Johnny carried his full vile of blood to grandpa, wiping his knife clean at the bare skin of his arm before putting it back in the sheath at his belt.

"There you go, Grandpa.. get your fill"

He murmured in a deep, southern drawl and slowly dripped the blood into his mouth. The old man groaned a bit in his chair, loving the taste of fresh blood.

Johnny looked around a bit, seeing Leatherface and Hitchhiker on the other side of the slaughterhouse property, hunting for the remaining victims that fled from their bounds in the basement, just like you.

He may or may not have noticed you hiding nearby, but it couldn't take long for the hunter to find you.. right?..