Immediately, her and Timothee are struck with the smell of leather, blood, and dust.

"Ugh, gross." She says, looking at the cabinets full of trinkets.

The place is empty, nobody behind the counter. Except flies. Buzzing is everywhere, making Laura feel gross.

"What kind of meat is this?" Tim asks, tapping on the counter glass.

She steps up, looking at it.

"Looks like red meat. Look, those flies are having sex on that one."

Tim gags, turning to look at something else. He sits at the table in the corner.

Laura puts her hands on her hips.

"Hello? Is anybody in there?"

She looks down the hallway behind the counter. Nothing.

"Maybe she's not here." Tim shrugs.

"Her cars outside."

"How do you know it's hers?"

"She came to the mask emporium a couple times. I could recognize that peice of shit car anywhere. "

"All right, all right, I'm here. " Laura turns to the counter, where the old lady- Luda Mae stands now. She crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow at the two of them.

"Well? Do you need something?"

"What kind of meat is that?" Laura asks.

"Cow."

"I thought the meat factory was shut down."

"It wasn't. "

"But I read in the papers-"

"Are you gonna buy somethin or not?" Luda asks.

Laura fishes a poster out of her purse, slapping it on the counter in front of Luda.

"I'm looking for my friend. She went missing a few months ago."

It's only a brief second. If she blinked, she would have missed it. But Luda's eyes widened for a moment when she saw the poster.

"Have you seen her?"

"Nope. Not at all."

Laura feels heat creep up her neck.

"You know, a week before her disappearance you sent her off to meet your son."

"Oh?"

"The factory your son worked at closed down and the owner was murdered in his office. Next day, four people go missing from a festival in the town over, one of them being y/n."

She taps at the poster furiously. Luda's face goes beet red, making Laura step back a bit.

"Are you accusing my son of murder?" She shouts, poking her chest roughly.

"I'm just making an observation, ma'am."

"You bitch. You come into my store and accuse MY family of murder? To hell with you!"

Laura steps into her finger leaning forward and speaking in her face.

"It was YOUR monster of a son who worked at the factory with the owner. It was YOUR son who met MY FRIEND before she disappeared! Are you saying my observation is unreasonable?"

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY STORE!"

Tim grabs Laura's shoulders leading her out the door.

"Dude, you're crazy!" He says, opening the passenger door of the car.

"I'm not! I saw it in her face when she saw the picture, she knows something! " Laura says, pushing her hair out of her hot face. She always turned red when she got mad, her biggest insecurity.

Tim reaches into the back, pulling out a water bottle.

"Here, drink."

Laura grabs it and throws it back behind them roughly.

"I'm not thirsty."

"Fine." He says, crossing his arms.

They sit in silence for a few seconds.

"So what now?" He asks.

She starts the car, reversing into the trees behind them.

"We wait here. Then follow her home."

Timothee fell asleep for a bit, dreaming about giant flies chasing him in a feild of sticky, red meat.

He's violently shaken awake by Laura.

"Wake up, she's leaving."

"What time is it?" He asks.

"Six o'clock."

"Shit, I have to pick up my sister from her piano lessons!"

"She's gonna have to wait."

Tim scoffs at her. She ignores him, pulling out of the trees and following the shop lady from a distance.

"I can't believe we're following an old lady to her house. What are you gonna do when we get there?"

"Find y/n."

"And you don't have a plan or anything?"

She glances at him for a second through her thick eyelashes, before looking back at the road.

"I know you think I'm crazy. But I'm not. I wouldn't walk into a dangerous situation without a game plan." She points to a bag in the back seat.

Tim grabs it, opening it in his lap. He gasps.

"You bought a hand gun?!"

"No. I borrowed it from my uncle."

"Why does your uncle have a gun?"

"Because he's the Sherrif. And this is Texas, everyone has one."

"And he hasn't noticed it's missing?"

He notices her jaw clench.

"He hasn't been home in three months. He went missing the night of the meat factory murder. "

"Laura. . . What are you planning to do?"

She doesn't answer. She keeps her eyes on the road. The white of her knuckles appear on her fists, clenched around the wheel.

Is she out for revenge? Is she gonna kill the old lady? That butcher guy? He didn't want to be an accomplice.

"Drop me off. Right here. I'm not going along with this."

"No."

"Laura let me go!"

"I can't do this without you!" She cries. Sobs begin to wreck through her body, but her eyes remain open, following Luda's car.

"Tim, I'm scared. I lost my best friend, and I have to get her back, but I'm scared!"

