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The Unhinged Kind

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Brisk cool night air carries the sound of hurried footsteps crunching on fallen twigs and dried up leaves. Quick hard breaths fill burning lungs as small beads of sweat fall onto the mixture of clothes and skin. A hand finds the rough texture of bark and clings at it desperately as the body it's attached to, tries to steady itself. Some deep breaths are taken from a momentary pause before something snaps in the distance somewhere and the hand let's go as the crunching of leaves starts back up again. Then something flat is spotted, a road, and suddenly the footsteps pick up, wanting to reach it as quick as possible in an almost hopeless frenzy of salvation from what they were running away from.

As the footsteps draw near to the asphalt, an almost desperate laugh bubbles its way up to the surface with a small smile of hope. But that smile quickly disappears and is instead replaced by pain, as a scream is let out by the sound of something quickly snapping shut hard around a leg. A thud follows as the man, the leg is attached to, kneels over in pain onto the ground. He holds his leg for all of a second before hearing another set of footsteps suddenly now running, and realizes the grave mistake of his scream.

He quickly tries to pry off the trap around his leg with his hands, forgoing pain, but it doesn't budge. Then he hears it, the sound of dread, as a small subtle laugh starts to grow into a loud manic one. And the steps stop as the man anxiously looks up to see a dark figure standing there with a large sharp knife, only some feet away from him. The man hurries and tries to remove the trap as the figure starts to walk towards him and waves the knife around I an almost playful manner.

"Our prey is caught," the figure muses with a grin.

"St-stay away from me!" the man yells and tries to back away with his hands. However, his back makes contact with something behind him and he freezes.

"Can we slice him up in to bits?" the figure asks looking beyond the man.

The man feels as cold sweat falls from his forehead, pass his cheek and down to his chin. He was too afraid to move or even look, but he forces himself to, because he needed to know for sure. The man tilts his head back, looking up at what's behind him. When he sees another figure, much taller than the other standing there, his eyes widen in terror and he quickly moves away with a shriek.

"Wh-what do you want from me?!" the man screams, "What did I ever do to you?!"

"So loud. Annoying," the shorter of the two figures mutters with a twitch.

The taller one takes a step towards the man and it's only then does the man realize that the taller figure is holding an axe down by their side.

"What do we want?" the taller figure repeats back, "Oh nothing," they then crouch down in front of him. "What did you ever do to me?" they repeat the second question back in a drawl. "Nothing personally," they cock their head a bit then. "You just really piss me off for some reason is all," a shadowed smirk forms across their lips and they stand back up again.

"P-please just let me go—I'll give you anything you want!" the man sobs.

"So irritating," the shorter figure says agitated.

"Indeed." the taller figure agrees and lifts up the axe. "How disappointing."

The axe swings in a swift motion and silences the sob filled aired.