The Eighty-Seventh Face

Alone. Finally, no parents, no little brother, and no distractions for a few, precious hours. I had been eagerly waiting for the rest of my family to leave to Presque Isle for my brother’s birthday, and it was something he had been bugging me about for weeks on end. I could not have asked for more at the moment. I switched on the T.V. to give my tiny home, now empty of all sound, a little bit of noise and company.

It was 3:30 in the afternoon at the moment, and I plopped myself on to my rather fluffy couch. My laptop waiting for me, I opened it up to realize that I had left Facebook open, which was not a great idea at my home, with a little brother and all. The internet connection was always sucky here, as we lived in an unorganized territory in northern Maine called Twin Pine Township. Discouraged by its less than stellar speed, I closed the laptop, the noise being simultaneous with a familiar knock on the door.

It was Anthony!

I walked to the door to see my father’s childhood friend standing their with a smile on his bearded face. His black hair was neatly combed, and his facial hair extended from his sideburns to his chin, with a little bit on his upper lip as well. He was wearing his usual aviators, and a shirt that read “Five Island Land Company”. Even though I wanted to spend the night alone, I let Anthony in anyhow.

“How are you doing, Kelly?” he asked me in his rather crackly, but friendly voice. He took a seat in our living room.

“I’m doing good.” I replied. Anthony and my father had been friends since third grade, and he had been with my family during good times and bad since then. The bearded man sat quietly for a minute looking out the window, and then, suddenly, started to stare at me. I actually could not tell if he was looking at me or not, due to his blacked out aviators. I felt a bit uneasy, not being able to see where he was looking and all.

“How’s your father doing, hun?” he asked.

“Good. He went out with mom and Davie to Presque Isle. Davie wanted to go to the mall for his birthday.”

“That’s nice,” he said in a voice that eventually went from a conversational volume to a low whisper. A big smile slowly cracked on his face, one that seemed very sinister to me. The uneasiness worsened a little bit.

After continuing his uncertain stare for another 30 seconds or so, he gradually arose from his chair, stepped over to the couch, and took a seat next to me, his aviators still pointed in my direction. I was beginning to feel extremely uncomfortable, and in turn, I started to shake and sweat a little bit.

“You alright Kelly?,” he inquired, “You seem very tense and uptight, hun.” His grin began to expose his teeth. To my surprise, they were extremely yellow and rotten looking. The shaking and sweating cranked up a notch.

Anthony shuffled across the couch, all the way to the point where our bodies were touching. I could feel the unnerving chill of his presence, and the racing of his heartbeat. My body could not move, I was so shocked.

“Anthony?” I asked in a trembling and soft voice, “w-w-what are you doing?

Almost instantly, his arm shot around me, and he started to stroke and caress my left arm with his cold, boney hand. I was starting to feel very violated, and tried to mouth the words “stop it”, but I was too confused to do so. Anthony was my friend, was he not?

Suddenly, he did the same thing to my other arm, and then extended his caressing and touching to my upper leg, until both his hands lay directly on my abdominal cavity, moving upwards, not stopping anytime soon. I began to struggle vigorously, but his grip on me only tightened.

“Stop it!” I screamed, “Stop!”. But he did not stop.

In the midst of all this, I bit his hand extremely hard as it approached my neck. I could taste the sensation of Iron in my mouth as Anthony quickly removed his hand from the clutches of my teeth with a loud yelp. His expression went from smiley to absolutely angry as he looked at his lacerated hand.

Almost instantly, his hands lunged toward my neck, as he took me into a choke hold. I could feel my windpipe closing in as Anthony’s clutch tightened. He stood up, and brought me toward him. Struggling for breath, I started to feel light headed.

“Alright, if that’s how you want to do things!” he yelled in a voice not his own. It was deep and intimidating.

I tried so desperately to scream, to make the slightest sound, but I could not. Tears began to stream down my face as Anthony lifted me up by the neck with all his gruesome might. He flashed a knife out of his pocket, a tiny, but deadly little weapon. My eyes widened at the horrid sight.

Instantly, he tackled me to the ground, and let go of his grip on my neck. I gasped for air, vomiting in the process. Anthony’s body weight kept me down on the ground, as I struggled to get up, rolling into my own vomit in the midst of the jostle.

After a few minutes of trying to secure me to the ground, Anthony pulled out his knife, and muttered something that sounded like “number 87”, and penetrated it deep into my arm. My screams and yelps reached their maximum volume, the pain was so unbearable.

