As cold as a witch's tit in a brass bra

His legs were moving but no matter how fast her ran it seemed like they were always faster.

“Marcus, you should play this!” One of them screamed, blood dripping from his nails.

“Marcus, watch this movie!” Shrieked another, barring their teeth.

Their suggestions were so bad but he couldn’t get away. Pushing the branches out of his path as he stumbled through the forest, Marcus’ foot got caught on an exposed root. He was forced to the ground by gravity. On the ground but unable to get up from the shock, all he could do was look over his shoulder. They would surely catch him now.

He will his eyes shut, not daring to open them again. The chanting of his pursuers grew louder with sound of his name. They reached him and began clawing at his arms, asking, no, begging for more video.

Marcus shot straight up in his bed. His eyes wide and breaths quick in desperation to draw in another breath. With the edged of his blanket clutches tightly in his hands he finally began to calm down. The heaves of his chest slowing. The was until his gaze shifted over to the door. It was open and someone was there, watching.

Shakily, the youtuber reach to his night stand and turned the lamp on, illuminating the figure at his door. His breathing stopped all together. How could this be possible? A trail of cold sweated winded its way down Marcus’ face as he stared at ''him. How could he be here? He wasn’t real!''

He shuddered as the figure spoke.

“Fire in the hole…”