Anyone who was from Texas in all honesty, would be able to spot let alone see Chris from half a mile away. Not that he stuck out terribly and tourists weren't common, but everyone had lived there for god knows how long, and nobody ever budged. In a sense, people spent their fifty years worth or so of their lives in the same town, without much of a care. Although it seemed those who knew the mayor, and his nephew, could tell otheriwse. Sure, his uncle fit in like most but it had seemed the moment the younger male had came rolling in for the summer time, people had sort of stuck their noses up at him like he was some strange creature; from another world. Most had that look on their face, that stare.Â
Drayton included it had seemed like, though the older individual had eased up a little, quicker- unlike most who poor Chris had been forced to grace with his presence for the day. The fight, still the star of the show and the main source of attention in the hardware store right then, and making things all the more difficult for the blonde. Like hell was anyone else bound to offer a ride after what'd happened, and if Chris had started walking even he still would've offered then. It had been set from the beginning, but the other simply had no idea what he was getting himself into fully with a measly little car ride. Perhaps part of it, had been the blessed factor and the benefit of raising his younger, rowdy siblings most his life- a definitive outstretch over time on his patience. He still had it, though it was certainly thin when dealing with the other sawyers back at the house, and the moment he'd get home. The twins, getting on his nerves most of the time.Â
He was sure they were bound to be excited to find out he'd picked someone up for the evening; a dinner guest. Of course, they had had plenty before, though none truly got to have dinner let alone ever leave the house, ever again. Well, s o m e got to eat dinner sometimes. He was a prideful man when it came to food!- and like hell was he one to let his meals go to waste over blood spilled, and night long hollering. A hand resting on the side of his hip lightly and apron still on, and over his shoulders, he had almost expected him to be caught off guard but in the end had sort of insisted. At least, it seemed that way. Drayton sawyer was a very hard man to read fully, and truly. His appearance, did most of the talking for him.Â
"Quit apologizin' it's really no big deal, kid- you look like you'd seen a ghost, or something had jumped up an' bit ya anyway! Hope you aren't up to any stealin' in here." He joked; who would be stealing from a hardware store? "It really is no trouble, you look like you could use it really. Where ya coming from, hm?-" It was obvious, his ride had left him there. He knew darn well whatever the young male's problem was also, it was far from pocketing a couple of nails or wood-glue to go. The fight was still obvious, across his features. "The names Drayton, Drayton Sawyer, An'you are?--" A hand soon extended, he offered it for a shake.Â
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Clyde had thrown himself around in a panic, a flurry. They hadn't known what to do. Stepping into the old farmhouse a few days or so ago, he hadn't expected to step into a whirlwind of horrors. In fact, it had seemingly taken them a long, long amount of time to fully realize, and to put it all together. The horror, the bones. Their stomach had twisted in knots, and they had tried to run. That had been the worst decision of their life, all in all. Running, had made Bubba--, the others, realize whst was up. No longer was he a guest, but someone they needed to kill before their damn, little legs would run them all the way back to town. They had seen things, they had stories to tell. It had sent the family into a whopping mix of fighting, and arguing. Bickering, on what to do, how to handle it all.Â
Chop top, the brothers at first considering the newfound hitchhiker more like a friend, though they couldn't fully show nor admit it in front of Drayton. It made killing them a bit harder than it needed to be, much like how they had ended up with-- Chris. Not that neither of them were one to complain, they didn't have many to talk to around their parts. Everything was very much so abandoned, and long deserted by a few years around where they lived, besides their brother's gas station. They didn't have 'friends', yet here they were. From conversations that lasted hours, sometimes they were a bit guiltyof getting attached to the victims. Nonetheless, killing them only if really needed. When it came to their safety, and the others catching glimpses of things they weren't supposed to see-- They didn't haven't much hesitation, they couldn't.
