How had things gotten to this point?
Just a week ago, he had been ripped from the world he knew and was placed into the supernatural. No, rather, the supernatural was merely added to his world.
The more he tested and dived into this new world, the closer he had gotten to death. He had been cautious, yet at the time it was most necessary, he went in blind. Was it his stupidity, then, which was what would kill him?
—Undoubtedly, yes.
It was his own foolishness. He knew he was supposed to be more stealthy, he knew he was supposed to wait, he knew he should not have run in blind. Yet, he had gone and done it.
Wasn't it pathetic, then? Something to scoff at, something to laugh at, something that inspired a held back smile? It was, it absolutely had to be.
He was stupid, so stupid.
So overwhelmingly stupid that it was only natural he was going to die.
…
The stone was raised into the air, and promptly slammed down into Aubrey's jaw. His bones were pushed inwards, his teeth either broken in half or outright ripped from the roots.
Blood splattered onto his throat and ground. It was warm yet sticky, an uncomfortable sensation on his body as he did not like being wet.
"A-ugh. HHH."
Trying to scream, his broken jaw and mouth did not actualize his agony forward, only letting grunts and breaths into the world.
"There. That makes sure you can't bite to heal; that's something your kind does, right?"
Acting as though they weren't similar deep down, the skinwalker smiled as he looked down upon the bloodied weakling.
Thinking about things,
Isn't it because I'm weak? If I was strong, or capable like Sam was, then I'd have been able to escape.
His suffering was due to the fact that he was weak. It was exceedingly obvious, the most barebones philosophical concept pretty-much ever.
Even wondering whether eating healthy was a good thing; that was a more difficult concept to grasp than the truth that if you have more power than someone, then you can fight them off.
Not just in reference to physical strength, however. If someone had a gun and the other did not, the person without the gun was at the mercy of the one who was armed. It was that simple.
His eyes obscured by his hair, and his jaw dangling, Aubrey developed his thoughts.
Then, if I'm dying because I'm weak, and not because I'm strong, then doesn't that mean it's only natural? I was better than Bloody Mary, I was better than the wendigo and the WendigoWalkers, and therefore I was able to win.
In the end, winning was all that mattered, wasn't it?
It was a world of monsters. To expect an honest fight was utterly ridiculous. To march into enemy territory under the assumption that you could somehow gain something from them—that too, was utterly ridiculous.
Aubrey Palmer was an idiot.
Plain and simple, he was an idiot who did idiotic things. He surrounded himself with idiots and lived an idiotic life. Because his actions were idiotic, it was only natural he would lose.
The stone was once more raised into the air, and Aubrey's eyes, obscured by his bangs, shakily looked upwards towards it.
The stone, the weapon that would cause his death.
"Fire! There's a fire in the forest!"
The skinwalker turning his head, he came across the sight of a burning tree, with flames that could potentially spread even further.
"Troublesome. If he has the strength to escape, let him escape. Come, we must put out the fire."
The stone was dropped to the ground, creating a hard thud that reverberated through the air. The skinwalkers pinning Aubrey to the ground got off, rushing from the cave and entering the forest.
Aubrey slowly rolled around to his stomach, his blood gushing as the taste of metal and teeth was on his tongue. He spat and coughed out their excess which he'd not already swallowed, and got to his feet.
Aubrey slowly walked out of the cave, one weak step at a time.
He found his hatchet on the ground, as he bent down and picked it up. His steps swaying, his bloodied and pained figure kept trying to move so that it might survive.
He looked to his side, seeing a tree ablaze, alongside a flare gun near a dead human's body. The smoke from his grenades had gotten the attention of either a forest watcher or a camper, they had come close to the cave and most likely died trying to use a flare gun.
And with the heat, came a fire which saved his life.
Aubrey pulled the scarf down from his chin, going to the human's body and getting ready to devour their flesh. When, a skinwalker approached.
"That's not for you. Scram."
Aubrey got up silently, walking away.
…
"Oh my gosh, stop fucking calling me," an annoyed Sam growled, holding his phone to his head whilst he lied in bed, eyes closed as he was in the middle of sleeping.