His heart starts to race, a feeling of pity filling his stomach.

"You love me, right? So you'll stay with me?" She asks, turning to look at him.

He gulps, then nods.

"I'll help you."

"Thanks, bro." She steps on the gas, sending him against his seat. Luda is back in sight, pulling into a long drive way. She goes up a road to an old, giant house.

She parks at the bottom of the hill, out of sight. Tim watches as she pockets the gun, getting out and setting out.

He sighs, then follows.

A cold wind picks up, blowing his hair into his face. He tightens his jacket around himself.

"It smells like rain."

Laura doesn't respond.

Soon, the house is in full sight. A light is on in the top floor. The kitchen window is visible, Luda stands at the sink, washing something.

"Let's find another entrance." Laura says, walking towards the back.

There, there's a door and a window. A peek inside leads into a living room. It's empty.

Laura tried the door, finding it locked.

"I'm gonna try and get through the window." Her hand traces to her pocket, pulling out the gun and handing it to Tim. She pauses.

"Shit, I forgot the bullets. Go get them from the bag in the backseat."

Tim nods, running back down the hill. The wind picks up, wet and cold. He shivers, opening the car and searching for the bag.

He grabs the bag, but drops it upon hearing a scream.

Which she failed and dropped out.

She's always been pretty stupid. Or maybe it was her carelessness. She never did try in her classes. Thinking back on it, it's a miracle someone like her ended up friends with y/n.

The two were polar opposites. But opposites attract, or something like that.

Y/n was always caught up with her studies. She was quiet, witty, and talented. Laura on the other hand, was a slacker. Her family knew it, and the school knew it. They all knew she wasn't going to make it far in life.

And deep inside, Laura knew it too. She loved to act tough and unaffected. But it was a facade.

So she became a leech. She leeched off of y/n. Stuck to her skin and sucked away her blood. She stayed at her house often, ate her food, copied her homework, borrowed her stuff, never returned it. . .

And yet. . .

Y/n never complained. She always welcomed her in.

Maybe that's why it hurt so much when she left for university in California.

Everyone knew it was gonna happen, except for Laura. Stupid ol' Laura thought Y/n would throw away her dreams just for her.

Laura never called. Not until she heard y/n came back home after an injury. She was bitter. But the news about her old friend re-opening her family shop ment there was a new opportunity to leech. She pushed right back into y/n's life like nothing ever happened. And again, she never complained.

And then, she disappeared.

If her going missing did anything, it made Laura realize her victim complex, her love to blame everything on everyone else.

Her hopeless future? Her parents fault.

Her failure in college? Her old friend who moved away without considering what was at home.

The disappearance of said friend? Her boyfriend's fault.

But now, as Laura clutches the hand gun, she's going to take responsibility for the first time in her life. She's going to save her friend, then leech off of her for the rest of their lives. Together.

Shit.

She forgot the bullets!

"Go grab them from the backseat." She tells Tim. He springs off, leaving her alone.

Her hand fumbles with the bottom of the window, struggling to push the dusty thing up. She's to preoccupied to realize that someone has snuck up on her.

A hand grabs her by the hair, pulling her to the ground.

She screams, grabbing at the hand.

"What do we have here?" A man's voice.

She tilts her head up to see an old man. He's wearing a sheriff's uniform. The name tag reads: "Hoyt."

"You're not Hoyt. . ." Laura whispers, eyes going wide.

"Course I am! Can't you read?" He says, tapping on the tag.

With a furious grunt, she punches his groin. He screeches, falling to the ground.

Laura gets up, stepping on the side of the man's face.

"Where's the real Hoyt? Where's Y/n?"

"T-Thomas!" Fake Hoyt chokes out.

The name rings familiar in her head. She turns when she hears the back door open behind them. A gasp escapes her lips as a huge man steps out. Dark curls hide his face, a blood stained shirt stretching across his bulky build.

It's the monster butcher who kidnapped her friend.

"Laura?"

Laura looks over at the new voice. It's Tim, a package of bullets in his hand. He's frozen, staring at the big man- Thomas.

"Get 'em, Thomas! They're here for your bitch!"

Laura steps back, getting off of fake Hoyt. Thomas steps forward, reaching to grab her.

She fights against him, clawing at his skin with her nails. Her other hand finds a screw driver on the table. With fear and adrenaline, she stabs it into Thomas's arm.

The big man screams, a terrible, gut wrenching sound. Laura sprints over to Tim, grabbing the bullets. Her shaky hands fumble with them, trying desperately to load the gun.

