I quickly scrambled up as I watched his glowing red eyes stare at me. He hadn't moved, not in a while. He just sat, bloodstained, over the remains of Saul. I slowly backed up. He was up in a flash. I slowly took a step back. He followed suit. Every time I stepped back, he would follow me. I tripped over a figure which groaned. I looked down to see the man from before, both smiling and grimacing. I stepped on his neck as he yelled.
"Tell me how to reverse it," I said frantically.
He shook his head, making me stomp harder. He bellowed louder than a ship's horn. "You may already be dying, but that doesn't mean I can't still cause you pain."
He looked at me, eyes bulging out, and croaked two words. "Next...stanza..." He screamed again and fell limply to the floor. I turned to Brandon, still smiling, still motionless. Great, I thought, what a time to be dyslexic. I remembered that day, the day Brandon showed me the book.
"This was my mother's favorite poem," he had said. I couldn't quite remember what he had read, and my mind couldn't work fast enough. I groaned furiously, looking down in anger, only to look up and find him three steps closer. Stalking the prey, I thought, he wants to hunt and feel excitement. I knew that the only way I could get out of the mill alive was to keep my eye contact. I had to memorize the landscape of the mill and keep my eyes on him, or he'd tear my body apart.
Slowly, but surely, I began to move. I crept along the hall, using my sun as landmarks. I could remember the position of every one, and so I walked rather easily. Brandon still kept his distance, but I could see him clearly in the sun again. He look torn up. His eyes were now a pure red, the whites of his eyes bloodstained. He had blood wrapped all around his body, and his smile was toothier and more crooked than I had hoped for.
I was so lost in my friend's transformation that I did not notice the crates behind me. Meaning, I tripped and fell on my back.
In an instance, he was upon me, sword raised. I was barely able to roll out of the way of his sword. He jumped up and began a furious onslaught on me, whirling and slashing like a hurricane. I could barely keep up with him. Luckily, we were in a narrow hallway, so he could not perform hit and runs. We backed up slowly to the entrance, where we had left our duffel bags. At that moment, Brandon flicked his wrist, deflecting my blade and sending it flying to the other side of the room. He pushed me down onto the floor. I crept backwards as my life flashed before my eyes. As I reached my blade, suddenly, I found the words in my mouth.
"The boy born of darkness and light,
The savaging man in the field,
Killing the young and the lost,
All victims would fall to his blade."
He lunged at me, and after several trades, I deflected his blade. However, his eyes were so sinister that I could not feel reassured by that small victory. Nevertheless, I continued.
"And finally, as the dawn came,
And the boy settled down for the night,
He saw what, really, he was,
And. from that, he saw little gain."
Suddenly, miraculously, Brandon closed his eyes. When he opened them a moment later, I saw their familiar dark brown. He looked at me in bewilderment, then stared at his clothes, now bathed in a scarlet rain. He looked back at me. "Ashley..."
I jumped up and pointed my sword at his neck. "No! Stay back!"
He raised his arms in alarm. His face had paled tremendously. "No, Ashley, please don't." He dropped to the floor, begging. "That wasn't me. You know it."
He tried to grab onto my coat. I screamed and kicked him away. "Get away from me, you psycho. You-you-you monster!"
He looked at me as I backed up and grabbed the duffel bags. He finally broke down, kneeling, looking at me with the pathetic face of a puppy. I felt tears come to my eyes.
"I guess this is who you really are, Brandon," I said hollowly, "I can't believe I had never seen the real you before today." I turned and sprinted out into a blizzard. Specks of snow circled around me as I ran away from the pleas still coming from the mill: "Please, Ashley, come back."
After lots of wandering, I stumbled across a sheltering rock and slipped under it, panting. I put my face into my knees as I let my emotions take control. My friend, my best friend, the one who would listen to me, the one who would stop bullies, was a psychopath, a brutal killing machine. After all the time we spent together, he had never warned me of what he was. I was able to, eventually, sob myself into my dreams.
________________________________________________________________________________
"Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods..." I said, grabbing at my hair, staring into the snowstorm. The blizzard had covered her tracks, so I had no idea as to where she was. "What did I do? Oh gods..." I looked around; there wasn't anything to see though, as the snow obscured my vision. I let my tears roll down my cheeks as I waded through the snow, without supplies, without a weapon, and without my friend