"Wait, what!?" He immediately shouted upon hearing the news, getting out of bed and getting dressed. "Alright, I'm on my way! Shit!"
He hung up and used his speedster powers to go to the HPC.
Arriving there quite quickly, Sam entered the lower floors and into the medical care room, in which he saw Aubrey being treated for his wounds.
"What the fuck happened!?" Sam shouted at the doctors.
"He likely went hunting, and lost. He was allowed to leave, it seems," the doctor said, as the unconscious Aubrey remained in bed.
"Fuck, is he—no, sorry for yelling, shit, I just… egh, is he gonna be alright?"
"Most likely. All he needs is the flesh of a monster to regenerate."
"Okay, I'll offer up a bit of mine. How much does he—"
"That might not work, and it would be at a detriment to you. Bring a monster here."
"Alright, I'll do that."
Sam turned around and rushed out. After about 30 minutes, he returned with a small frogman. The monster was fed to Aubrey's unconscious body via breaking off chunks and crushing it until it was like liquid, being sent down Aubrey's throat.
Aubrey's jaw and body began to heal, with Sam being incredibly relieved to see his friend alive.
The eyes of the sleeping monster opened, and he looked at those surrounding him.
"...Fuck."
"Heh… let me guess, you got snuck again?"
"...Sure, let's go with that."
Aubrey, fully well due to ingesting a sizable amount of monster flesh, sat up and scratched the back of his itchy head, getting out of bed. He saw his doctor, a slight red tint appearing on his pale face.
"Sorry about the trouble. Do I have to pay, or…?"
"No, medical fees don't apply if you are injured in the line of work."
"For real? Yeesh, this is a pretty gosh-darn good company if I do say so myself."
Aubrey plastered a smile on his face. "Anyways, Sam, um, I'm tired. Let's go home."
"Yeah, probably for the best, man."
Getting overly showy in terms of their friendship, the two left the place with their arms wrapped around the other's shoulder, as though they were dapper gentlemen in the 1930's.
…
Standing in the bathroom of his house, a hardly-dressed Aubrey Palmer splashed his face with cold water.
Hm. Cold water feels better to me now than warm water does.
He looked into the mirror, his hand over his mouth as his hair was that of a middle part, allowing him to see his eyes which he very rarely did.
"Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary."
No response.
He extended his free hand, pressing it against the mirror. To which, it broke through, transcending the world. Caught by surprise, Aubrey's chin bent down slightly, his bangs covering his eyes as he took his hand off his face.
Aubrey climbed the sink, and fully entered a new realm. He looked around, seeing an all-black void, but with occasional squares present.
Ah. So, then, is this what you saw, Mary?
Walking around, Aubrey saw that the squares, which were similar to the stars in the night sky, were mirrors that existed across the world. As he walked through the darkness, his footing felt solid, yet when he raised his foot to try and climb higher, he found that the invisible ground automatically raised itself akin to that of a staircase.
He went to one mirror, seeing a pitch-black bathroom. He decided to enter inside, climbing through the decently sized mirror and standing on the counter, hopping off and providing silence.
He walked through the dark house freely as though he owned it, passing by a sleeping dog. Even the animal with great hearing could not discern his presence, though—
The dog's eyes opened, having caught the scent of another animal in the house. Aubrey went to what he presumed to be the master bedroom in order to avoid being caught. He went to the owner of the house—a large old man.
Aubrey watched him sleep for a few moments, summoning the Slit-Mouth-Scissors and holding them over the man's ear.
If I pushed this through, he'd die. At any moment, I can kill this man. Then, perhaps I could freeze him up, and get stronger that way. Wendigo's get stronger from eating cold meat, don't they?
A faint, nasty smile crept up on Aubrey's face.
—But I won't.
Aubrey got rid of the scissors, standing up straight.
After all, he isn't scary. Why would I kill something that isn't terrifying? That doesn't make sense. I can live with this man, I don't have to worry about him.
But to anything that might disturb my life, or anything that might try to take my life. Absolutely, they are scary.
I won't let them live.