#ppsf

“Chlo’?” 

Chloe opened her eyes and turned to look at Beca who was beside her on the sofa.

“Hmm?”

“Do you see it?”

Beca was looking at her stomach, the shirt pulled up to reveal her pale skin that was marked by deep purple stretch marks, caused by the rapid expanding of her stomach during her three day pregnancy. 

“See what, baby?” Chloe asked.

“Moving,” Beca replied. “I can feel…” She huffed and pulled her shirt back down. “Never mind.”

Chloe lifted her shirt again and placed her hand against Beca’s stomach. 

“I don’t feel anything,” Chloe said. “I don’t see anything.”

“It stopped. It stops when someone else looks.” 

Chloe didn’t comment. She pulled Beca’s shirt back down, and placed her hand on top. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation.

It wasn’t that Chloe didn’t believe her - after everything they’d gone through, there was nothing Chloe wouldn’t believe - she just didn’t know how to help.

The scar on her hand burned. 

“I’m not crazy,” Beca said.

“I know you aren’t,” Chloe said. “I just don’t know what to do.”

It was nearly six months after their ordeal in the forest, but there didn’t seem to be any return to normal on the cards.

They weren’t the same people who had entered those woods, but how could they be?

Beca had had something ripped from her. Stolen. And with that, a piece of Chloe had gone too. 

“I’m going to make dinner,” Chloe said. “What do you feel up to?”

“Nothing,” Beca replied, her face twisting at the thought. 

She hadn’t been able to keep anything down for weeks, but no doctor could tell them why. 

The best they could come up with was an eating disorder. An attempt to regain control after what had happened to her, but Chloe thought it was more than that. She knew it was more than that. 

They recommended therapy that Beca refused - “Who would believe me anyway?” - and advised Beca to drink calorie and nutrient dense shakes.

So far Beca could tolerate them, so that’s what they went with, but Chloe would still ask her every evening what she wanted for dinner.

“I’m gonna shower,” Beca said. 

She showered several times a day now. Standing under the water long after it had run cold. 

Chloe could always hear the sounds of her furiously scrubbing at her own skin over the noise of the water hitting the tub.

“I still feel dirty. I can still smell it on me.”

Sometimes Chloe could smell it too.

The rot. The earth. The blood.

Death and decay and nature.

Chloe’s hand burned and itched, and she squeezed it into a fist.

White bite marks shone against her pale skin. 

After Beca’s shower they ate in silence. Or Chloe ate, and Beca took tentative sips of the apparently strawberry flavoured shake.

“What do we do?” Beca asked. “How do we fix this?”

“I don’t know,” Chloe replied. 

“I’m sorry,” Beca said. 

“Baby, this isn’t your fault. You have nothing to apologise for.”

“I’m the one who wanted to go on that hike. I’m the one who kept pushing instead of turning back. I’m the one who… I’m the broken one. I’m what’s stopping you from having a normal life.”

“No,” Chloe said, her voice firm, leaving no room for an argument. “None of that is on you. Beca, you couldn’t possibly have known that was going to happen. And you aren’t broken-”

Beca scoffed and pushed away her strawberry shake.

“You aren’t,” Chloe insisted. “And even if you were, Jesus, could anyone blame you? And you aren’t stopping me from a ‘normal life’. All I want is a life with you in it. Besides, I’m not exactly normal myself right now.” Chloe absentmindedly scratched the scar on her hand. “I’m carrying it with me too.” Chloe reached across the table to take Beca’s hand and was relieved when she didn’t pull away. “If you’re broken, then so am I. We can be broken together.”

Beca nodded and sniffed.

“So how do we fix it?” She asked.

“I… I don’t know if we can. I think the only thing we can do is wait. Wait and hope it passes.”

“Chloe, I can… It’s moving inside of me again. I can feel it in there. I can’t just… If the only solution is to wait and hope then I’m taking a knife and cutting this thing out of me.”

Chloe felt a wave of nausea rush through her, and she had to squeeze her eyes shut against the mental image.

What scared her most was that she knew Beca was serious.

