Charles Grayson, usually called by his surname because he had a senior fraternity brother also named ‘Charles', abruptly stopped laughing as Lee's screams reverberated in the air. He and his brothers all looked at each other. What was that about the hand?

He was shining the light of his phone right on Twig Girl and Lee at the end of the store—Tahir and Miles also did—but he still couldn't make out what was going on. His foggy brain was struggling to form coherent thoughts. Still, he knew that the shit happening wasn't any fucking good.

There was a thud somewhere behind them to their left. Twig Girl had her hand raised; it was coated with some sort of dark liquid. She had thrown something away. A pathetic yelp to their backs told Grayson that the weak punk Yves found out whatever it was.

Another thud.

This time, it was Lee falling to his knees. His screams made Grayson's headache worse. Then Lee turned to them, holding his arm. It ended in a bloody stump. Grayson's brain finally processed that the Twig Girl had literal blood on her hands.

Lee was about to drop to the floor, already curling in a fetal position from the pain, but Twig Girl grabbed his hair with her bloodied hand and kept him upright. He feebly struggled to break free but didn't seem to completely understand what was happening to him, more focused on his chopped hand.

"The fuck is going...?" Grayson mouthed. He had kept his light on them—it reflected a bit off Twig Girl’s glasses—his hands uncontrollably shaking as blood rushed away from his extremities. It was as if his head was in a vice grip slowly closing, pressure pounded on his ears. Think, you bastard! With the small clump of common sense he had left in his brain, he raised the back of his shirt with his free hand and reached for the gun tucked in the waistline of his pants.

It was the turn of Bridger and Miles to scream like little girls as they processed what had happened to Lee. Tahir called his friend's name and ran past Grayson to help him. But Grayson reached out to stop the stupid first-year, accidentally dropping his phone to the ground as he yanked back Tahir's shirt.

"Lee!” Tahir cried out. “Grayson, let go! I need to help—"

"You're not helping anyone if you're fucking dead!" He yelled as he started to retreat in between the store shelves, dragging Tahir with him. The first-year tumbled from all the pulling. "Get up! That's an Adumbrae. Get up and run!"

"Adumbrae? But Lee—"

"Shut the fuck up and come with—huh?"

Golden light suddenly filled the room. It came from some sort of bullshit floating above Twig Girl's hand. She still tightly grabbed onto Lee's hair with her other hand, raising him off the floor. Her captive seemed to have regained a semblance of thought as he struggled to escape, trying to pull his head away.

As Lee begged for his life, he punched and kicked her. But it was just like he was hitting a concrete post. Twig Girl didn't budge an inch.

She wants to toy with us, it dawned on Grayson. Shivers ran up his spine as thoughts of what she could do to them crossed his mind. A vile bitch of an Adumbrae!

But that also meant she wouldn’t instantly kill them. I’m going to use the others as bait to survive!

Bridger fell on his ass while continuing to scream. He just laid there on the ground, paralyzed by fear. Then he just started bawling like a baby instead of trying to flee.

"A-Adu-Adumbrae! Help!" Miles turned and ran, but he tripped over Bridger's legs in the dim light and slammed headfirst into the side of a store shelf. He fell back to the floor beside Bridger. They no longer had any cellphone lights. The only illumination came from the mysterious floating blob next to the Adumbrae, its golden color was turning red as it took on a more solid form.

"Miles! Bridger!" Tahir finally managed to break free of Grayson's grasp and run to their other fraternity brothers.

"Dumbass," Grayson said, shaking his hurt hand. He was about to turn and leave them, but he was surprised that half his heart told him to help.

He pointed his gun at the Adumbrae. Blowing off her head might stop her. That was if he could land a hit, a tall order given his state. Shooting any other part of the body wouldn't do shit, he knew that much. His hand continued trembling.

Blam! Blam! Flashes of light brightened the store, showing just how much blood Lee was losing from his severed hand.

"Fuck! Fucking fuck!" Each time Grayson's finger pulled the trigger, he instinctively knew he was going to miss.

Twig Girl's face bathed in red was strangely calm despite getting shot at, almost as if she didn't care about any of them. But she moved Lee's slowly weakening body in front of her, shaking it as if daring him to shoot again.

Should I? He might hit Lee, or he might hit jackshit because he couldn't see straight. I’m going to save my bullets.

There was scrambling and shouting as Tahir helped a limping Miles to get away. Bridger wouldn't go with them, tightly hugging a store shelf and literally crying for his Mom.

"I'm not going to die here!" Grayson ran to the entrance of the store.

"You forgot your friend," the calm voice of Twig Girl could barely be heard over their raucous escaping.

"Argh!" He exclaimed as something heavy hit him, knocking him against a wooden column.

It was a whimpering Lee. The first-year squirmed while groaning in pain, barely conscious.

The overpowering metallic smell of so much blood climbed up Grayson's nose. The sticky liquid was all over his arms. He could feel bitter vomit rising up the back of his throat, but he swallowed it down. Rage and despair filled his heart.

"Piece of shit," he spat out as he kicked the useless sack of potatoes that was Lee off of him.