''“Stop it!! Stop it Anthony!! Stop!!!”'' I shrieked as he continued carving through my arm. Blood gushed out of the open wound he was crafting, his smile becoming even bigger. The last thing I saw before blacking out was Anthony’s eyes. His deceiving sunglasses had fallen off, revealing his extremely dilated pupils, and the bulky, blood filled vessels connected to them.


 * Emergency Alert System Transcript (Issued 6/1/11 at 7:00 P.M. EST on all public stations)

<< The following message has been transmitted at the request of the Maine State Police Missing Persons Unit and the Maine Warden Service. A child abduction emergency has been issued for all of Aroostook County and northern Penobscot County. At around 3:55 Eastern Standard Time, a teenage girl was taken from her home in Twin Pine Township. The girl is 15 year old Kelly Belfleur. She is five foot six inches tall, weighs 120 pounds, has strawberry blonde hair, hazel eyes, and white skin. She was last seen wearing blue jeans, a blue plaid button up shirt, and clogs. The captor’s car is believed to be a 2003 Honda Accord with Rhode Island license plates. The captor is a white male, and is predicted to be six foot one inches. Kelly is believed to be in danger. If you have any information, please call 9-11 or the Aroostook County sheriff’s office at 780-438-5522. Again, that is 780-438-5522. Do not take action which could further endanger your safety, or the safety of the abducted child. >>

The first thing I felt was the moist, slimy ground. I rolled around with my eyes still closed, utterly confused. This was not home, not even close. Just then, I remembered what had happened back at home. The screams and cries of agony replayed themselves, traumatizing me. My eyes shot open immediately.

Surrounding me was complete darkness, one that could not be pierced by human eyesight. My heart began to race, and the air going through me began to travel at a faster pace. I became terrified, realizing where I was. This is just a dream, I reassured myself, just a dream. But that just was not the case.



As my eyesight adjusted, I noticed that the forest was thick and unending. The trees towered imperially over my tiny body, and there were some shorter ones that had bent to create arc-like shapes. A feeling of absolute aloneness shot me, and I began to panic. Sweat dripped down my forehead, and I grew incredibly nauseous. This was all real, one could not question its authenticity. Anthony must have placed me here, in the middle of the woods, but why? Tears began to slip out of my eyes as I finally realized someone who my family had come to trust and love had put me into this horrible ordeal.

Suddenly, a highly metallic and bloodcurdling sound echoed through the wilderness. It sounded like the bending of a thick sheet of metal, or the switching on of a power tool, but in a deep, unnerving tone. The hairs on my arms rose, my pupils dilated, and I began to take quick, short breaths. My body quickly shot upright, preparing itself to run. As I got up, my head nudged a soft, lifeless entity suspended above me.

Completely fear struck, my head slowly looked up. I could not make out what exactly it was at first, but then, I realized what it was. My mouth burst open, and a loud scream escaped. Again, I vomited all over the ground, completely revolted.

Hanging above me, was the body of a little girl. She was dead, obviously, but, she had sustained severe compound fractures on her legs and arms. Her femurs were protruding out of her thighs, and the bones in her lower arms were doing the same thing. They had been snapped in two, like a twig.

As I advanced my gaze upward, the most repulsive part of her came into view. The girl’s face had been cut off, and in it’s place was a colony of maggots, eating away at her bit by bit. Through the darkness, one could barely make out her rotting brain matter, almost hanging out of her head.

Immediately, I bolted. I did not care where I ran, I just wanted to be as far away from this insanity as possible. The forest never came to a stop though. I kept running and running, looking backwards from time to time to see if I was being followed, but the forest continued. Not being able to see three feet in front of me, I would run into small trees and branches along the way. Numerous cuts and bruises materialized on my face and arms.

Ten minutes passed, and I was still speeding through the woods. Finally, I came to a stop, not being able to sprint any longer. I sat down, trying to make sense of the gore I had encountered back where my nightmare had begun. Not being able to take it anymore, I absolutely broke down. One could hear my cries for miles. I wanted to be home, with my parents and Davie. I should’ve gone with them, I should’ve gone with them! Davie wanted me to go with him so bad, and I just stayed home, not caring or anything! ''He was so sad that I wouldn’t come, and now I’m going to die here, alone, in these woods! ''I could picture my little brother now, breaking down too at the thought of his sister’s disappearance.

As my hopeless grieving continued, I picked up a distant rustling in the woods. It was very faint, and it seemed to be growing louder, and louder, and louder. I sat there for a mere 30 seconds, absolutely still, listening. It stopped, abruptly, leaving me hanging. Still sitting, I propped myself up, continuing to look into the direction of the never ending brush. Maybe I’m just hearing things, I thought to myself. I was very paranoid after all.

