*cue the creepy music*

~~

There were a few seconds of me trying to run through my options quickly after realizing the situation I was in. Unfortunately, there weren't that many options.

Don't quit.

I pushed against the ropes tying my wrists and ankles. I've never felt more restrained in my life.

There's still a chance. I have to get out of here.

Nothing. No matter how much I struggled, I understood that I wouldn't be able to free myself in that condition.

I looked around the unfurnished room. The walls, grey, old and chipped off and the door in front of me trapping me from the outside door.

By looking up, I also saw a light bulb swaying slowly and arrhythmically over my head, shaping my slender shadow on the floor and door.

I kept squirming and called out to anyone that could help me, the first person that came to mind.

"Charles!" I yelled, feeling my lungs getting pierced with pain.

Suddenly, I heard an inhuman, blood-curdling screech that made my breath catch in my throat.

The door was moving, no, someone was pushing it open from outside.

Mighty hinges creaked loudly and shrilly, as if unwilling to let whoever pass.

I didn't understand, it seemed as if my brain short-circuited and needed to be rebooted. Around me, everything was in fast-forward while I was motionless in the middle of the room.

What is happening?

The door eventually yielded open for me to lose every vain hope of surviving.

Charles Johnston volunteered, he hopes to be of help to you Mr. Basil.

I didn't only feel vulnerability, but helplessness. I was panicking, jerking madly against my bonds, but to no avail.

Then I saw him, peeking out from behind the door.

His complexion the ash gray of death, and his eyes pushed back deep into their sockets.

His lips were tattered and bloody.

He slouched forward and I could see his taller frame appear in front of me. The only clothes left on him from the beginnings of our sessions were his extremely worn out pants and shoes.

He was gaunt to the point of emaciation, his desiccated skin pulled tightly over its bones.

With his bones pushing out against his skin, especially in his chest, they made themselves as visible as knots on a rope.

He didn't look like a man anymore, but looked like a gaunt skeleton, recently disinterred from the grave.

I became white as chalk. Unclean and suffering from suppurations of the flesh, that creature gave off a strange and eerie odor of decay and decomposition, of death and corruption.

It kept his eyes fixated on me and moved closer with unsteady steps.

My eyes and mouth were frozen wide open in an expression of stunned surprise, and although I was staring straight at my doing I couldn't believe it was real.

There was screaming and crying, but it did not stop the creature from getting closer.

It's arm was lifted up slowly and I felt the rough texture of it's skin touching my forehead.

"Bas.. il.."
.
.
.
.
..
.

.

.
.
.
.
.

Brother?

..
.

~~

Hope you enjoyed that (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و

And yeees I'm working on something and this is probably going to be part of it.

So the main character here is Basil Johnston, an Ojibwe teacher.

He actually existed as a person, but no, it's not like anything I write here is true about him, he didn't die by some sort of crazy monster lol