hums "We do a walkthrough of the inside first, then we shoot the intro." he points towards the other man "Just like we always do." The other man sighs as Pete starts walking to the door "Just try to say the show's name this time, OK?" Pete pauses in his tracks for a second "No problem." he hums. Putting the flashlight under his face, highlighting the shadows of his features. "Tonight on Sewer Gators, another worthless fucking shithole." he says it theatrically before lowering the flashlight "Happy?" he hums sarcastically
"Ecstatic," The other man replies. Throwing up his hands before trailing behind Pete to the door. The camera man never fails to remain close by. Even as Pete turns to the other man and sighs out "Are we rolling?" to receiving a nod from the other man. "Alright, let's go."
Pete's hands clasp the doorknob. Trying to force it open before the other guy gently pushes him away "Get outta the way." he says exasperated trying to get it open himself. Earning an irritated "Its locked." from Pete, before he kicked it open. Pete quickly shuffles in. The other guy looks at us and motions to the door "After you."
The camera man follows tightly behind. As the other man stands to Pete's side "So, why are we in hell this time?" he sighs "Do you ever prep?" earning a quick irritated glare from Pete. "What's to prep? Shitty house. Spooky sounds." the door in front of him makes a small click sound as he pushes it open. "Ooh, is it haunted?" he says sarcastically. As he walks the hallway he turns towards the other man before ranting.
"Fuck me. I was an anchor, you know." Pete puffs out. "Weekend sub, Pete. Not anchor." the guy corrects. "Whats that?" he says harshly, the other guy sighs. Continuing to look around. "Nothing."
"What's the story, Andre?" Pete asks the other man. Andre, so that was his name. "Abandoned farm house. Missing family. Foul play suspected." Andre lists, disinterested. "The usual." he hums. Pete holds the flashlight up to the room in front of him. "How long did you say this place has been abandoned?" he questioned as the two entered the room. "Three years." Andre confirms. Pete coughs away dust, walking up to the lonesome pot on the table. "Clancy, get a shot of this. This'd make a great cutaway." Pete says as he walks to explore the room a bit more. The camera man, idenitified as Clancy, nears the pot. Opening it up and shutting it with florish as Pete continues talking.
"So, uh, Hillbilly Joe and his family go missing—" Andre interrupts "Not hillbillies. The Bakers. Jack and Marguerite Baker." he huffs "And they were quiet, not backward." he walks around the table "Lot of bad rumors about their son, Lucas. Bad seed, apparently."
Pete steps on some kind of mold. Whining "Aw, shit..I knew I shouldn't have worn my good shoes." He points a flashlight at the rotting wood of the wall, after pricking himself on the rusted metal of one of the appliances. "Ah shit. Glad I took my shots." He runs the light of the flashlight over the wall "Although, this'd make a great backdrop." He turns around "Andre, what do you think?" he pauses at the silence. "Andre?" he asks more earnestly. "Andre. Andre!" he yells.
He walks deeper into the house, glancing at Clancy. "Clancy, you see where Andre went?" he asks. He sighs as he stands in the middle of the hallway. "Where is he? Un-fucking-believable." he huffs out in half frustration and half worry. "This is the last time I work with that guy." he says as he uses the flashlight to scope the area more. "I mean producers, they come and go, but a good cameraman like you, Clancy?" he says as he continues walking through the hallway. "You stick with me."
A sudden crash sounds. "What the fuck was that? Did you hear that?" Pete asks, pointing the flashlight at a familiar door. Ethan could recognize that the door was to the same room he was watching the footage in.
Pete leans forward. Gently opening the door. "Andre?" he questions as he enters "Where the fuck is he?" he scans the room with the light of the flashlight. "Andre, where are you man?" he asks his voice shaking slightly. They near the fireplace. Pete leans down looking into it. "What the hell?" Pete looked at the handle. Pulling it down. The wood creaks as a small door open next to the trashy looking bookshelf.