"Grayson! Lee!" It was Tahir. His voice came from the other side of the store. "Where are you?"

The door was only a few feet away. Grayson hurriedly continued on all fours towards it.

The red light disappeared. Everything went black. He didn't know what happened and he didn't want to know. There was an ominous striking sound as if metal hitting metal. A guttural growl followed, filling his heart with dread.

"Help!" Bridger shrieked.

"Bridger!"

"Leave him!"

Grayson didn't stop crawling. The others were somewhere to his far right. But the exit wasn't that way. "Where's the fucking door—Ow!" His hands fumbled over the wooden surface in front of him. "Yes!" he said in triumph as his hands closed on a rough circular object—the doorknob, probably covered with rust. Shit, I should stay quiet.

Could the Adumbrae see in the dark? That Twig Girl bitch probably could. Monsters always had that ability in the movies. For now, the Adumbrae seemed to be eating Bridger from his screams punctuated by growling.

Grayson turned the doorknob and pulled. The door moved only about an inch. There was a rattling noise and he couldn't open it more. Complete darkness greeted him through the gap. Wasn't his truck's lights supposed to be on?

He tucked his gun back into his pants and pulled at the door with both hands. There was that clinking noise again, sounding like chains. Did someone close it outside? It must be Blondie! Her friend was an Adumbrae and she was going to feed them to her. They must've done this plenty of times, probably prowling this empty stretch of the desert road for victims.

"Mommy! Mommy! Urgkk!"

Is Bridger dead? Where were the others? Grayson couldn't hear them, only Lee who was still moaning several feet behind him. His hands grew cold as he realized that they were the ones who left him. Those limp-dicked bastards! And to think he tried to fight the Adumbrae for them. He had done so much for them and this was how they repay him? That scrawny Miles and those two ungrateful first-years!

How did they escape this store? Grayson could feel a breeze.

He should follow it, just like finding the way out of a cave. Drafts can also lead deeper into the cave, he remembered his brother's words when he joined his group exploring the Carlan Tunnels. But there was no 'deeper' part of a store and so he resumed crawling.

Bridger had quieted down. Probably dead, that poor bastard. It was only Lee making noises now. Grayson prayed that none of the old floorboards beneath him would creak. Where was the Adumbrae?

Footsteps!

It was somewhere to the shelves to his back. She was going to where he was several seconds ago. Was she following him? No, she was walking to Lee.

"Grayson..." Lee feebly called out, his voice clear in the silent store. "Grayson...where are you?"

Shut up, you dumbass! The dick couldn't just die on his own.

Then a small gust of wind washed over Grayson's face, making him also cry out in relief. It was hard to see, but one of the windows had its boarding removed. He could faintly make out the sky outside with a few dots of stars—not much else. The others went out this way.

"Argh! It hurts!" shouted Lee.

Good! That would cover the sounds of his escape. He quickly climbed through the opening. His sleeve snagged a protruding shard of wood. He forcefully pulled it, making more noise than he intended. But what was important was that... "I'm free!" he celebrated as he rolled to the ground outside.

Lee's pitiful pleas for help filtered out the window. That meant the Adumbrae was still busy torturing him. He had a bit of time.

Where's the truck? He hurried back to the front of the store, keeping his hands on the wall so he wouldn’t lose his way and accidentally run off into the desert. Other than the sprinkling of stars above, he could barely see a couple of inches from his face. I shouldn’t have dropped my fucking phone!

His hands reached a corner, and he turned left. It was still dark as fuck.

Didn't Tahir leave the truck running with its lights on? Whoever locked them in the store tampered with his pick-up truck. I'm not alone here, he concluded as he pulled out his gun again.

Lee's screams faded away as he presumably died. After Lee, Grayson knew that he was next.

Miles, Tahir, and Yves had abandoned him.

Wait! Did those guys take the truck?

His heart pounded even faster at the thought of being left alone. They couldn't have! He would've heard the engine. And they left the store barely a minute before he did. At the least, he should see them driving away...right?

"Don't fucking leave me here," he whispered through gritted teeth.

Even in the dark, he rushed in the direction of where he thought the truck was going to be. That stupid Tahir parked it so far away.

Something hard, probably a rock, caught the tip of his front foot. He lost his balance and fell to the rough ground. The skin of his face and arms stung. He ignored the pain as he felt around the dark for his gun. As his hand closed on the textured surface of the gun's handle grip, he let out the biggest sigh he ever had.

Picking himself up, he continued on.

Am I going the right way?

Then he broke into a huge grin as an idea popped into his head. "I'm a genius," he shouted with relief. He raised the gun and shot it in the air a couple of times. From the flashes of light, he noticed he was about twenty meters left of the gas station. Thankfully, he wasn't running off into the desert. He also noticed Blondie’s blue car by the store.

One more shot to confirm the direction of the truck and he ran as fast as he could, laughing all along the way. The gun already gave away his location, what harm did laughing do? And he had the right to laugh because he was going to fucking get out of here alive! The Adumbrae must be eating Miles and all those idiots who abandoned him.

A few more shots to light his way. He was so near his truck.