They were silent for a while. Beca’s shake remained untouched, and Chloe’s food had gotten cold on her plate. 

“What about the FBI guy?”

A month ago, Beca would have said no. A week ago, Beca would have said no. 

But yesterday something had crawled up through Beca’s throat and she had vomited it into the toilet.

Something alive.

Something that Chloe didn’t know about yet.

So instead of saying no, Beca simply nodded.

“You kept his card?” She asked.

“Just in case,” Chloe replied. 

“Fuck it,” Beca said. “At this point, what do we have to lose?”

There’s still plenty to lose, Chloe thought. We’re both alive and we have each other. We still have everything to lose.

But she kept that thought to herself. She pictured Beca taking a knife to her own stomach and her hand involuntarily tightened into a fist.

Even though it was well after dinner time, Chloe stood and retrieved the agent’s card from her purse.

If this was what they were doing - if this was how they were going to fix things - Chloe wasn’t going to wait a minute longer.

She dialed the number and put the phone on loudspeaker. 

“We're sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again.”

Chloe hung-up, checked the number, and tried again.

“We're sorry; you have reached a number that has been-”

She hung-up. Checked the number. Tried again.

“We're sorry; you have-”

Hang up. Check.Try again.

Chloe did it over and over until Beca put her hand on Chloe’s arm.

“Chlo’ stop, it’s okay. He mustn’t have been legit,” she said. “I was pretty out of it at the time, we both were, it’s not like we asked to see his credentials.”

Chloe felt anger rise in her stomach that was washed away with waves of disappointment, only to be replaced with more anger. 

She’d been holding onto this card for months. Hoping and praying that, if things didn’t improve, Beca would let her call. Hoping that this stranger would have some answers for them. Have some way to fix what had been broken.

“Why would he do that?” Chloe asked, staring at the card so she didn’t have to look at Beca. She didn’t want to see the anger and disappointment she felt, but she was also terrified she would see something else. Resignation. Acceptance. 

“Maybe he was a reporter looking for a story,” Beca said. “Or maybe he was just some asshole messing-”

On the table, Chloe’s phone began to vibrate.

Unknown number calling.

Chloe answered.

“Hello?” Her voice was shaking.

“Ms Beale,” a man replied. “I’m glad you called. Hope you’ll forgive the ruse, I’m sure you’ll understand I need to screen my calls.”

“You’re the agent we spoke to in the hospital? The one who said he could help?”

She didn’t ask how he knew she was the one calling, or how he even knew her name.

“Yes and no,” he said. “I am the one you spoke to, but I’m afraid I’m no longer with the Bureau.”

“Can you help?” Chloe asked, not really caring who this man worked for. “Can you help us?”

“I can most certainly try,” he said. “I assume Ms Mitchell is also there?”

“Yes,” Chloe said. 

“Perfect,” he said. “Can you put me on speakerphone?”

Chloe did as he asked.

“Can you both hear me?”

“Yes,” Beca and Chloe replied again. 

“Now I don’t want either of you to panic,” he said. “This won’t cause any lasting damage and it really is the easiest way.”

“What are you talking about?”

The man didn’t reply, but a second later a tone began playing through the phone, and Chloe felt like a knife had been driven into her skull. 

All coherent thoughts left her brain as her hands clapped against her ears.

All she could think about was how to make the pain stop. 

Not even Beca existed to her anymore. Just this sound. This pain. 

The pitch changed, the knife in her head twisted, and everything went dark.

-

“Chloe.”

A voice whispered to her through the darkness. A voice she recognised. 

“Chloe, wake up.”

Someone was talking to her. Shaking her arm.

Not someone.

Beca.

Beca!

Chloe’s eyes snapped open as she jolted awake.

“You scared me,” Beca said, relief flooding her voice. “I couldn’t get you to wake up.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Beca said. She helped Chloe sit up, and Chloe felt her head swim. Elbows digging into her thighs, she let her head drop into her hands. 

Beca sounded hollow. Empty. Worse than she had a few hours earlier if that was even possible. Chloe wanted to ask if she was okay, but she couldn’t muster up the words.

