Steven, finally sensing that something was terribly wrong, emerged from the car. The absence of Bradley's panicked voice had created a silence so profound it seemed to press against his eardrums. "Hey, man, where'd you go?" he called out, his voice barely above a whisper. "Come on, quit screwing around. This isn't funny anymore." His tone had taken on a whining, frightened edge as he moved cautiously away from the car.
It didn't take long for Steven to spot Bradley's form sprawled by the roadside. He rushed over, dropping to his knees beside his friend. "Shit, Bradley, you okay? Did you pass out or something? Come on, man, let's go." He leaned in close, straining to hear any sign of breathing. It was at that moment that a shadow fell across them both.
Steven's head snapped up, his eyes widening in terror as he took in the figure looming over them, rope in hand. "Oh shit, oh fuck!" The scream tore from his throat as he scrambled to his feet, making a desperate dash for the car. But the killer, with inhuman speed, cut him off, blocking his escape route.
With no other option, Steven plunged into the woods, crashing through the underbrush with the blind panic of prey fleeing a predator. He ran until his lungs burned and his legs trembled, finally collapsing behind a thick cluster of bushes. His breath came in ragged gasps as he fumbled in his pockets for his cell phone, desperate to call for help. But as he pulled it out, his heart sank – no signal. "No, no, no," he muttered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heart.
Gathering what little courage he had left, Steven crept out from his hiding place, holding the phone aloft as he moved deeper into the forest, praying for a single bar of reception. After what felt like an eternity, a signal flickered to life. With shaking fingers, he dialed 911, his entire being focused on that tenuous connection to salvation.
"911, what's your emergency?" The dispatcher's calm voice was like a lifeline thrown to a drowning man.
Steven opened his mouth to respond, but before he could utter a word, a twig snapped behind him. He whirled around, his eyes wide with terror, sweat pouring down his face in rivulets. When he finally found his voice, it was a trembling whisper:
"Help me, please! Someone's after me. They killed my friend, and now they're coming for me!" The words tumbled out in a frantic rush.