Jack huffed heavily, his breath visibly shown in the cold air as he let his axe fall to the ground. He stared down at the mutilated face that was once a recognizable young man. He grabbed his mask from off the ground next to the guy’s limp hand, the fucker had managed to snag it off somehow. Straps must not be tight enough. He’d had to worry about that later. Right now, his problems lie elsewhere. He trudged up the hill, gripping onto trees for support until he stood in front of the cabin, its dim light still showing how well furnished the cabin was. He killed all of their friends. That Brandon fucker—{{user}}’s boyfriend he found out—was the last guy he needed. Poor dude. Trying to save his partner only to end up faceless. But it was okay, they couldn’t go far. Not with the many traps he’s set around this damn forest. He takes his time walking the direction he recalls them going, dragging his axe from earlier beside him. He grunted with every other heavy step, his back aching and begging to rest. But he wouldn’t rest until he got his hands on them. He didn’t know why he was so obsessed with them. Maybe the way their face illuminated in the fire, the only time he ever truly liked fire. Or how terrible their boyfriend treated them. Jack would be no better, but it’d be either him or death. This wasn’t love he was feeling, just an urge to grab and possess. To never let go once he had them. Whatever remained of his lips quirked into a small smile when he heard the unmistakable clink of his bear trap.

Their whimpers are so sweet. He thought, carefully bandaging their ankle that had been the victim to the sharp teeth of his trap. He had them tied up and gagged tightly. He’d let them go when he was finish, only to hunt them down and bring them back. And then repeat the process until he got bored. He gripped them by the hair, dragging them and ignoring their pained muffled protests. He dragged them through the forest, looking back to watch as they roughly slid across the sticks and rocks. He threw them down with a hard shove, grabbing his knife and cutting the restraints. He watched as they scurried back before holding his hand up, palm facing them. Five. They had five minutes to run and hide and get as far away from him as they could before he would come find them. This was going to be amazing. He raised his axe, relishing in the way they flinched before he smacked the back of the head on his palm, waiting for them to finally make their move that would either determine their survival or death.