“Are you feeling okay?” Beca asked, her hand resting on Chloe’s back. 

“I don’t know,” Chloe replied. “A little dizzy.”

“Yeah,” Beca said. “I was too. It’ll pass.”

In a few minutes, it did, and Chloe was able to lift her head and take stock of where they were. 

It looked like someone’s hardly used spare bedroom, but the wooden walls led her to believe they were in some kind of cabin. They were sitting on the edge of a sofa bed in a room that was barely bigger than it. The rest of the space was taken up by cardboard boxes.

Before either of them could speak again, the door to the room was pulled open, and the agent they’d met those months ago stepped inside.

“Ah, good, you’re both awake,” he said. 

He looked more dishevelled than Chloe remembered him, and sounded more nervous than he had over the phone.

Gone was the black suit and tie and slicked back hair.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “Old Bureau trick. I needed to get you here without you finding out where ‘here’ is.”

“Next time just go with a blindfold,” Beca said. 

“And have you peek out? Or count the turns in the road? You can never be too careful. I trust you’re both feeling okay now?”

“Just about,” Beca said.

“Ms Beale?”

“I’m okay.”

“Good,” he said. 

“We couldn’t have spoken over the phone?” Chloe asked.

“These things are best done in person,” he said. He bounced on his heels in the hallway, and the light of the room shone against his glasses, hiding his eyes. He looked… manic.

“What things?” Chloe asked. 

He smiled. “Family reunions.”

Beca seemed to catch on before Chloe did, and the ‘no’ that slipped out of her mouth sounded more like a groan.

“The hospital wanted it gone,” he said, “and I had a badge from the FBI. It’s funny, no one ever checks to see if it’s valid.”

“No,” Beca said again. She pushed herself off the bed and forced herself between the stacks of boxes towards the room’s only window. She pulled back the curtains and was greeted with nothing but dark, dense, forest. “No!”

“You… you bastard, you said you could help us!” Chloe yelled, panic clawing at her throat. 

“And I can,” he said. “I promise I can. But you have to help me, first. He needs his mother, Beca. Help me, help him, and I’ll let you go. Both of you.”

Beca turned from the window and, with something close to a growl, threw herself at him.

Before Beca could reach him, he withdrew something from his pocket, and there was that tone again.

Beca hit the floor with a thud as she clapped her hands against her ears again, and Chloe couldn’t move to help her.

As quickly as it had started, it was over, and they were both left breathing heavily on the floor. 

“I didn’t want to do that,” he said. “But you didn’t leave me with much choice. I’ll give you both some time to settle in, and, when you’re ready, we can have a little chat about what I’ll need from you.”

He shut the door behind them, and they heard a deadbolt slide across, locking them in.

“I can’t be here,” Beca said, arms shaking as she pushed herself up and off the floor. “Chloe, I need to get away from here.”

“I know,” Chloe said. “Fuck, I don’t have my phone or anything.” Despite the lingering dizziness, Chloe forced herself to her feet and squeezed through the boxes to get to the window. “Will it open?”

“I don’t know,” Beca said, trying the door to the room. 

The window was locked tight, the same as the door, and neither would budge no matter how hard they tried to force it. 

“What do we do?” Chloe asked, tears welling in her eyes. 

Beca didn’t have an answer, so she didn’t say anything. She returned to the sofa bed, sat on the edge, and covered her face with her hands, as if she could hide from whatever happened next.

After a few more tugs against the door handle, Chloe joined her.

“I can’t do this,” Beca sobbed. “I can’t be back here. It was supposed to be over, I was supposed to be out.”

All Chloe could do was hold Beca against her chest as she white-knuckled her way through her panic attack.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe said, when Beca finally seemed to relax against her. “I shouldn’t have called him.”

“Not your fault,” Beca said. “How could you have known? And besides, it was my idea.”

“Maybe he will help,” Chloe said, trying to sound convincing enough that even she believed it. “Maybe he will let us go.”

“What does he want from me?”

Nothing good, Chloe thought. “I don’t know. But I won’t let him hurt you.”