"Yes!" he triumphantly yelled as his hand touched the cold exterior of the door. He felt for the handle and then pulled it open. Jumping inside the driver's side, he paused for a second. Aren't I forgetting something?

The keys! Of course, the keys. He searched for it below the steering wheel.

It wasn't there.

No! No! No! He scrambled looking for it, feeling for it on the dashboard, the passenger seat, on the floor. He exited the truck and started feeling for it on the ground. Should he shoot again? Then he remembered the important thought at the back of his mind.

Someone turned off the lights and the engine. It should be Blondie.

Light shone on him.

"Tahir?" he said as he turned to his left.

"No," answered a female voice.

Blondie! She was approaching him with a shovel over her shoulder.

Grayson momentarily paused as the gears in his brain ground to a halt from her beauty and figure. She has the keys, you dumbass! His mental outburst shocked him into action. He raised his gun, hesitating only for a second, and shot. At this range, he shouldn't miss. And his hands weren't shaking anymore.

But Blondie had raised the head of the shovel to block the bullet going for her face.

Or that was what he thought he saw. That's impossible shit! "Die, you bitch!" He continued shooting. The blonde girl appeared to have stopped all the bullets, preemptively moving the shovel head where he was aiming at.

"Wow," she said with a chuckle. "This is amazing. The bullet blocking thing, not what's about to happen to you."

"Why won't you fucking die?" He kept on firing until his pistol clicked empty. With a snap decision, he climbed back into his truck, thinking he could protect himself inside. As soon as he locked the door, a hand punched through the window and grabbed his face. "Let go of me!" He screamed as he grabbed the steering wheel and the driver seat's headrest to stop himself from getting pulled out.

Blondie's fingers dug into the sides of his head, punching through his skin and flesh down to his skull. She was incredibly strong and he was losing consciousness from his head slowly getting crushed.

She was an Adumbrae! Both Blondie and Twig Girl were Adumbrae all along. They must've planned to eat them from the start!

Don't let go! Don't let go! he chanted repeatedly. "Arrrgghhh! Noooo!" His fingers strained to hold on. Blondie had already pulled his head and upper body out through the window.

Maintaining a death grip on his head, she grabbed his left arm and yanked it off the steering wheel. There was a crack and a pop. Insane pain traveled up his arm to his neck. Because of it, he also let go of the headrest and he was thrown out of the car.

"Shit!" He cradled his trembling injured left arm. There was light again. Blondie had turned on her phone and was now picking up the shovel. Can I fight—? No! She was an Adumbrae. Half of her shirt was bloody from the bullet wounds he caused earlier, but she didn't seem to mind it. He picked himself up and tried to run.

Wham!

A massive force hit the side of his legs. He folded like a tree that was chopped down. "Yeaargh! Fuck!" The pain shooting up his thigh was too much. He could feel his bladder emptying hot, his pants soaked in hot liquid. He breathed shallowly, trying to keep conscious.

"I don't want any of this to be personal," Blondie said, standing over him with her phone's flashlight.

Grayson wanted to respond but couldn't. Pain overcome him.

He hugged his injured hand and rolled on his side to vomit. His face hurt like hell when he puked. It was like he was dunked into a vat of acid. He could feel the flaps of his shredded flesh wiggling because of the cool desert wind. Blood snaked down to the ground, gathering into a pool beneath his face. His legs wouldn’t follow his thoughts.

"You're a perverted harasser and you should be in jail," she continued. "But that doesn't mean I have the right to torture you or even kill you. Perhaps others might think so, but I don't. It's not justified."

Am I going to die here? Grayson tried to speak, ignoring the searing pain in his facial muscles. "Ple-please..."

"Whatever wrongs you have done in your life, and I'm sure there are many, including to me and Erind...I'm not the one who should judge and punish you for them."

"Do-don't...Please...don't..." Another wave of puke came out of his mouth.

"And I know that what I'm doing here is wrong," she said. She wasn't listening to him but more like talking to herself. It was as if she couldn't hear him. "So...that's why I allowed myself to be hit by your bullets. Granted, that's not much to me, but it's some form of penance for what it’s worth."

He forced himself to turn over. I need to get away. He dragged himself across the ground with his hands. His legs could barely move. Pain radiated up to his abdomen. Still, he clawed his way forward.

"But I have to feed my best friend," she said, slowly walking beside him as he squirmed across the desert like a lost slug. "I have to protect her, no matter what. That's my promise to her. I failed her before, and I can't fail her again. I can't fail. Period."

"Live..." he said as he pulled himself onward with his right hand. "Live..." His left couldn't grab anything so he used his elbow. "I...live..."

"I think she's hunting your friends over the small hills there," said Blondie. "I'm going to tie you somewhere she can see you, then I'm going to leave you. I shouldn’t be around when she comes. I don't think she wants me to see her eating. That's going to be awkward."

"Do-don't le-let me die...please..." He inhaled through his clenched teeth and braced himself for the pain, yelling with all his might. "I don't want to die!"

"I'm sorry," Blondie said. He felt something grip his ankles. He was getting pulled up. "I'm really sorry, but Erind comes first."