Instantly, the silence broke with the sound of sprinting and crackling leaves. At this moment, I realized that the thing that had probably been stalking me was very, very close. I picked up the sound of heavy breathing, and almost instantly jumped into the thicket beside me. And then I saw him.

Out of the brush jumped Anthony. He was barely visible in the darkness, as the man must have changed into darker clothes. His breathing was very strenuous, and it was accompanied with an occasional wheeze. He smelt of blood and perspiration. I held my breath to stay unnoticed.

“Where is that bitch?” he muttered in his deep, intimidating voice.

His head was turning left and right vigorously, as if he were being followed as well. Without warning, it stopped, and he was staring right at me. Slowly, Anthony trudged right towards my hiding place, his hand reaching into his pocket, and grabbing another knife. This one had to be eight inches long, and was heavily serrated on both sides. My shaking became uncontrollable, and I began to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from yelping.

As his body came closer to mine, I could not help but notice Anthony’s face. It looked so much more youthful than it had when he was at the house. He lacked his beard, and his nose was much smaller. That was all I could make out in the darkness.

Unanticipatingly, the man stopped inching his way closer. We were still gazing at each other, waiting for one or the other to make a move. It was a mental standoff. If I screamed or made one sudden movement, I would be dead. If he lunged towards my hiding place, I would be dead. This was a hopeless situation, and I was starting to lose it.

Anthony chuckled to himself. It was a short, faint laugh, but it let me know he was aware of my presence in the woods. Like a horse in the night, he sprinted back the direction he came.

This move puzzled me very much. ''Why didn’t he just lunge into the bushes and nab me? I thought. ''If I followed him, I would be as good as dead, and if I went deeper in the woods, I would become even more lost. My unstable emotional and mental state at the moment kept me from following Anthony. I would not go through what I went through back home again, the touching and the carving. Home, I thought, I want to be home. ''Why is it I have to go through this? It’s not fair! I did nothing to deserve this! Nothing!''

Finally, after sorting through thoughts of homesickness, fear, disgust, and grief, I pulled myself together, knowing that if I just sat here, I would die of starvation and dehydration. At the thought of food and water, my stomach began to rumble. I had not eaten for hours, nor drank anything either. Out of fear, I dismissed my thoughts of hunger and thirst for now, and made a break for it through the thicket once again.

I could not continue running for more than three minutes. I had to sit down and rest for a minute or so before going again. Dehydration and hunger had certainly taken their toll on me. My head began to ache, my mouth became dry, and I started to feel lightheaded. I went from sprinting, to jogging, and then to walking. My senses began to play tricks on me, displaying shadows out of the corner of my eye, and picking up sounds that were nonexistent. Exhaustion began to kick in, to the point where I could not stand up anymore.

As I hobbled through the darkness, my foot caught a root on the ground, tripping me right on to my stomach. I laid there, breathing heavily, and struggling to lift myself up. But it was no use, as the best I could do was use my hands to drag myself across the wet and leafy forest floor.

I crawled, and crawled, getting nowhere fast. Thoughts of impending doom began to cross my mind. You’re going to die, Kelly, they rang.'' He’s going to stab you with that knife and rip your organs out with it. It’s no use fleeing.'' I began to cry at the thought of this, but no tears came out.

As my suffering continued, my eye caught something in the distance. It looked like a lake, with beautiful, clear water filling it. On noticing this, I scrambled towards it, going as fast as I could with just my hands dragging me along. Finally, I reached the attractive water I had desired so much. For the first time, I felt hopeful in these hopeless woods.

Without hesitating, I dunked my head into the water, gulping everything I could. The water felt so pleasurable going down my throat. A smile cracked on my face, knowing that I might be okay, and that Anthony might not kill me after all.

As I drank, I felt a barely noticeable texture in my mouth, one that felt like a fish, but was very squishy. It started to struggle and squirm even more, finally finding a resting place on my tongue. At the same moment, I began to feel at least four repeats of the previous sensation. Just noticing this, I cocked my head, looking over the bog in front of me.

''Wait a minute? Bog!? I had been drinking out of a bog!?'' Terror struck once again, I blinked twice to realize that I had been getting water out of a muddy, grassy, sorry excuse for a pond. Apparently hunger, exhaustion, and dehydration had made me hallucinate. Panicked about what I had just drank, I threw it all back up. But the squirming sensation in my mouth, however, had not stopped. And then it hit me.