Beca didn’t have it in her to argue. She knew Chloe was just as powerless here as she was. 

“Someone will notice we’re gone,” Chloe said, trying to convince herself as much as Beca. “Aubrey or… Someone will look for us.”

“I don’t know if I can do this Chloe. Whatever he wants from me I don’t… I won’t survive this.”

“You will,” Chloe said. “You have to.”

-

The sun had set and risen again by the time they heard movement at the door.

Neither of them had slept. Chloe had alternated between pacing, trying the door, and peering out of the window. Beca had sat against the wall, knees pulled into her chest, and hadn’t moved.

They heard the deadbolt slide, and the door was pulled open.

“Morning,” he said. “I made breakfast.”

“We aren’t hungry,” Chloe replied, the rumbling of her stomach betraying her. “Just tell us what you want so we can get out of here.”

“Truth be told, Chloe, I don’t actually want anything from you,” he said. 

“Let her go then,” Beca said. “If you don’t need her-

“-Beca-”

“-let her go.”

“Ah, if only that were possible,” he said. “Chloe’s here to make sure you cooperate. Do what I need you to do, and Chloe doesn’t get hurt.” He shrugged. 

Beca swallowed. “And what do you need me to do?”

“Breakfast first,” he said. He stepped aside and gestured for them to walk through the door. “After you.” He withdrew his hand from his pocket and held up the small box he had used the night before to incapacitate them. “I don’t want to use it, but I will.”

Beca and Chloe shared a look before they walked through the door and into the main room of the cabin.

There was a table and chairs, a small kitchen, and a beat-up sofa. There was one window above the sink, a door to what they presumed was another bedroom, and the front door leading out into the forest.

“Bacon and eggs, Chloe,” he said, setting a plate in front of her. “And coffee.” Chloe eyed it suspiciously and he rolled his eyes. “Why would I need to drug you? I have this.” He held up the small box again. 

Chloe was starving. Her dinner the night before had gone largely untouched, and that felt like a lifetime ago.

“What about Beca?” Chloe asked, taking a cautious bite of bacon.

“I’ve got something else for her,” he said.

He opened and shut the fridge and began busying himself preparing something.

Beca felt like her head was swimming. She was exhausted and nauseous and all she wanted was to be back home in their apartment. 

“Here,” he said, placing a plate down in front of Beca. 

“What the fuck!” Chloe exclaimed.

Beca wanted to make a similar protest, but her mouth had started watering just at the smell of it. 

On the plate in front of her was a raw, bloody, steak. 

She suddenly felt very hungry. The kind of hunger she hadn’t felt since any of this had happened.

She could feel Chloe’s eyes on her, and she had to stop herself from licking her lips.

“Beca?”

“I’m… I’m really fucking hungry, Chloe.”

Chloe swallowed. “Okay,” she said. She turned to face their host. “Does she get a knife and fork?”

“I don’t think she needs it.”

As if she had been waiting for Chloe’s permission, Beca had picked up and bitten into the meat the second Chloe had said ‘okay’. 

She wasn’t sure if she’d ever tasted anything so good.

Her mouth and fingers were bloody by the time she’d finished, and she felt a rush of shame when she felt Chloe’s hand on her thigh. It was if she had just come back to herself, and remembered she wasn’t some wild beast feasting on a kill.

“I, um, I don’t…” She trailed off and turned to look at the former agent. “Can I go clean up?”

He nodded towards the kitchen sink. 

Beca washed the blood from her face and hands, and rinsed out her mouth to get rid of the taste. She missed it as soon as it was gone.

Then she felt it again.

The movement in her stomach.

Something in there was fighting. Wriggling. Clawing its way out of her stomach and up into her throat.

There was nowhere else to go, so Beca wretched into the kitchen sink. She heard Chloe gasp beside her, as she vomited up raw meat and this moving, living, thing.

“Beca…”

“It’s fine,” Beca said, “I’m fine.”

“Beca, what the hell is this?” Chloe asked. “Has this happened before?”

“Just once,” she said. “The day before we called this guy.”

