//

NATE RETURNED THE CADILLAC TO THE CHECK RESIDENCE BEFORE WALKING HOME BY FOOT. His house was empty due to his mom working a late shift.

He hurriedly got to his room, plopping on the bed as he called Casey, holding the phone to his ear, begging for her to pick up.

After a few rings, Casey's tired voice came through. "Oh. Hey, handsome."

Nate sighed. "Oh, thank fuck, you're there."

"What's wrong?" Casey asked.

"Jonathan's gone," Nate answered in a panic. "He ran off with that rock band, and Melody Lane burned down."

He heard shuffling before her voice came through, now clear signaling she was okay. "What? You're okay, right?"

Nate rubbed his forehead. "Uh, yeah. But there was this huge stampede, and all the people that fainted got run over, and you could hear their bones breaking. And the people-like, the people on fire just smelled like..." he trailed off, shutting his eyes, trying to block it out. "Fuck, I can't stop seeing it. This is crazy. Jonathan's still with those creeps. They took him in their creepy-ass van with the windows all blacked out."

"Did you get the make and model or...?" Casey asked.

"I don't fucking know, Case," Nate nearly snapped. "An '89 Rapist? He's still in there. We have to go find him."

"Who cares about Jonathan and those douche bags...People just burned to death," Casey replied.

Nate was about to say something else until the doorbell went off, making him jump with a gasp. "Oh, shit. There's somebody here!"

"Are you alone?" Casey asked.

"Yeah," Nate answered, glancing through his bedroom window to see who it was but he couldn't see anyone.

"Where is your mom?"

"Swing shift," Nate answered, stepping out of his room.

"Stay on the phone with me, okay?" Casey told him. "I'll go to the home line just in case something's wrong."

Nate walked downstairs before slowly approaching the front door, his hand curling around the handle as it felt like his lungs were constricting in panic.

"Nate?" Casey spoke through the phone.

Nate turned the handle and quickly pulled the door open before sighing in relief. "Okay, so now there's no one here," he said. "That's so strange. I'm fucking losing it. It's probably nothing. Look, I'll call you later."

He hung up, phone in hand as he closed the door but he heard what sounded like shuffling behind him causing him to turn around.

Nothing was there.

He placed his phone down near the door before picking up a metal candlestick from the shelf he placed his phone on.

He clutched the metal candlestick in his hand, raising it like a weapon before slowly entering the kitchen area.

He huffed as he realized he just left the back door open.

He pushed it closed, locking the door before turning around to which he let out a small scream at the sight.

There was Jonathan Check standing before him. His glasses were missing, his sweater and jacket were ripped but he was covered in, what Nate could only assume to be, blood but it was unknown if it was someone else's or his own. But it was dripping on the kitchen tile floor.

"Jonathan?" Nate quietly uttered. "What happened?" He got no response. "Johnny? Why are you coated in blood?"

Nothing. Jonathan only turned his lips up into a smile then a toothy grin which was the same maroon color as the one that stained his skin.

Jonathan turned away, opening the fridge before crouching down, grabbing a small package, dropping it on the floor before tearing into it with his fingers and shoving it in his mouth.

It only made Jonathan's lips and chin more bloody as he chewed since this food was very raw uncooked steak but he kept chewing as if he hadn't eaten in months.

Nate slowly kneeled in front of his front. "Um, that's, like, really raw. It'll make you sick if you-" he began.

Jonathan let out an animal-like roar at Nate before he began to gag, choking as the meat feel out of his mouth.

Suddenly, Jonathan began to vomit, coating Nate's knees in it but what made Nate jump away to stand is at the fact that isn't normal vomit. It was black, almost as he threw up a tar-like substance.

Once Jonathan finished, Nate glanced at the vomit that seemed to shine and spike up as if were made from needles.

The black vomit coated his lips but Jonathan was unbothered as he just smiled and began to hysterically laugh.

Nate walked around the vomit, standing beside, crouching beside Jonathan, grabbing his face. "Jonathan? Johnny?" he questioned, he moved his hand to grab Jonathan's arm but when he held his arm up, he noticed something like stab wounds going around his chest and around his rib cage. "Jon..." he mumbled. He stood up, backing away. "Fuck this. I'm calling an ambulance and I'm calling your mom."

He rushed to the living room, grabbing his phone, dialing 911 but before he could press the green icon, he was gripped by the shoulders, painfully shoved hard into the wall nearby by Jonathan making him gasp and drop his phone.

Nate could feel warm Jonathan's breath on his neck as his hands roamed his chest over the shirt to his shoulder but Nate didn't dare to move as he took in shaky breaths.

He was paralyzed with fear.

Jonathan's teeth barely grazed the skin near Nate's ear as he spoke in a very low tone, "Are you scared?"

Staying silent, Nate forced his eyes shut, only nodding.

Jonathan pulled his lips back in a snarl, his teeth grazing the nape of Nate's neck before pausing, his lips just brushing Nate's skin before he growled, almost in frustration.

Jonathan gripped Nate by the shoulders, shoving and slamming him into the threshold of the kitchen, hard.

His back was throbbing as Nate slid down to the floor and Jonathan backed away towards the door as sirens could be heard from a distance outside.

Still breathing heavily, Nate called one last time, "Jonathan!"

But Jonathan Check opened the door and left Nate's home, slamming the door closed, leaving the Nate Lesnicky to sit and process what happened as tears stung his eyes.

***