[ Chris' legs feel like rubber when the psycho starts laughing like that, like he's not sure if he's uncontrollably pleased a potential victim has come looking for him or if he's annoyed to be interrupted in the middle of-- whatever it was he was doing. It doesn't really matter the reason for the outburst; it sounds choked and strange and Chris feels vulnerable just listening to it.
The killer coming towards him, lumbering and loud, shakes him all over again, reminding his brain that this is a dire circumstance and that he isn't exactly equipped to handle it, but he holds position, swallowing around his heart in his throat. He raises the board a little higher, trying to steady himself.
The distorted voice vibrates throughout the barn when the killer speaks again, taunting, throwing Chris' stupid questions back on him. Yes, he knows Josh is gone. That reality is scorched on his brain, the blood and guts to prove it reappearing again and again under his eyelids whenever Chris squeezes his eyes shut. But he came back anyway. And maybe he's a complete idiot to head back into the danger zone, but it's too late to turn back. He's gritting his teeth when the killer throws up his hands and needlessly reminds him that Josh is gone, but he can't help the pathetic noise that escapes his lips, a shuddering breath bordering on a sob.
But he has to act. This isn't a ghost, the kind of thing he's good at shrugging off as fake; this is a person, a physical body with the capability and the drive to hurt him and more of his friends, so he has to act. He shouldn't have hesitated before. He should have rushed in and finished this before it even started.
He watches those fingers tap at the belt, mind racing with horrible possibilities. And the killer's getting closer again. And Chris has to do something. He counts three breaths. ]
Yeah? Well. [ Another heavy breath, painful and shattered. ] Well, I'm here.
[ Chris hasn't been in many fights in his life, but he sees the other hand rises as some sort of defense, so when he swings, he swings in the hopes of bypassing it, and when he swings, he swings hard. He's not as coordinated as Matt or Mike might have been, but he puts all the force of his fear into the attack. The head is the best target. If he can get the guy to stumble, then he'll have the upper-hand for at least a second. So, he aims for the head, sweeping the board down and across in the hopes of hitting both the killer's temple and ear. ]
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The killer coming towards him, lumbering and loud, shakes him all over again, reminding his brain that this is a dire circumstance and that he isn't exactly equipped to handle it, but he holds position, swallowing around his heart in his throat. He raises the board a little higher, trying to steady himself.
The distorted voice vibrates throughout the barn when the killer speaks again, taunting, throwing Chris' stupid questions back on him. Yes, he knows Josh is gone. That reality is scorched on his brain, the blood and guts to prove it reappearing again and again under his eyelids whenever Chris squeezes his eyes shut. But he came back anyway. And maybe he's a complete idiot to head back into the danger zone, but it's too late to turn back. He's gritting his teeth when the killer throws up his hands and needlessly reminds him that Josh is gone, but he can't help the pathetic noise that escapes his lips, a shuddering breath bordering on a sob.
But he has to act. This isn't a ghost, the kind of thing he's good at shrugging off as fake; this is a person, a physical body with the capability and the drive to hurt him and more of his friends, so he has to act. He shouldn't have hesitated before. He should have rushed in and finished this before it even started.
He watches those fingers tap at the belt, mind racing with horrible possibilities. And the killer's getting closer again. And Chris has to do something. He counts three breaths. ]
Yeah? Well. [ Another heavy breath, painful and shattered. ] Well, I'm here.
[ Chris hasn't been in many fights in his life, but he sees the other hand rises as some sort of defense, so when he swings, he swings in the hopes of bypassing it, and when he swings, he swings hard. He's not as coordinated as Matt or Mike might have been, but he puts all the force of his fear into the attack. The head is the best target. If he can get the guy to stumble, then he'll have the upper-hand for at least a second. So, he aims for the head, sweeping the board down and across in the hopes of hitting both the killer's temple and ear. ]