There he was walking over to me in the hallway. The man from the picture Mallory texted me, but he looked much worse for his wear in-person. His skin was horrifically dried out, looking like it might flake off his skin and softly drift to the floor like the snowflakes which fell outside.
I tried to back into my room, but didn’t have time. The man was just feet away from me and I fell to the floor, still clumsy and drunk.
I tried to scramble back to my feet, but no luck. The man was now towering above me, peering down at me with dark eyes, I put my hands out in front of me in a pathetic defense, looking like a turtle stuck on its back trying to fight off a hungry wolf.
The last thing I saw before I closed my eyes was the man opening his mouth wide to reveal a crooked set of yellow teeth which he descended down upon me. I could smell the hot stench of rot upon his breath in the darkness of closed eyes.
Just as I could feel that awful breath upon me. It was gone. I opened my eyes in a flash and saw a wrestling match taking place next to me in the hallway, literally on top of Brandon’s bleeding body.
It took a few moments to fully absorb what was taking place, but the man with the stinking breath’s opponent eventually became familiar.
