Running across the bridge and over the acidic waters, you make a mad dash to the cemetery, where you know Builderman has managed to set up a small refuge— a sentry to keep the raging 1x1x1x1 at bay.

Every step sends sharp jolts of pain down your side; you suspect there’s something off with your ribs. You wouldn’t be surprised, considering the killer had thrown you against a wall back at the old house.

Thankfully he had gotten distracted when Shedletsky called out his name, brandishing his sword as if challenging the furious killer.

He yelled at you to run, so you did.

__

Builderman looks up at you, the stress set on his face shifting into concern as he sees you stumble in through the gates of the cemetery.

“Woah— hey, hey, settle down,” he rushes to your side, arm hooked over your uninjured side, helping you sit down closer to his sentry. “I’ll fix up a dispenser for you, alright?