Haunted once again by the nightmares of his childhood, Pete is beginning to fear that these twisted scenes may be more than figments of his imagination, that they may be trying to warn him of somet...
It was quiet downstairs, and I haven't heard anything from Rae in almost two hours.
I walk down the hallway and knock on the bathroom door.
I knock again, this time a little harder, and wait a few seconds.
She doesn't answer.
I race down the stairs and check the time on the cable box.
2:32 October 13.
Rae's day to die.
I feel my breath hitch and run into the kitchen, where Patrick stands, staring out the glass door and into the night, a faraway look on his face.
"Have you seen Rachael?" I ask, feeling myself begin to panic.
"No," he sighs, his voice emotionless and his stare never breaking from the darkness beyond the door.
"What are you staring at?" I ask, following his line of vision out the door, but all I can see is the outskirts of the forest.
"Emma's out there somewhere, she was trying to stop him."
At that I feel my self fall into complete panic.
"H-he was here?"
Patrick simply nods his head.
"Oh my God..."
"Rae's not answering the door upstairs."
Patrick finally breaks his gaze and stares at me,"What do you mean she isn't answering the door?"
"I knocked and called her name and she didn't open the door or say anything."
"Is it locked."
I nod my head vigorously, feeling myself begin to spiral into a panic attack.
"Joe! Andy!" Patrick calls into the house.
I lean against the door for support and struggle to breathe.
"Pete? Pete, stay with me, dude." Patrick looks at me worriedly.
I shake my head, sucking in a huge breath of air and letting it out trying to stabilize myself.
Patrick says something but I can't hear him over the roaring in my ears.
I blink hard, trying to bring everything back into focus, but it only gets worse.
I feel my breath quicken and my hands fly to my throat, I'm hyperventilating.
"I" I gasp for air, "I can't breathe," I finally manage.
Andy and Joe rush into the room, and Patrick starts to panic as well.
"He's having a panic attack!" Patrick explains urgently.
Joe reaches out and presses the back of his hand to my forehead.
"He doesn't have a fever dip shit he's hyperventilating!" Andy says, bustling around the kitchen, tearing through cabinets searching for something.
Andy starts to give instructions to Patrick and Joe, but again it's all drowned out by the tinnitus in my ears.
Joe races out of the room and up the stairs and Patrick walks over to me and helps me sit down at the table.
I try to gasp out a few words but I end up just sucking in more air, my lips becoming dry and chalky.
"Don't try to talk," Patrick reprimands as Joe rushes back with a wash cloth.
He hands it off to Patrick and Patrick wipes the sweat from my forehead.
I'm freezing and shaking.
Andy walks over and takes my pulse on my wrist.
"Come on, Pete, try to calm your breathing," he says,"Breathe in slowly and blow out."
Moments later my breathing has calmed dramatically and I'm starting to feel alright.
"Are you OK now?" Patrick asks, still looking worried.
I nod my head.
"We have to get in there," I say, finally catching my breath.
"Way ahead of you," Joe grins.
"And just how are we gonna get in there fast enough?" Patrick asks skeptically.
"I'm from Hollywood, I have a key," Joe reaches into his pocket,"My debit card."
We rush up the stairs and Joe jams his card into the crack between the door and the wall and starts jiggling the handle.
Within seconds the doorknob clicks and he flings the door open, revealing an empty bathroom and an open window.
We stare in panicked silence until Andy decides to voice the thought that we're all thinking.