Jon's pov
I stood there, shocked. I pulled out my phone to call the cops.
No bars. I guess that Evan guy was right. EVAN!
I take out the walkie talkie he gave me, and I press the button to speak.
"Evan, are you there?" I ask.
"Of course, you need somethin'?" He requested his southern accent in full.
"I need the police, the friend I told you about I found him, but he looks Injured," I said concerned.
"Ok, ill call the police, but make sure your friend is still alive," He asked, then he went silent.
I walked over to Bryan. I put my head on his chest.

He has a heartbeat; I start to shake Bryan carefully.
"Bryan," I whisper."Bryan wake up."
His eyes opened slowly; he must have been asleep for a while.
"Jon?" He was confused to see me; then his face became one of fear "What are you doing here?"
"What do you mean you contacted me?" I asked, confused at him.
His face had more fear in it," That wasn't me." I slowly got him up on his feet.
"What happened?" I asked him," Why are you here? Why did you leave the park?" I bombarded him with questions, but he shushed me.
"We have to get out of here," He whispered to me.
"Ok, let's go," I said, walking towards the stairs. But before I could get on the first step, Bryan grabbed my arm.
"Not up there, there's a passage from down here to the tool shed; we'll get out that way," Bryan whispered. He's starting to sound crazy.
I then look at the hand he has on my arm. It had a lot of scars on it.
"Bryan? How did you get those scars?" I asked, scared that he was self-harming.
"I got them for running away," He muttered, but then he walked over to a door and walked through it.
"Bryan!" I yelled and ran after him.

I heard a loud crash like a car ramming into the wood.
I ran until I came across a small room, a considerable large hole in the wall, and no Bryan.
"Bryan?" I called into the darkroom.
I turn around to see Bryan. He looked the same, but he was different. I looked down, and he had a knife. It had blood on it.
I didn't have time to see his face when he jumped on top of me.
He tried to stab me, but I threw him off me. He made a banshee-like noise. I saw his eyes; they weren't his brown now. It was like bloody mud.
I saw an old gun on a small side table, and I grabbed it.
I pointed it at Bryan
"Bryan, please don't make me hurt you," I said, trying to be as threatening as possible. What's gotten into him?
His eyes cleared up. He started breathing very hard.
"GET OUT LEAVE ME ALONE!" he shouted before aggressively hitting his head on the wall multiple times before saying," I've been bad. I deserve this," he muttered before collapsing unconscious.

I turn around about to run away then.