Slowly, I opened my mouth, my shaking hand reaching slowly inside to find out whatever was in there. I plucked something sticky and saturated off the inside of my cheek, and hesitantly, removed it.

Between my two fingers, was a black, contorting, invertebrate. I stopped breathing for a second, and picked another one out, and another one, and another one. Now, I had stop breathing completely, because in my mouth was about ten leeches. I tried to scream, but the environment surrounding me began to cave in, sending me into another hallucination spell. I immediately fainted.

The sensation of mud, aquatic plants, and dirty water immersed my body. Immediately, I woke up in the bog, struggling to keep myself up since my feet were not touching the bottom. My swimming ability was next to nothing, and I flailed my way through, the leeches still in my mouth. I could feel the little creatures, swimming around me and attaching themselves as I pushed forward. From just feeling, my arms were covered in them. Many were crawling into my shirt and pants, trying to find a bare place to feed. Blood loss started to get the best of me, and I began to sink under, into the blackness of the unknown. This was it.

As I bobbed up and down in the middle of the disgusting bog, I started to feel a hand on my shoulder, trying to grab on to me. Thinking of it as another leech, I frantically struggled to get away from it. It kept coming at me though, until it took my hand. Reality hit me as it yanked me up from the isolation of the submerged world. Maybe I was being saved. Maybe searchers had found me. As I surfaced, another hand took my second hand, and I looked up at my savior for the first time.

“Hi there, Kelly,” he said with a sinister chuckle.

My tormentor dragged me up on to a metal boat. I looked up at Anthony, expecting to see the same, evil, face, but there was a horrifying oddity.

It was not his face.

I blacked out.


 * Excerpt from Anthony Anderson’s Journal:

May 28, 2011 5:14 P.M.

Finally, I got the little bastard! He put up one helluva a fight, and it was quite touching to watch him try to rescue his sister. It was even more touching that he was fighting for nothing, since his sister was as good as dead. I made him watch, yes. I made him watch his sister go through the process. The screams and the tears from both of them were so beautiful. If dad were there with me, he would’ve been so proud, and I know it! He would’ve loved me even more! I’ve kept the boy and numbered him, the annoyance he is. I threw him in the basement, and he has not made a sound since. It’s incredibly rare that I catch a teenage boy of such physical strength, and bring him down to his knees so quickly. He will surely be a great addition to my collection. I’m running low on supplies, so I need to go back into town. Number 86 will have to wait until my return to get his share of things. I also have an idea for my next child. The Belfleurs are going out on the first, and their daughter might be staying home for the occasion. I’ve been waiting so long to get my hands on this one.

I woke up from my slumber, finally being able to see seven feet in front of me for the first time. It was still late at night, and maybe even early morning, but the darkness still loomed in the sky. My initial fears of Anthony instantly rushed back into my mind, only to remember that he had caught me back in that repulsive bog. My tongue brushed the inside of my mouth to realize that the leeches were gone. They also must have been plucked off the remainder of my body, as it was free of leeches as well. A sigh of relief followed this sensation, but there was really nothing to be relieved about at the moment.

As my senses improved, I found out that I was tied to a tree. I was not tied on so tight that I was struggling for breath, but my body would not be moving anywhere anytime soon. Flailing around helped loosen the ropes up a small bit, but the difference was barely noticeable.

The area around me was illuminated by eight propane lamps. They constituted a large circle, and it was probably 15 feet in diameter, at least. On the far left side of the circle was a small, abandoned hunting camp, being a typical sight in the northern woods of Maine. It was poorly constructed of what looked liked rotting two-by-fours. My tree was almost directly in the center of this ominous shape, but something else was there. Not something though, someone.

It was a boy. He looked about my age, was wearing blue jeans, and a grey hoodie. The boy was missing his shoes, oddly, and was strapped to what looked like an old military cot, just like I was to the tree. His face was visibly pale, and he stared up at the night sky, like a lonely, and broken soul. Surprisingly, he was bald, but instead of hair on his head, was dried up blood. It popped up in patches on his skull, showing that he may have been a victim of torture.

The hopeless condition of the boy a few feet in front of me deeply disturbed and depressed me. He was obviously a victim of violence, and from our scenario at the moment, it had to have been Anthony’s violence. Never in my life had I been angry before, but the emotions of hatred of Anthony, and pure grief for this boy, took the front seat in my consciousness. The tears came flowing out immediately.