"You gotta be fucking kidding me." Pete said crouching down to look into it before anxiously standing beside it, looking at Clancy. "Alright, new deal." his voice less masked with show-off anger and more tense. "W-we find Andre and we go. I mean, fuck this show." he said looking into the area the door opened to using his flashlight. He sighs to himself before crouching down and entering into it. Clancy following close behind. Pete cautiously approaches a hole in the ground with a ladder. Clancy stands close behind him, peeking into the hole as Pete shines the flashlight down into it.
"You first." Pete says awkwardly. Clancy shrugs, a motion noticeable in the slight camera shake, as he walked to the ladder and began walking down. "Need a nice hero shot of me coming down the ladder." Pete adds on, trying to defend himself as to not make his fear obvious. "So, uh, you first." he added on as Clancy hopped off the ladder and looked around the room. "What do you see? What is it?" Pete questions. Water, about as much as a puddle, rocks, dirt, and mold. But the most noticeable of them all was Andre, leaning against the cold dirty looking brick.
Clancy reaches his hand putting it onto Andre's shoulder. The wet sound of the floor as his limp body turns to face Clancy. His eyes rolled back, bloodshot. His mouth and nose covered in a mixture in what seemed to be his blood and some kind of ichor of mold. Clancy screamed. Falling backward. Andre's limp corpse on his lap, cold, and unsettling. Blood dripped from the corpses eyes and mouth, the gravity seemingly draining what wasn't with its earlier leaning. The footage seems to fizz as boots and beige cargo pants trot over.
The footage leaves off with the screams of Clancy and Pete, the TV playing it shuts off with a soft click, the tape player spitting it back out. "Jesus…" Ethan hisses out. Walking to the fireplace. Crouching down and pulling down the lever seen in the footage. The door struggling to open, but opening nonetheless. He intakes a deep breath, as he walked to the same hole and climbed down the ladder into the same area as the footage. He groans with each step, but most of all when one of them snaps. He tries to maneuver it, but the entirety of the area he was clinging to snapped. Causing him to fall back with a groan and heavy breaths. "Damn it." he groans under his breath as he got up.
He looks around, walking down this stone hallway. The mud made an almost sloshy sound before he walked down the steps into the murky water of a flooded crawlspace. Crouching down at times to dodge the roof and its wooden foundations under the stone from hitting him in the face. When he made it out of the cramped space, he almost hit his head as a mangled corpse lifted from the water and stared at him. He swallowed tightly, gently pushing it away as he walked out of the water and pushed open the wooden door in front of him.
He carefully navigates what looked to be a jumble of cells, entering through an area with toiletries, and even an area with what looked like a bed frame. But it was all worth it when he neared a cell, lights on, with someone in it. He grasped the cells cold bars. "Mia?" he asked softly, looking at his wife, curled into herself on a dusty looking mattress in a disgusting looking cell. He gently tries at the chains. Sighing before he walked to the nearby table.
He picks up some kind of half paper. Swallowing tightly as he read a list of names listed as either dead, turned, or L? He shoves it away from himself. Not wanting to think about it. Not when Mia was just in that cell a few feet away. He scans his eyes over the table more. Sighing in relief when he saw bolt cutters. He gently took it and walked to the cell. A soft click of bolt cutters as the cell was opened.
He softly pushes the door open, walking towards Mia. He gently grasps her shoulder, laying her on her back as he leaned atop her. "Mia! Thank God I found you. It's me. It's Ethan!" he stabilized her with his hand on her other shoulder. Mia blinks, her once spaced out and glazed over eyes focusing once more as she stares at him. "Ethan? Ethan!" She sits up, Looking at him with fear, He was too thankful at the sight of her again to notice, his hand resting on her shoulder. "You shouldn't be here." Mia stated simply, gently pulling away from his grasp. She adjusts her position. "What do you mean? You contacted me." Ethan backed away a step as he spoke. Not wanting to spook her more.
