??????????

He never thought his body could force so much stamina in him during one single night. He's been running and hiding for hours, how many hours? He has no fucking clue whatsoever. At first, he was keeping track of the twenty-four countdown, but now, he's been too busy counting the bullets in his clip, and making sure which ones are his self-made wood bullets and which ones are the normal.

"Go! Go! Go!" He yells at Tara as the two of them bolt it down the hallway, having lost their original position due to being outsmarted. You would expect their shoes to lose the sole and slip off from under their feet. 

"Where the fuck are we going this time?"

"Just keep running!" The man, who was chosen to have the name T-Bag for this obvious trap called a job, orders as he shoves Tara's head forward to prevent her from going farther than she should be.

The hallway seems endless, like they're in the mirror zone or something. Or maybe time has subconsciously changed for him the second he stepped foot in this haunted ass place. That would be a cruel joke for a demon to play, wouldn't it? The demon purposefully slowing down time for the seven gullible fools who thought it this would be the most harmless of harmless jobs. 

That's what should've clued him in on how stupid this was in the first place, because it was too good to be true.

Eventually, the that narrow space he remembered earlier and straight up pushes Tara into it, shutting the door behind them in a purposefully loud manner. He's trying to set another trap, a last-second one at best, but the only option left to at least survive the rest of time they got left so they're employer who probably set this thing up in the first place can hopefully give them a quicker death.

"Here." T-Bag frantically goes through his inventory, handing a panicking Tara the last wooden stab tool he has left for this little game plan of theirs. "I stun her, you stake her, alright?" He instructs as reloads his double-barreled shotgun. After checking, he sees that he doesn't have many wooden shells left, so all he can insert into the wholes are the red and gold ones, but he's sure that they will at least still blow it back far enough to make its head. Yes, he's calling that thing an it, there's no other gender to assign that monster.

"This is not going to work..." Tara whispers with a shake of her head, causing the guy to roll his eyes, irritated.

"Don't give me that shit! Just focus and get ready for when it comes around, okay?!" T-Bag harshly hisses at her with a face saying that she better fucking do it unless she wants to know what it's like being ripped from the inside-out. Tara tearfully glares at him but eventually nods as the two then slightly crouch, getting in a perfect spot to catch their pursuer off-guard.

The silence could kill a mouse, maybe a hundred. This could be considered one of those moments where time would just stop for them, just the nocturnal wind blowing against the windows that have been covered by frames which block them inside, while they're crouching around having sweat flow down their brows which could arguably give away their position, with how much internal screaming they carry.

Eventually, there's a small creek sound coming nearby, footsteps applying pressure on the wood so close that their ears makes it feel like it's screaming at the presence of a headless horseman. And so, they tighten their grip on their weapons as they wait for the door to open right in front of them, where they plan to attack from the side.

However, what happens instead is a hole suddenly getting punched through the ceiling, and Tara being sucked up through it with a loud scream. T-Bag yelps and frantically steps back from it as he hears a loud crunch, soon followed by blood pouring down the open hole like a bucket of water, mixed with some guts and a heart slapping against the puddle for good measure. Then the body itself drops down, and it looks Thanos used the gauntlet snapped her body in half vertically.

T-Bag rapidly blinks before re-grabbing his gun, not sure what he's going to do with it but knows that he's going to do something. Eventually, the monster hops down from the hole, it's feet splashing on the blood puddle it just created. He points his shotgun at the son of a bitch, ready to pull the trigger while it just stares down at him.

And eventually, he does.....

Blowing his own brains out.

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