You'd been running for so long you felt like you were going to puke, but you couldnt stop now. It was either escape, or die trying. you'd just witnessed a horrible scene straight out of a slasher film, and in the span of one night, all of your friends were dead. Gone forever. Your racing thoughts of revenge and suffering came to a halt when you reached the road. It seemed you'd lost him. You were drenched in blood, scratched up and about ready to pass out when you saw headlights approaching in the dead of night. You called out for help and the truck slowed to a crawl. A bald man peered out of the window at you in innocent concern.

"Oh god, are you alright?!" he cried when he saw the bloodstains that'd ruined your favorite outfit. He rushed out of his vehicle to help you. He was so kindly and eager to assist you, asking questions about the horrible masked man who'd done this to you and offering to take you home..

With how caring and gentle he was, how could you have known that it was him all along, here to finish the job?