Sophia run her hands through her hair in frustration. She couldn't let Shawn open his mouth. Allowing that meant jeopardising her relationship with Philip, and John - because there was no way she was going to have a satisfied relationship with only one of them. It was either she had both or none at all, and she wasn't ready to give them up too. She had to find a way to silence that bastard.

With an angry grunt she kicked at the boxes she and John had arranged earlier that night. They toppled over, spilling their contents. Farm tools were scattered all over and Sophia had no intention of putting them back in their respective boxes. She placed both hands on her waist and took in deep breaths to calm herself, while her eyes roamed the room, her brain trying to conjure a plan to deal with Shawn.

It was at the corner of room, the dagger. It reflected the glints of the dim bulb on the walls as she picked it up. She turned it over in her hand, running her hands over the wooden handle which had carvings of different shapes on it.

It must have fallen out out one of the boxes when she kicked them, it certainly hadn't been there when she and John had been packing beforehand.

She looked closely at the carvings; she could make out a little girl with long hair and a tall man holding a cane. A closer inspection revealed that the cane was in fact a sword and the long hair of the girl was actually snakes, their forked tongues looking very sharp.

A loud bump sounded from her right and she jumped causing the knife to prick the skin of her little finger.

"Oww." She yelped as her blood seeped out from her small wound onto the knife. She put her finger in her mouth and sucked on it, neutralising the pain.

Still holding the knife she watched in horror as her blood crawled over the blade, wrapped itself around it and disappeared, as if the knife had absorbed it. She inspected it thoroughly, her blood was gone, gone through the knife. Creeped out she stared at the blade, her green eyes staring back at her. Then she gasped. Her reflection on the blade, the colour of her eyes, slowly turned from green to blood red, as if the blood from her cut had been absorbed into them.

She stared on wide-eyed, unable to move, as the eyes blinked back at her.

...

Shawn trudged through thick mud to the car, using the torch of his phone to guide him in the dark. The small umbrella had done nothing to protect him from the heavy rain, he was wet from head to toe and felt the beginnings of a cold.

Upon reaching the car he threw the umbrella in some direction, pocketed his phone and yanked open the driver's door, going inside. He combed the entire place and finally found the box of his cigarettes under the passenger seat. Hiding them in his pants to protect them from the rain he climbed out.

He looked around. Where had he thrown the damn umbrella? It was pretty useless but if he could just use it to cover the area where he had hidden the cigars he could keep them from being totally destroyed.

After seconds of scanning around and catching no sight of the black umbrella in the downpour he brushed it off and headed back on the direction he had come. Few steps away from the car he heard a twig snap and stopped, listening. Another twig snapped and he took a cautious step forward, on the alert.

"Hello? Is anyone there? Philip, Alex, are you guys trying to play a prank on me?" He called out, the rain drowning his voice.

From the corner of his eye he saw movement and quickly turned to see what he thought was a shadow flit by and disappear behind a tree. He squinted but could not make anything out, there was nothing to see. He loosened up. He was seeing and hearing things, side effects of his alcohol problem.

He walked a few metres away when he head a twig snap again, and another and another and another. Now he was convinced that someone was there with him. "Hello? Who is there? Philip? Johnny boy? Alex? Stop playing pranks, it's not funny."

He was answered with more snaps of twigs and rustling of leaves. Seeing a club beside him, he armed himself with it and tried to walk around the trees, in the direction of the sounds. They increased and it felt like they came from either sides of him, surrounding him.

"Whoever you are come out now! I have a weapon and I am not afraid to use it." He bellowed and the sky responded with a boom of thunder and flash of lightning.

No one came out. No more twigs snapped. No more rustling of leaves. All was silent except for the continuous raging rain all around him. Shawn massaged his temples and gave a small chuckle. He was definitely going insane and made a mental note to set an appointment with his dad's shrink once they were out of this place. And he had to return to the cabin and get himself out of his soaked clothes; he was definitely going to have a cold.

He threw the club away, then checked on his cigars. Thankfully they were still dry, awaiting their use.

Behind him the car creaked and he spun to see the front tire fall out and roll, stopping right in front of him. Rough slashes marked the deflated tire, the work of a sharp knife.

The noise from behind was unmistakable, someone was behind him. Slowly, unwillingly, he turned back and caught a glimpse of blood red eyes and he knew with utmost certainty that he was never going to smoke those cigars in his pants.

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