Hoyt gets up, limping over to them. Tim grabs him, pushing him to the floor and wrestling him down.

"Hurry up, Laura!"

She drops the bullets, they scatter all over the dark grass. Except for one. she managed to get it in. She has one shot. She'll put it in that beast.

Thomas rips the screwdriver from his arm, running down the porch towards them.

Laura readys the gun. Her hands shake, her thoughts race, her heart pounds. But as her thoughts fill of Y/n, she finds the bravery to pull the trigger.

BLAM.

A scream. She opens her eyes.

Thomas is still standing.

It only grazed him.

Behind her, Hoyt has over taken Tim, a knife in one hand and a fist beating the shit out of him.

She throws herself at him, knocking him off of Tim. She's not strong enough to fend him off, and he's up in an instant, pushing her to the floor.

Thomas regains himself, finally reaching them. Beside her, Tim spits out blood, then releases a strangled whine. She finds tears filling her eyes, fear and reality setting in. She's not invincible, this may just be her end.

But fake Hoyt recognized Y/n's name. She's here! She just has to escape and call the cops.

She looks over at Tim. He's in no shape to run out of here.

Hoyt picks up the gun off the floor, dusting the grass and finding a few bullets. He loads the gun, chuckling.

"Well Tommy, looks like we caught a couple hoodlums. Bring the man inside. I'll have some fun with this one."

He kicks Laura in the side, getting a yelp out of her.

Her body shakes, she wants to get up and run, but she's to afraid.

"Hold on, Tommy."

Thomas freezes, hands hovering above Tim.

Laura watches with fear, as Hoyt points the gun at Tim.

"NO, DON-"

BLAM.

The world starts spinning. A buzzing fills her brain, along with a loud shrill. As she realizes her throat is burning, she puts the dots together. She's screaming.

Beside her, Tim falls limp. A hole in his skull, blood spilling out of it and down the rises and dips of his bruised face.

"NO!"

She gets up to crawl over to him, but Hoyt slams her back down with his boot.

"Take him inside now, Tommy. "

Thomas slings Tim's lifeless body over his shoulder, not a care at all for the life that was once in it only a second before.

Sobs rip through her body. Her face goes numb, and nausea fills her.

Next, is pain. Hoyt kicks her in the rib again. She screams.

"My Nephew there's pretty impressive, ain't He? You're lucky it's me dealing with you and not him."

"FUCK YOU!" Laura sobs. Hoyt laughs, picking her up by the hair.

His hand grabs her face, pulling it closer to him. His breathe reeks of alcohol.

"Mmm, I love you!"

She punches him in the chest, escaping from his grip. She gets up, sprinting down the hill. Hoyt grabs her leg, tripping her. She rolls down, breaking a rib.

When she reaches the bottom, she stands and limps towards her car.

Gotta get out of here. Gotta get out.

"GET BACK HERE!"

She turns to see Hoyt running down the hill. The gun is raised.

Laura, ignoring the pain, sprints for the car.

BLAM.

A TERRIBLE PAIN IN HER SIDE.

She screams, hunching over. She doesn't stop running. Feet slamming on the grass furiously, carrying her to the car.

Her whole body is numb, cold. Her pain disappears. Her feet are no longer running, she's gliding down the grass. Like on a cloud. A cold cloud.

The first raindrop of fall hits the ground. The first fall rain of Texas this year. If only she had time to enjoy it.

She dives in, slamming the door, and starting the car.

Without looking to see how close Hoyt is, she slams on the gas, getting out of there as fast as possible.

Home. Home. Home.

Home. Home.

Home.

Home. . .

She has to get home and call the cops. She has to tell someone where y/n is.

Oh, y/n. She's so close. Laura is so close to saving her.

She parks in front of her house. Her parents are gone on a vacation, so nobody is there to help her. With shaking hands, she unlocks the door.

She doesn't bother to close it. She runs to the telephone, hanging from the wall in the kitchen.

She dials 911.

It rings.

And rings.

And it keeps ringing.

Something cold is beneath her. Her eyes drop down. She's fallen to the floor. The phone is in her hand. She can't lift it. Or anything, for that matter.

The pain comes back, tingling the corners of her fuzzy brain. Her eye sight goes first, plunging her into the dark.

Despite the cold night and the cold floor, warmth is all around her. She can't see it, but she can feel it. Blood. Pouring from her bullet wound.

And then, she can't feel anything. The phone buzzes on, fading away slowly, into nothing.