“You should have told me.”

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

Chloe scoffed. “I’m already worried out of my mind, what’s one more thing?”

“It’s perfectly normal,” their captor said. “Some mammals produce milk to feed their young, Beca produces these.”

“There’s nothing normal about this,” Chloe said, looking at him with disgust.

“Who are you?” Beca asked him. “How do you know all of this? We don’t even know your name.”

“My name isn’t important, but you can call me Simon if you like,” he said. “I was with the FBI until a few months ago. Until the day you disappeared in the woods. Or should I say, these woods.” 

Beca felt herself go cold.

No.

No, she’d told herself she’d never go back there.

“I heard some chatter about a girl going missing here and I did a little digging, like I always did when I hear of a girl about our age disappearing in the woods. You can’t imagine my excitement, Beca, when I read about how this wasn’t the first time for you.”

Beca closed her eyes and saw that red sky again. The hut. 

That… thing.

“I told my boss it was worth a look. Some cryptid related thing. He said no. Said he was sick of my ‘bullshit’,” he said, with airquotes. “So I quit.”

“I don’t understand,” Beca said. 

“We all have our part to play in this,” he said. “Your job was to bring forth the next generation. Mine was to make sure it survived.”

-

It was late into the afternoon by the time Simon had finished telling them his story. It was remarkably similar to the one Beca had told Chloe all those months ago by the campfire. 

However where Beca had been terrified by her experience - traumatised so much she had been forced to forget it - Simon had been thrilled. He felt special. Chosen.

He’d spent the past thirty years waiting for his moment, but when it had finally arrived he’d found himself ill-equipped.

No matter what he did, the creature would not thrive. 

It needed something he couldn’t provide. It needed its mother.

“Help me raise him,” Simon said, “and you get to go home.”

Beca’s head had been in her hands for the past hour.

Chloe had been restless. Alternating between pacing the room, and picking at the stuffing from an old cushion, unable to keep her hands still. 

“Why do you even want it to live? Don’t you know what it’ll grow into?”

“Because that was my task,” he said. “The task I was chosen for. If I fail… I won’t fail. I’ll succeed and I’ll be rewarded for it.”

“Who cares if you fail? It died. It… It turned to dust and bones and…” 

She saw it crawling across the ground. Felt its cold, slimy body on her thigh.

“It didn’t die,” he said. “It was reborn. It’s a cycle as old as time itself, and it will not end because I fucked it up!”

“You’re crazy,” Chloe said. “And you’re even crazier if you think Beca will help you.”

“He’s her child-”

“-It is not my child!” Beca snapped. “It was a… A fucking parasite that I was forced to carry!”

“You will help me, Beca,” he said. “One way or the other.”

“Fuck you-”

The tone cut through the room again, and Beca heard Chloe thud to the floor before everything went black.

-

Beca was brought round by the cold wind whipping against her face.

She was being moved. Bumped against uneven ground. 

Just behind her she could hear someone panting with exhaustion.

When she realised she couldn’t move her arms or legs, her eyes snapped open in a panic. 

She looked down and saw she was in a wheelchair, her arms and legs tied to the metal bars. 

“Fuck.”

She struggled against the ropes, but they didn’t budge.

“It didn’t have to be this way,” he said.

“Where’s Chloe?”

“She’s fine,” he said. “Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be and she’ll stay fine.” He huffed against the effort of pushing her across the forest ground. “Almost there.”

Night had fallen now, and Beca could just make out a dark structure in the trees ahead of her. 

The fear that she’d managed to push down was now crawling up her throat.

“No,” she said. “No, please.”

“Try not to panic,” Simon said from behind her. “You’ll distress him.”

“Please,” Beca sobbed. “Please don’t do this.”

“This will help you both,” he said. “It isn’t natural for a mother to be away from her child.”

Beca could do nothing but watch and whimper as the structure drew closer.

Simon pulled a ring of keys out of his pocket and placed one in the door of the hut. 

From behind the door, Beca heard scuffling.

The sound of hooves scraping against a wooden floor. 

