Brightness all the way up or it won't look right.

A little bit of lighting practice to make it look more alive...Im not really the best at coloring, I just sorta throw colors down and hope for the best, so I spent a little bit of time on this one.

This whole thing from start to finish took me maybe 1.5 hr to complete (color wise). The sketch took me like 10 minutes maybe.

Fawn's POV

His narrowed gaze was terrifying. The longer he stared at me the more uneasy I felt.

Then that psycho smile lessened into a more thoughtful one, and he hummed absentmindedly.

He put the lowered knife back into his vest and took his knee off my pancreas. His fist left my throat, instead sliding under my back as he gently helped me up.

"Ok then, uppsy-daisy," he said, that malicious tone he held only moments prior completely disappearing.

I allowed him to help me up, my body still quivering slightly from crying and from fear. My eyes felt a bit sore and I had a blank expression on my face.

His voice brought my attention back to him, "alright, dear, assuming you're not lying to me...if I house you while you try and find your way home, will you promise to do so promptly?" He asked.

Looking up at him, I was wondering what his angle was. Just seconds ago he wanted to stab me to death, and now he's offering me his house?

"What's the catch..." I mumbled, dropping my eyes to my hands. Keeping eye contact with him now is beyond difficult.

He clicked his tongue, "for as long as you need, you may use my house until you can figure out how to get home. If I find that you at any point lied to me-about anything-I will kill you."

The way he said it so nonchalantly was disturbing.

Finally I raised my eyes to meet his stare, "and if there's no way for me to get home...?" I asked, to which his smile immediately widened.

I got the message.

My throat felt dry and I wrung my hands in my lap. He stood up, and I followed his lead, facing him once we were both standing.

Looking up at him I realized I really am fully at his mercy...whatever he wants, whatever he tells me to do, I have to do it if I want to survive.

And that's terrifying.

He held his hand towards me, raising an eyebrow as he smirked down at me, "it's a deal, then?"

Glancing at his outstretched hand, I furrowed my brows. Sighing, my eyes shut and I quickly reached forward and grabbed his hand, sealing my fate.

"Wonderful," he purred.

It's the only option I had.

If I refused his deal, he would've killed me, I'm sure of it. However, I know-and I think he knows-that I have absolutely no ideas for how I'm going to get home.

I barely even know how I got here.

Him finding out about a lie isn't something I have to worry about-but if I can't figure out a way home, and fast, my entire life is now on borrowed time.

I might as well be wearing a countdown on my chest.

Prolonging my now inevitable death is probably the cowardly thing to do-but what else am I supposed to do? Just let him murder me the first chance he gets?

The longer I thought about it, the tighter my throat felt. A new wave of tears sprouted behind my eyes, worming their way to the surface.

He released my hand, and I opened my eyes to look up at him. The moment I caught sight of him, everything solidified in my brain, becoming painfully real.

This isn't a nightmare.

This isn't something I can run away from.

I'm 97 years away from home, and stuck in a house with a serial killer that just made a game out of whether I get to live or die.

My vision clouded with tears and I quickly let my face fall into my hands to hide. Am I crying because I'm frustrated? Sad? Scared?

All of the above?

Who knows, but the tears just kept coming down my face as I wept pitifully into my hands. My shoulders heaved with sobs, and I balled my fists in front of my eyes, trying to get them to stop crying.

Alastor was silent, I wasn't even sure if he was still standing there. It's not like he gives a shit anyway, he probably enjoys the sound of my crying.

"...cher?" He spoke suddenly, and at the feeling of his fingers just barely touching my shoulder I yanked away from him.

"Don't fucking touch me!" I seethed, tearing my eyes away from my fists to glare at him through my tears. He blinked in surprise, but sighed, rolling his shoulders back.

"Darling, I don't understand why you're so upset-"

I cut him off right there.

"You don't understand why I'm so upset?!" I choked out at him, my breaths stuttering as I tried and failed to calm myself down. I threw my hand out, gesturing to his living room.