As I cried, he turned his head towards me. Sensing my grief, the boy tried to word something. He could not speak, so I tried to read his lips. I just barely made out the words “he killed my sister”.

The dead girl hanging from the tree, I thought, was that her? Petrified by the image of the child, I became even more fearful of Anthony would do to her brother.

The leaves started to crack and crunch in the woods. He was coming. Walking casually over to the boy, was Anthony. For the first time, I saw him in full light, and screamed so loud, someone had to have heard me, if people were searching for us.

On Anthony’s face, was a complete embodiment of inhumanity, an image that produced pure insanity. It was the face of a what looked to be youthful, freckled, little girl, perfectly preserved. The masterfully removed layer of skin, muscle, and bone had been stretched to fit Anthony’s own face. The mandible just dangled in the air, lifelessly, and was free of any teeth. The eyes, or what used to be the eyes, were widened to give the wearer a better view of their surroundings. It was put on like a ski mask, the whole backside of Anthony’s head and neck being covered with what looked to be a thick layer of reused muscle, still bloody from when it was retrieved.

“Hello, kids,” he said, cracking a faintly visible smile behind his mask, “so we’re finally meeting ‘face to face’, I see?”

He snickered at his gruesome joke. It infuriated me, but my mouth stayed wide open, still trying to swallow this man’s insanity. He was mad, absolutely mad.

Anthony paced towards the cot, keeping his eyes locked on the boy. As the madman walked towards him, he just kept his gaze towards the stars. As soon as he was at the foot of the cot, Anthony grabbed the boy’s head with his boney hand, and pulled his head in towards the man’s own.

“This is what you get for trying to rat me out, you son of a bitch!” Anthony raised his free hand, and whacked the boy on the cheek. His gaze still directed upwards, he began to make a faint moan.

“You think you can be all heroic and come to rescue your sister, right? You thought you’d make it out alive, correct? Look at yourself now kid,” he said in his deep and unsettling voice, “stuck to a cot, mute, and driven to the state of a pure coward. There is no such thing as a hero in the face of pain. You are a true coward, kid. You came thinking everything was going to be okay, right? Now, look at my face!”

The boy just kept looking up into the sky, ignoring Anthony’s command completely. Suddenly, I saw the man begin to shake violently. He began to force the boy’s head around, a look of pain striking the kid’s face as Anthony did it. In a matter of seconds, their eyes were locked.

“Look your sister in the eye, you little fucker,” he continued, his voice now monstrous and demonic, “you are the reason I am wearing her face today, Number 86! And now, I will have yours!”

After hearing him call the boy “Number 86”, a memory flashed back. It was of Anthony, cutting my arm with his knife, crafting something. I looked at my left arm, free from the coils of rope wrapped around me. On it, was a visible, scabbed over, number 87. That is when I came to the conclusion. Anthony had killed 85 other people, and was going to kill his 86th in a minute.

Slowly, Anthony dug up something in the ground. I could not see what it was at first, as his body was blocking it. He turned around, showing me the bloody, pus covered jigsaw in his hand.

“You see this Kelly?” he asked with a snicker, “You’re next, hun!”

With that, he turned the wretched device on, making the same metallic sound I had heard in the woods when I woke up, and slammed it into the boy’s left arm, cutting through his skin. Blood, skin, and muscle splattered everywhere, even on to Anthony’s shirt, but he did not mind it one bit. The boy’s mouth was wide open, as he was trying to scream. It was as though the alone feeling of the forest swallowed his cries of agony and help. I could not help him, and I could not stop this madness. I just watched, in absolute terror.

“Hell yeah!” Anthony screamed at the top of his lungs in his demonic voice. He began to yell in delight of the boy’s silent pain.

The blood and body matter kept showering the man as the boy’s arm fell off, bone and all. All that was left was a sharp, boney stub, surrounded by shredded muscle and skin. Anthony picked up the arm and inspected it for a minute, grinning. Instantly, he turned the arm around so that the shredded end of it was facing me. It was full of bone shards, and blood was dripping out of it as though his heart was still connected to the veins. Anthony charged towards me with it, and began to rub this part all over my face.

I shrieked at this disgusting sensation, and tried to resist it, but the more I resisted it, the more he shoved it in. The fractured ending of the boy’s amputated arm began to leave cuts on my cheek and nose.

“Stop!” I yelped, “Stop!”

After continuing this revolting game with me for another minute or so, he stopped, and chucked the arm into the woods. My face was covered in cuts and fragmented bone. Promptly, Anthony picked his jigsaw up, and began to cut the second arm.