She stands up quickly. Her voice filling with panic. "No, no. I wouldn't. Did I?" she slowly lowers herself to the bed once more. She takes a deep breath before standing up again. Getting close to Ethan's face in a panic. "Did anyone see you? Did he see you?" the words rampant. Its clear whatever she was talking about was terrifying. "He? Who else is here? What's going on?" Ethan questions, hands gently outreached ready to steady or soothe her if needed, but not touching her.
"Daddy's coming. We need to go." Mia grasps his right hand. "Daddy?" Ethan questions as he follows behind. "We need to go—NOW!" she says in a hurry. Ethan follows her, hand in hand before she lets go in front of some kind of stone hallway. "Where are you taking me?" he asked it confused but not unkind. "Someplace safe." Mia stated, refusing to elaborate.
"Are you gonna tell me what's going on?" Ethan leaned forward, ready to grasp her and try to still her, but stopping halfway. He leaned back running a hand through his sandy blonde hair. Fixing it a little. "You've been gone for three years." Mia turns to the floor in front of her. "Three years? has it really been three years?" Mia asked quietly, as if more so to herself.
She continues walking, Ethan following close behind. She peers through the messy wooden planks on the wall to their right, gasping in air in some kind of terror. "What is this place?" Ethan matched her, crouching down a little. "What did they do to you?" She stands fully up, Causing him to do the same. Hands slightly raised in a 'sorry' manner. "Not now. We need to get out of here first." Mia swallowed thickly, turning back in front of them. "I think it's this way." she said motioning with her hand in front of them.
Ethan follows her into this surgical looking room. A hospital bed chained to the floor with bloodied cloth cascading off of it alongside what looked like flesh and medicinal gear. The smell of chemicals, flesh, and the sickeningly wrong scent of mold stung his nose, making him scrunch it slightly as he looked over at Mia. Who had began breathing heavily and pacing a bit before continuing to walk. Ethan hurries to match her pace. Stopping her in this room before they traversed further.
"Mia, we have to talk. That message you sent me.." her face was terrified. Her jaw clenched as if to stop herself from panicking more. She raises her hand shaking it towards him. "Not me. That wasn't me!" she said it like the idea burned her. "But you did!" Ethan combated. Mia motions both her hands to her chest. "I didn't." she stated with that slight whine of fear. "Okay, fine. Just tell me what's going on." he said softly. Coming closer by a step. She steps back, trying to maintain the distance. "I am telling you everything that I know." she stated simply. She intakes a breath through her teeth, turning to the other room. "We have to go this way." Ethan nodded, following closely.
"Mia, are you sure you know where you're going?" he asks looking at the tight space they'd have to squeeze through. "The family used to bring me food through here. I remember." she turned back towards it, squeezing in between the metal shelf of boxes and the stone wall. Ethan looked around before copying the motion. "There. It's there!" She pointed down the hallway. Earning a hum of acknowledgement from Ethan. They stop in front of a wooden door. "This is it." She said happily pushing open the door.
Mia paced around the room. Searching. "There's another door here. I'm sure of it." she said walking up to a specific wall. Boarded up with multiple wooden planks. Her breath hitches and her words go frantic again. "It's not here. It's gone. It's gone!" it faded though. Her breath slowing as she turns towards Ethan. "We're going to be a family—now that you're here." her words soft. Unusual for the circumstance. "There's another door here. I'm sure of it." her voice suddenly more Mia again. She lays down on the couch.
Ethan sighs slightly, more so worried for his wife. He stayed planted in place for a bit before looking around. Finding nothing but old dolls and weird polaroids. He paused in his place after he put back a doll and Mia screamed. "Leave me alone!" her voice had a whine to it. She seemed terrified.
Ethan hurried back into the room. "Mia?" he turned, dust upturned from where the door was just shut and sealed over earlier. He swallowed. "Fuck." he whispered under his breath, He left, walking up the stairs. He gently scanned the hallway. Spotting a phone he sighs with relief. Trying to dial 911. "Please, Cmon.." he chewed on his bottom lip only to be met with silence. Utter radio silence. He sighed setting it down fairly quickly.