Chris had been A 'friend' of the Sawyer family for a few, long hefty weeks now. Once a victim, now a force to be reckoned with at the old home. Chop top's 'faaaaaveee', as he would come to joke. Because of the blonde and his relations to his family, the factor of his uncle-- killing him had fallen out of the picture quite quickly. More than their oldest brother would've liked it to, and in a sense it had been karma at it's finest on the Sawyers' end. Many excuses, many moments of going back and forth later had ended him a semi permanent spot on the family's old, rustic farm home with little to no choice, or thought to it. It wasn't something they minded, like the obvious, they truly did enjoy the company and the sense of having a friend around.Â
Someone, anyone was more than having nothing, and definitely more tovtjem than the bodies that were left littering around. With Chris being stuck there, also, it hadn't taken long for him to soon become victim to the Sawyers and their ways, and that includes their killing and their butchering. The blonde hadn't been forced into it, but the action itself had been there, right in his face. It was unavoidable, and something that was constantly happening at the home, it seemed. They kept their meat, and most of their dirty work when it came down to it, downstairs within the bloodied walls of the basement. Where Bubba worked.
They picked up their victims from all sorts of places, and in the most wildest of ways, much like to how they came across, and met Chris himself. They scooped up hitchhikers, took visitors upon themselves on over, from Drayton's gas station, when the time felt right. That was how they met Clyde, like many and most, though towards the time when it had came down to butchering them, getting them in the freezer, the brunette had given up too much of a fight. They had bit Chop Top's hand, and had gone scrambling, running around the house. It was always easy to tell when they were killing someone, the screams always filling the halls of the home, this time being no different except for the exception of the Vietnam Sawyers slippery grasp.Â
They couldn't keep up with Clyde, and it was almost useless and stupid for Bubba to get his chainsaw out. Nonetheless, the sound of it being revved could be heard, and the harsh sound of pittering pattering feet had came dashing across the hard, dirty floor. Chris had been glued, and stuck in the kitchen at the time, and even if he'd had enough time to act-- There hadn't been much time to think, to do much of anything right then. Trusted with the help, and aid of being by Drayton's side, helping him cut up vegetables-- meat, he was allowed simple moments of free roam, compared to most. Trust, that most didn't have with the Sawyers. It was a big accomplishment, all in all.
It had been almost dinnertime, and when the yelling had started abruptly, it was most likely the other had attempted at escape, or had caused a hassle for the brothers; being kept in the upstairs room for god knows how long was more than enough to turn them buck wild. They were like a crazed animal, and when they had escaped and squeezed past the siblings, he had came running downstairs, around the home much like a mouse would be, getting chased around the house. Panting, breathing-- harsh, the brunette's eyes were w I d e and glazed over with fear, terror. Doors, locked, Windows shut-- There was no way out and a long time ago, the Sawyers had proven it all as such, the home almost being set up to be like some trap, for the victims and no one else of course. Once they stepped in, much like a spider and their tangled web, they were stuck in there. There, forever.
Clyde had been fluttering around, their hands trying to tug on doorknobs, scrape at ledges. He felt a bit hopeless, and every moment made him feel more, and more like a lost cause--, their next meal, and nothing more. They had to keep moving around, running-- and they were getting to the point where they..couldn't run fully, entirely anymore. Their legs were tired, their hands were tired. The hitchhiker was t i r e d, and they didn't know what to do. Giving up, meaning nothing else but death. It truly felt like being trapped, kept in a slaughterhouse much like some pig, some animal for slaughter. When he had came scurrying around, Clyde had came stumbling into the kitchen soon enough, the thought of the back door, soon popping in their mind. They could hide in the cabinets, or maybe break out that way, with enough time given to them. "A-ah--"
Shuttering, huffing shakily, coming around the corner-- It hadn't taken long for them to collide, and smash right into Chris soon enough. Running into him, and sending much of the items for tonight's dinner in the air, and on the ground. More panic, filled their gaze. Another person, another--human. Just how many other siblings lived in the home? "O-oh-- I'm s--" They didn't know what to say, what to do, bracing themselves for the worst and cowering somewhat like a injured animal, before trying to attempt to duck underneath Chris, and to rush around, and aside from them. Chris-- At first, he hadn't recognized them. It was hard to, while he found himself running for his life. They had taken him as another one of the Sawyers, one of the brothers and hadn't been able to give him much more than a second glance, they didn't have the time.
Clyde was hopeless, and a chicken with their head cut off. Never, had a victim of the Sawyers ever escaped really before, and n e v e r had one really talked to Chris, let alone asked for h e l p. "Please-- you have to help me--" The brunette croaked out, whimpering almost under their breath. One of their hands, covered in old blood from scurrying around, had grabbed their wrist shakily. "Please, you have to hide me, something-- They're going to e a t me!--"