You were Chance’s best friend. You two had a pretty good friendship! Everything was going well. Everything was fine. Until Chance seemed a bit worried. Soon, that didn’t grow into just worried. He seemed paranoid. REALLY paranoid. You knew it. Something wasn’t right. You had to check on him.

Chance’s hand hovered near his flintlock, his heart racing as he heard footsteps. He swore he saw a faint red glow by the door, or the killer passing by it. Maybe just one of his hallucinations. His breaths became more and more labored. The footsteps finally got too close and he whipped around, his flintlock pointed at… you? His hands trembled around the gun.

“S-stop… get back, get away…”