[SWAMP 2 - STRUGGLE]

A connecting wire snaps up from the trap’s pressure, and once again the swamp cuts into perfect silence.

Valerie groans into her teeth as she stamps her foot, looking torn between either comforting or chastising him.

“Masaru! Dammit all!”

Masaru shoves his wrist into his mouth as he attempts to stifle the scream, but it’s too late.

Like the pulling of a curtain, the trap wire cues in the slow, suffocating arrival of the noise.

It fills their ears as Valerie attempts to secure Masaru by the arm and support him over her shoulders.

“I’m sorry!” he shouts into his wrist.

The cabin is there again in the distance, its lights shining with warm invitation.

“The moment you lose focus on where you’re stepping, the traps will be waiting,” she explains.

“Bullshit!” Masaru pushes into his hand before pulling it away with a gasp, “that ground didn’t look any different!”

“Maybe it did, and you just got full of yourself!” Valerie snaps.

Masaru grits his teeth as they hurry along. He doesn’t have anything to say about that.

The noise envelopes them like a trash bag of pure sound tightened over their heads.

They rush down the way to the cabin, Valerie grunting in both exertion and fury at Masaru.

“This is just like last time,” Masaru says.

“Damn right it is!” Valerie snips as she manages their pace just enough to avoid any more pitfalls.

They make headway as they get over a wire set in their path, and keep on until they hit the steps of the cabin.

“Remember the trap on the doo-”

“Don’t have to tell me,” Valerie interrupts over Masaru as she leaves him to go up to the door.

This time, she gets all the way to the side of the steps and well out of the path of the door bolt’s path. Rearing back the buttstock of her rifle, she slams open the door, opening it without her risking herself at the aperture.

The crossbow trigger-tied to the tripwire isn’t waiting behind the door this time. In fact, it’s waiting between the slats of the stairs, aimed for the outer edge of the steps.

A bolt slaps smoothly into her ankle, sending her over on the stair step, which she immediately discovers is covered with upturned nails.

Masaru jolts to help her as she roars out some truly unpublishable things.

She curses out at the ground as she rolls back into the dirt. Her voice is marked with a palpable mix of agony and utter, bewildered mania.

As he attempts to get her back to her feet, Masaru hears some glass breaking nearby.

All of a sudden, the noise stops.

Masaru and Valerie look around the dark swamp for red eyes: any indication of The Stranger.

Their eyes dart about like rabbits searching burrows for crimson snakes, as they slowly step their way up to the door.

“I’m going first,” he insists.

She nods quickly as she sets her grip up on the side of a curtained windowsill, her eyes glancing down at the steps for any peeking bolts ready to fire.

Entering the golden warmth of the cabin, Masaru feels a flush of relief as he scans about for anything wrong.

It takes him a second to look it over, but it’s truly just a cabin.

“It’s… it’s good!” Masaru exclaims, turning around and giving her his hand to help her up.

She sighs with relief as she hobbles up with him into the room, and they take a moment to assess their surroundings.

The place is, in a word: wonderful.

Rustic hearth pieces adorn a lit-yet-smokeless fireplace, as plush leather furniture cover the room with multiple opportunities for comfort.

Lamps with golden light low enough to not compete with the crackling fire illuminate the various amenities, to include hot cocoa, widescreen tv, mini fridge, bookcase stacked high with classic novels, and a couple bottles of wine.

The aforementioned supplies are also there. Medical kits, food, water, and even some tools like shovels and flashlights lie in organized stacks and rows, waiting for someone to take them along.

An enormous woven rug completes the picture, muffling the creaky floorboards and softening their steps.

At the other side of the room lies a door, surely leading to the single bedroom in the cabin.

It’s a fantastically intimate little place… Some might say a little too fantastic.

“Wow, now this is nice,” he says with a wry smirk as he secures the dense door latch. “How long were you able to stay here?”

Valerie lowers herself into a chair with a wince. “About an hour, but I didn’t trigger any traps.”

Masaru nods as he makes a round to check windows for any red-eyed freaks waiting outside, but there’s no one to be seen.

“Well, I’m sure we have a little time here at least,” he concludes with a sigh.

She shrugs while she leans forward to grab one of the medical kits. “By this point I’m not sure if anything from this place makes sense,” she says, opening the kit to retrieve some gauze and painkillers.

Masaru nods again as he ensures each window is locked before he heads over to the bedroom door. “Well, let’s just hope that bastard can’t get in right away. I’m going to lock this place up right and with the rifle we’ll-”

Upon opening the door, he stops.

Valerie, at the corner of the cabin next to the fireplace, glances over. “What is it?”

The salaryman trembles as he looks upon a broken window, the glass cleared out and the opening large enough to accommodate a huge, maniacal, person-hunting freak.

Masaru looks up, and he sees huge, thirsty red eyes before a mass of knives, axes, and tools pile into him.

The drowning feeling comes as fast as Valerie’s scream. Despite the utter brutality of it, this one is his fastest death yet.

“Did The Stranger always have that many arms?” he asks himself as he fades into the dark as a shovel’s blade breaks through his skull with a singular, shattering impact.

Then there’s the drowning overwhelming him. He’s somewhere else. He’s not sure where it is, not until he hears the cicadas.

The stiletto enters his aortic arch again – Masaru cannot see the face of his killer.