He digs through a drawer, getting a map of the guest house. "Huh, so that's where we are?" he stuffed it into his pocket after folding it. He pauses in what he did though, hearing urgent knocks from the door he came from. "Mia? Is that you?" he whispered to himself as he jogged back over there. Once he opened the door he began walking back down it. Weird groans sounding from someone or something.
He paused when he saw Mia crouched to the wood of the stairs. Fingers practically clawed into it with how tightly she held on. The light of his flashlight malfunctioned just as he saw her try to climb another step.
His breath caught as Mia was in his face, but this wasn't Mia was it? Her eyes blackened. Darkened veins decorating her usually fair face. Nose scrunched in what seemed anger. Lips blackened. She groans, moving unnaturally. Twitching as her jaw worked into itself weirdly for a second. She picks him up by his dress shirt collar. throwing him back up into the hallway he came from.
Ethan whimpers and groans into himself as he stood himself back up. Only to immediately be grabbed by her. A knife raised in her right hand as she lurched it ready to dig it into him. Instead, throwing him to the floor next to her. Crouching on top of him. She rapidly tries to stab him, Ethan fights back, his left hand getting cut at the wrist as he was able to dodge getting stabbed for a bit..well. Until he felt the burning and aching sensation of the knife digging into the middle of his left hand. The knife peaking out from the flesh of the back of his hand.
He finally shoves her off. She falls to the floor with a clatter of the knife. He quickly stands up. Looking at her as he tries to back away. "Mia, wait- WAIT!" He yelled as she got up in a sickeningly quick speed, stabbing him in the forearm a bit before he catches the wrist of the hand holding the knife and the other hand gently grasps her face. Shoving her back. He catches the knife mid swing, stopping her from getting him again. He sat on the floor, staring down at his injuries before looking back at her.
Mia drops the knife, the discoloration and oddity draining from her for a second as she holds her hands up to her head. "I can hear her.." she whines. Her hands dropping to her sides again. "I can feel her clawing her way back inside of me." her hands lift back up hovering above her chest. "Get out! Leave me alone!"
She beats herself into the wall next to her. "I've been bad. I deserve this." she groans, leaning back before driving herself into the wall again. She falls back unconscious in front of Ethan. He stands back up. "What the fuck are you, Mia?" the words soft, quiet. As if he didn't know what to do or how to help.
Ethan gets out a first aid thing he got pouring it on his wounds. The burning of the alcohol making him feel less like someone with a cut through his left hands palm, and a variety of other cuts decorating his left arm and right hand.
He walks away, trying the other door again. Sighing when it failed. When he walked back to leave through the door Mia popped through and attacked him from, she stands up. That disgusting inhuman discoloration and way her muscles worked back. She grasps on his hand, lifting his hand in an unnatural angle. Making him groan in pain. Mia's other hand reaches for his shirt collar again. "Leave me!" her voice was almost a growl like this. It made his stomach turn. She threw him through the wall. Breaking open the room previously boarded up into dust and splintered wood. She stomps through as Ethan sits up, crawling and grasping an axe the wood she blew in through throwing him into there likely spat out next to him. She groans ripping something from the wall. "Go!" She yells.
Ethan stands up, Walking towards Mia. Attacking her in order to survive. She stabbed him and he struggled back. The fight was unfortunately short, as he dodged enough hits and neared her. Driving the axe into her shoulder deeply. His breath hitched as she faded to normal. His hand shook as his hand reached for her. She reached back, before falling to the ground. Ethan leaned atop her with shaking and bloody hands. He whimpers through clenched teeth, Standing up again before he poured that first aid bottle on himself again.
The walk out of the room was solemn. It only annoyed him more when the phone he tried earlier suddenly rung. But what did he have to lose if Mia was gone? He walked to the phone, gently picking it up.