Her fear had rendered her mute.

Please. Please don’t open the door.

I want to go home.

I want Chloe.

I want my Dad.

Please, I want my Dad.

The door creaked open, and Beca was hit with the stench that filled her nightmares.

Moonlight filled the hut, and Beca could see matted black fur, horns, hoofs, blood-red eyes.

Simon pushed her inside.

It was bigger than when Beca had seen it last, though not as big as it had been once.

It moved closer, and Beca heard the thunk of a heavy metal chain hit the ground. 

She squeezed her eyes shut and started to weep again.

She didn’t want to see any more.

She felt its wet nose against the skin of her leg. Heard it snuffling around her hand. Felt its hot breath on her neck.

Beca waited for the moment it would lunge. Waited for its jaw to close around her neck. Its teeth to puncture her skin. That long tongue to lap up her blood.

“I guess I should let you get re-acquainted.”

“No!” Beca cried, her voice louder than she’d intended.

The creature shrieked as if frightened and retreated to the back corner of the hut.

“You aren’t in a position to refuse me, Beca.”

“Fuck you.”

With a huff of frustration, he fisted his hand in her hair and forced her to look at the creature that, only a few months ago, had torn its way out of her.

The action startled Beca, and she let out a gasp of pain.

The creature let out something close to a growl.

“I’ve tried to be reasonable, but you’re making this very difficult.”

“Get off me,” Beca said through gritted teeth. 

The creature leapt at them, its jaw snapping millimetres away from Beca’s face.

The wood the metal chain was bolted into groaned. 

Simon laughed.

“Protective, isn’t he? Or is he just hungry? Will he enjoy eating a bit of Chloe, do you imagine?”

Ten seconds ago, a new level of fear seemed impossible, but now Beca had reached it.

She watched him withdraw a plastic box from his bag, watched him open the lid, and heard a wet thud as he tipped whatever it was onto the ground. 

It was devoured by the creature in seconds, and it tore the plastic box out of Simon’s hands so it could lick up the blood that was left.

“What did you do?”

“He needed something to eat.”

“You said Chloe was fine!”

“And she is,” he said. “You can live without a little leg muscle, you know.”

Beca wasn’t sure if she was about to throw up or pass out.

“I should check on her,” he said, pushing Beca further into the hut. He put the break on the chair. “Make sure she hasn’t lost too much blo-”

Beca heard a sickening thud behind her.

Before she could question what was going on, Chloe was in front of her, her hands on Beca’s face.

“Are you okay?” Chloe asked.

Beca nodded. “Are you?”

Chloe didn’t answer, and started to untie the ropes from around Beca’s arms.

“Chloe?” Beca raised her voice. Chloe looked up. “Are you hurt?”

Chloe shook her head. “We need to go.”

The creature had begun to growl again, clearly suspicious of the new presence in its space.

As Chloe moved onto Beca’s other arm, the creature snapped towards her, its teeth scraping the skin on Chloe’s arm.

“No!” Beca said, holding out her other hand, as if scolding a dog. “No. Not Chloe.”

To her surprise, the creature listened and seemed to understand.

Chloe swallowed and forced her heart back down into her chest. 

“I’m trying to help her,” Chloe said, trying to keep the shake from her voice. 

The creature pulled against its chains again, and Chloe felt it sniffing the air beside her.

Does it remember me? Chloe thought, feeling the scar its teeth had made in her hand burn. 

Tentatively, Chloe continued to untie the ropes from Beca’s arm. The creature watched, its red eyes searching for a threat.

Beca heard a low groan from behind her.

“Hurry,” she said to Chloe, using her now free hands to untie one leg while Chloe worked on the other.

“Stupid bitch,” Simon mumbled, and that tone filled the air again. 

Beca could do nothing but fall forward out of the chair, her free hands clamped over her ears, as the creature screeched its disapproval at the sound.

Beca waited for the pitch to change - to be swallowed by that darkness again - but it never happened.

The sound remained and the pain in Beca’s head continued to build and build until her screams of pain joined the creature’s.

