CYS: Attack him with the knife
From Create Your Own Story
You can't give up the element of surprise, especially if he is hostile. You take a deep breath, tightly gripping you knife in one hand. You turn the corner and with a shout jump into the intruder. " oh, hey bud- " you land on his chest, sending you both to the floor. You stab at his shoulder and neck multiple times, blood spraying your face and walls. The figure pushes you off sending you flying back onto the floor, the knife left in his neck. "WHAT THE FUCK!" Wait a second, you recognize that voice Freddy!? As you look at the figure rising to his knees, you see his face, the face of your old friend from when you were both five. You continue to stare at his face as he pulls out the knife and drops it, leaning against your dresser. He is already pale from blood loss, though he gives you a faint smile "Fuck man, guess i deserve that for not knocking" he coughs up blood and falls back to the ground. Realization of what is happening hits you, and you jump to him, cradling his head while to try to stop the blood flow. The blood seeps past your hand onto the floor, pooling at your knees "Why the fuck were you in my house man?! WHY THE FUCK DID YOU NOT LET ME KNOW!?" He coughs more blood, splattering your shirt, before rasping a response "people... changing... didn't know... if you did... they got Dave, the city is full of them.." You can barely understand him, Dave was his brother, an army guy. The guy was invincible, a damn war hero "WHAT DO YOU MEAN? WHO IS THEY? WHO KILLED DAVE?" Fred tries to speak, but only gurgles before falling silent. You continue to hold your dead friend for god knows how long. It takes a while for you to register that you can hear noise outside. You close Fred's eyes, before standing up and looking out the window. The glowing fog seems to have overtaken the mountain, though not spreading any further into the forest. As you watch, red lightning seems to burst forth from the fog, striking the forest. People seem to be walking out of their houses, most pointing at the fog and shouting. Many seem to just jump in their cars and drive away. Others run inside, shutting their doors. You pick up your knife, wiping off the blood on your shirt, before sheathing it in your belt. You feel numb, unable to think clearly, and just simply sit on your bed, trying to process this.