I could not take this anymore, I could not watch. Anthony kept hacking away, laughing, and laughing. The boy had since passed out, and was losing blood fast. I began to wish that instead of being tied to a tree, that my neck be tied securely in a noose, my body hanging lifeless from a tree limb. I wanted to be dead, and I did not want to witness this boy’s suffering. I did not want to live in a world where people like Anthony existed.

I saw the boy wake up, just as his second arm fell to the ground. Anthony picked it up, and threw it into the woods, his laughter increasing in pitch.

“There,” he chortled, “part one is complete. Now, you cannot resist. Without arms, you are defenseless, kid!” His insane laughing continued.

The boy was just clinging on to life as Anthony took the jigsaw, and stabbed it right into his eye socket, shredding his eye into bits. He then shoved it so deep into the boy’s head that it must’ve penetrated his brain. He was dead, and Anthony just kept laughing and hacking, laughing and hacking. This process was repeated with the other eye, with it too, bursting into shreds.

The madman’s mask was covered in bits of muscle, skin, bone, and eye matter. It no longer resembled a little girl, but a monster from hell. I puked on the site, not being able keep anything down anymore.

“Now, Ms. Belfleur,” Anthony announced, “the true fun is going to begin!” With that, he replaced the blade on his jigsaw with a new fresh one, and rammed it into the boy’s skull. It had a hard time going in at first, but after putting an extreme amount of pressure on it, Anthony got the tool through the tough skull bone. He cut through the bone and muscle like a carpenter, cutting through wood.

After sawing an oval around the face of the boy, he took the knife in his pocket, and jammed it into the crack in the kid’s forehead. Instantly, he began moving the knife around, trying to force the face up with all his might, like one might do to the top of a Jack O‘Lantern when carving it. After a few minutes of picking and prodding with the knife, the face began to disconnect, little by little. Anthony began to pick it up, the mouth still attached to the esophagus and the trachea. Seeing this as a complication, Anthony chopped the esophagus off the mouth along with the trachea. His psychotic job was near finished. Now it was my turn.

“Yes!” Anthony exclaimed, holding the face, now a mask up, displaying it to the darkness that consumed him. “Dad would be so proud! He would love me even more!”

How could a father be proud of this!? This is absolutely demented! Remembering that I was next, I simply dismissed these thoughts in fear. I now had to go through what the boy did. I began to sob loudly, dreading the upcoming last few minutes of my short lived life.

“How about you try it on for me, Kelly?” he asked, giggling to himself. At this moment, he ran towards me, and jammed the boy’s face on to mine. I screamed, struggled, and yelped. The dead face was cold and saturated with blood on my own, and my breathing had altogether stopped. I began to have tunnel vision, and started to lose grip with reality. I was wearing the face of a dead boy. ''Why? Why? I’m wearing a face that belonged to someone else.'' Suddenly, I heard the jigsaw turn on again. I could barely see through the mask.

''“No Anthony! No!”'' I screamed as loud as I could, the tears streaming out of my eyes. And then he did it.

The pain was infinite, as the jigsaw shredded my arm. I screamed, yelled, and shrieked, but the darkness of the forest absorbed it’s echo. I could not see through the mask, and I did not want to see. I did not want to see my mangled arm.

I felt the bone crack, and I started to black out. My breathing began to halt, and my heart felt like it was going to stop beating once and for all. I was dying, alone, in the woods, with no one to comfort me. I started to hear rustling in the woods as I faded out.

It all happened so fast, the gunshots, the ending of the pain, the hands resting on my shoulder, removing the ropes that bound me to the forest. I was carried out by someone, a game warden, I think, and put in a car. That was all I could recount. I had a severe compound fracture on my left arm, so surgery was necessary to put it back together. It was put in a large cast, and immobilized completely.

My family visited me in the hospital. Davie was crying when he first saw me, and so were my parents. But, I could not speak to them, as my thoughts were dominated by Anthony and the masks. I simply looked forward, haunted and terrified, as I was back in the woods. Anthony was a deceiver, a man who wore a mask of friendship at first, and then would replace that mask with the lifeless face of another innocent being killed at the hands of his cruelty.

One night, after my family left, and after the nurse had checked on me for the last time that night, I tried to get some sleep. Nightmares had been troubling me, and without anyone in the room to comfort me, I refused to wake up from a bad dream and be scared alone. But, one night, I woke up, and someone was there.

“I’m afraid we have some unfinished business, hun.”

A jigsaw turned on.

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