She could just about make out the sounds of a scuffle, and the creaking of the wood as the creature fought for its freedom. 

Beca wasn’t sure of how much more of this she would be expected to endure. 

The darkness would be a welcome escape at this point, even if it would mean waking up to find herself tied to the chair again, or worse.

Beneath the din of the tone, the creaking groaning wood finally splintered and snapped. The metal hook that held the chain chain thunked to the ground and caught Beca in the leg as it was whipped across the floor of the hut.

Beca heard screams join her own, until the tone was mercifully cut off. 

“Bec, c’mon, we have to go.” Chloe mumbled, pulling her up off the floor. She sounded exhausted. 

“What happened?” Beca asked.

“One sec,” Chloe said. She picked up a small black box from the ground and stuffed it into her pocket.

Then she pulled something out of her ears.

“You made earplugs,” Beca said.

“Out of the stuffing in the cushion,” she said. “I knew if we were going to get away we’d have to make it so he couldn’t use that thing on us. And he was so caught up in his story he didn’t notice.”

“You’re a genius,” Beca said.

Chloe shrugged. “Stole the idea from a movie. Look, that… thing got out. We need to go before it comes back for us.”

“What about…” Beca’s question died in her throat as she looked down at what was left of Simon. 

Was it trying to protect me? Beca thought, or just hungry?

“Wait,” Beca said, pulling her eyes away from the mess of flesh, blood, and bones on the ground and focusing them on Chloe. “When he used that thing on us, and tied me to the chair, did he hurt you?”

“No,” Chloe said. “I played along because I didn’t have a solid plan yet, but he just tied my hands.”

“He had meat, or something, he said he’d gotten it from you.”

Chloe shook her head. “That thing you threw up? He took that. Bec, we really need to go.”

“Yeah, right,” Beca said, shaking her head slightly. She still felt dizzy, and her knee throbbed from where the chain had hit it, but she forced herself to start walking anyway. 

“I have his keys,” Chloe said. “We just need to make it to his car.”

In the woods, they heard the creature call out. 

“It knows I’m trying to leave,” Beca said. 

“Then let’s go before it tries to stop us,” Chloe said.

They made it to the car and Chloe tossed Beca the keys.

It was then that Beca realised how bad shape Chloe was in.

The side of her face was starting to swell, and blood was running from a cut on the bridge of her nose, as well as both nostrils.

“I’m fine,” Chloe said. “He hit me a few times when he realised I hadn’t gone down with you. I’m okay, I just don’t think I can drive right now.”

With a shaking hand, Beca started the car.

The engine roared into life, and a black shape ran through the beams of the headlights. 

“Go,” Chloe said, clicking in her seatbelt before her head fell back against the headrest. “Go, go, go.”

Beca drove, following the dirt track that led away from the cabin.

The creature kept pace with them, scrambling on all fours, its mouth stained with the blood of its caretaker.

“Don’t look at it,” Chloe said. “Just drive.”

Beca did as Chloe instructed. Her eyes on the road ahead, praying that at any moment the trees would thin and they’d hit a real road. 

The creature shrieked on Beca’s left, and then they heard a thud on the roof of the car.

“Oh fuck,” Beca muttered. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

The glass of the passenger window shattered as a hoofed leg kicked its way inside.

Chloe screamed and Beca swerved the car, oversteering as she tried to keep it on the track.

Beca put her foot down, hoping the speed would be enough to dislodge it from the side of the car.

There was a sharp turn up ahead, and the car spun out, the passenger side colliding with the trees that lined the track. 

The car rocked with the impact, and the engine spluttered and died.

The force was enough to shake the creature loose, and it shrieked and scurried off into the forest. 

“Chlo’?” Beca asked, coughing as the smoke from the engine and dust from the track came in through the broken window. “Are you okay?”

“Mhm,” Chloe muttered. “Something’s broken. Still alive though.”

It took a few attempts, but Beca got the car started again, and it limped its way down the remainder of the dirt track.

The shrieks and shouts of the creature followed them out of the forest, and when Beca glanced in the rearview mirror, she saw it watching them.