"Look at where I am! Even if you think my story is bullshit, even if this is just some sick little game to you, imagine how I fucking feel!" I screamed, pulling my hand to my chest and pointing to myself roughly.

My lips quivered as I tried to keep the waver in my voice controlled, "imagine being put in a place you aren't familiar with, only to immediately be treated like some sort of game animal!"

He stared at me silently, and my voice cracked with my next words.

"Try putting yourself in my shoes! Or do you just not have basic human empathy anymore? Are you a complete sociopath? Fuck you." My voice trembled and I hiccuped.

I fell silent, the only noises being my whimpers and hiccups as I fought back more sobs.

He was quiet, and when he was sure I was done screaming at him, he spoke.

"Are you done?" He asked me, tilting his head.

I just looked over at him, big tears dripping down my cheeks. My skin felt hot and I know I probably look like a mess, but what do I care.

Sighing, he took a couple of steps closer to me, and held his hand out, motioning for me to come closer.

Immediately I shook my head no.

With a heavy eye roll, he reached forward and snatched me by the arm, pulling me towards him.

My body squirmed and I fought to get away from him, but his strength was honestly a little scary. He let go of my arm to hold my waist tightly, and I struggled against him, pushing against his chest.

Then I felt a soft cloth against my face as he started to wipe away my tears.

"Shhhhh..." he hushed me softly as if I were an infant, "you're going to make yourself sick..."

What he just did reminded me so vehemently of my mother that I completely ceased my struggling, opening my eyes to look up at him.

His expression was no longer condescending or psychotic...it was more just...calm.

The cloth felt nice against my skin, and his hold against my waist slowly loosened as I began to relax.

"There we go..." he cooed softly, "calm down..."

As much as I hated to admit it, his voice was soothing.

Using that same handkerchief, he firmly wiped the snot away from my nose. I had stopped crying, but unfortunately he was right when he said I was going to make myself sick.

I felt just slightly queasy.

"There is no need for all of that nonsense..." he spoke softly, "now, I know I scared you, and I know this must be difficult-if you're telling me the truth-but the fact of the matter is we are both stuck with the other until the issue is resolved..."

Despite the tears having stopped, my lip still trembled and I shook my head, my voice now coming hoarse.

"B-but what if the issue can't be resolved?" I said, staring up at him. His close proximity wasn't as uncomfortable as it should be, but I think that's because I desperately need a hug right now and he's sort of doing that.

His lips met in a tired smile and he sighed through his nose. For a moment he just looked down at me, probably thinking about how utterly pathetic I look.

"If you got here, there is a way back..." he said slowly, tilting his head slightly, "doesn't that seem like it would make sense?" He asked, and reluctantly I nodded.

His hand slipped away from my waist, releasing me as he stepped away.

He cleared his throat slightly, and placed his arms behind his back. My eyes fell to my feet, the floor suddenly seeming very interesting after that lightweight mental breakdown I just had.

The silence was thick, and I wasn't exactly sure where to go from here.

"Don't..." he started, but paused. I looked up at him, and he was just staring at me. Then he started up again, "don't think that just because I'm a killer...means I'm going to treat you terribly. I am not going to abuse you, I am not going to...to do anything inappropriate to you," he explained with casual hand motions.

"Right now you are a guest in this house, and you'll be treated as such...understand?" He asked finally, and I gazed off to the side.

How can someone so psychotic turn into some hospitable gentlemen like he didn't just have me pinned to the couch with the full intent to murder me?

Nonetheless, I nodded, and that smile of his perked back up in an instant.

"Splendid! Now that that's out of the way...how about a bath, hm? You're absolutely filthy, darling, and those clothes will have to go, too," he said, making me look down at my outfit.

Running shorts and a tank top.

Yea, this probably isn't the most socially acceptable outfit for this time period.

"Ok..." I muttered quietly, inching my way closer to him.

He threw his arm around my shoulder and began leading me towards what I'm guessing is a bathroom. He was going on and on about politics and whatever news was going on, but I couldn't force myself to listen to him.

Right now I just feel numb.

Praying to whatever deity wants to listen that I can fix this problem...

Before it's too late.