"You really shouldn't have come here." a thick Louisiana accent spoke through the phone, a woman's voice. "Who's this? And what the fuck is going on?" Ethan hissed. "My name's Zoe. There should be a way out through the attic." she stated it simply, as if we were discussing the weather. "Attic." Ethan repeats to himself under his breath. "Go there, now." Zoe hung up after that. Causing Ethan to sigh in frustration as he set it back down.
"Nobody has told me anything." he was irritated. As he walked out of hallway through the finally opened door that didn't lead to where Mia was kept. But as he was walking over there, he hid the wince he got when he noticed Mia's 'corpse' was gone. He picks back up the axe with a harsh sigh. "Mia. I love you." he said more so to the world in hopes she could still hear, before he left out that door. He walks all the way back to that chain and duck tape shut cabinet from when he first came here.
slicing open the duct tape and snapping open the chains with a bolt cutter and pulling out a fuse from it. He walks to the room with the chimney and creepy polaroids. Setting it into its place alongside the other four. He swallows deeply as he walks out. He was terrified as Mia suddenly popped out the room from underneath the stairs. Grasping his arm.
"Ethan! It's okay, its okay, It's me." She said softly. The old blood from her earlier Ethan inflicted wound, black and decorating her face and shoulder still. She gently leads him deeper down the hall. "I know you didn't mean to hurt me." Those words made Ethan melt a little into her touch more. But the illusion broke when she roughly let go of his hand. Roughly grasping his shoulders before shoving him into the wall and holding him there. "But you shouldn't have done that!" her voice became a disgusting half growl like before. Her face melting into that inhuman look again
She throws him into the wall that covered the stairs. He sat down on the floor as she grasped his arm and held it to the wall. Huffing in-between groans and growls "It fucking HURT!" she drove a screwdriver into his hand holding it there into the wall. He screams as she begins to walk a little bit away.
He struggles to get it out of the wall. Whimpering with each turn of the metal and handle against his injured flesh. Meanwhile Mia grasps a chainsaw, the purr of the weapon as she started it filling the room. "Now lets see what you feel." She growls out as she starts to near Ethan. He finally frees it out, but Mia drives the chainsaw into his left hand.
She held him up by his shirt again, throwing him away from his now disconnected left hand. He reaches his right hand to the wound. Trying to stop blood flow. Mia rambles as she stumbles away with the weapon. Ethan hurries and grasps his arm. Pressing his only hand left flat against the button to lower the stairs to the attic. As soon as the metal hissed with the neglected machinery settling, Ethan hurried up it. Collecting the bullets he found and the M19 he found. "Fuck..How am I gonna.." he winces at the thought, Putting the gun in his waistband for a second as he collected a First aid bottle and poured it on his left wrist as it would lessen the pain of a missing hand.
He pulls back out the gun. "Okay, fine." He muttered. Entering the attic deeper. He hummed as he saw a latter out the window. Maybe an escape? He starts climbing it to the best of his ability with one hand. The window Infront of him cut and torn by a chainsaw, As Mia jumped down, immediately attacking him with her chainsaw. "I have to stop it." she groans out, trying to tear into him with the machine. "It all has to come down." she gets close enough to almost tear him in half. Ethan quickly grasps it with his last hand. Trying to hold it back.
"I don't want your help!" she continues trying to shove the chainsaw into him. He kicks her back luckily. Barely missing getting cut into halves. "They're relying on me. Everyone is relying on me. EVERYONE!" she yells. cutting through walls and doors to try and get to Ethan. Ethan was able to gun her down. He gasps heavily. "Mia, I'm so sorry..I don't-" he looked down at her, swallowing so harshly his Adams apple bobbed.
He turned to leave but a harsh and heavy hand grasps his shoulder. An older man in a yellow and white striped dress shirt looked back at him, reeling his fist back to hit him. "Welcome to the family, son." The punch connected to his head. He felt it, he felt himself lay on the dusty floor of this place. He could feel the blood draining from himself. Cold. Before he felt so hot he might as well have been on an open fire, then. Darkness.
