There's something about fear that makes the mind and the body react in unpredictable ways. And when that fear originates from the thought of being chopped to pieces by an axe murderer, I guess it's safe to say nothing is logical anymore.
I feel like we've been running forever, but barely going anywhere. It's like being in a dream. You can run, but not really move. You can scream, but no one can hear you.
Someone was in that house. They were there the whole time, probably watching us. It was probably their axe we found.
When we make it to the street, I cry out in relief. I bend over, resting my hands on my knees and trying to catch my breath. That was intense.
"I'm never coming back to this place again!" Mark pants.
"Me either," Pria agrees, fixing her ponytail.
"Who do you think was
