Fight for life.
Yūrei- Yūrei are a type of Japanese ghost, usually female (though males do exist), traditionally shown as wearing all white with long black hair that hangs in front of their face. They are typically bound to specific places or objects, and often have a mission of vengeance.
------Alfred's point of view------
There was no way The hero was going to be killed by the very thing that made his favorite food.
I scrambled on top of the fridge. From here I could see the meat grinder slowly wheeling it's way over.
"AH HA HA HA HA! You can't do shit bro!" I crowed, sneering down at the metal machine.
It rammed into the fridge. I teetered dangerously close to the edge.
I really hated to have an metal object prove me wrong.
Standing up, I lept onto the cabinets. For a split second, my feet dangled over the edge. Pulling myself up, I flattened to fit between the ceiling and cabinets. It was a tight squeeze.
It kept getting tighter.
The ceiling was dipping down, crushing the breath out of my lungs.
Death by meat grinder or death by ceiling?
I really didn't like my options.
Pulling my self out, I dangled by my finger tips. The meat grinder made the sound of metal on metal.
I looked around for an escape. A large metal door was slightly ajar at the other end of the kitchen.
I let go, barrel rolled past the meat grinder and ran for the door.
A large shape rammed into me and a pain shot through my arm. I looked up.
A large cat with two tails had it's teeth in my arm.
"GET OFF!!" I slammed my arm against the wall. It yowled, but didn't let go. I slammed it again, noticing the fast approach of the meat grinder.
Pulling my arm back, I swiped the air like I was pitching a ball. Th cat flew off my arm and landed right inside the grinder.
Blood flew out, hitting me on the face. I saw the panicked face of the monster before it was pulled in.
With a loud hiss, screech and the sound of crunching bone, It was gone.
Sadly, the meat grinder wasn't.
Standing up I ran for the metal door. Only to be hit again, this time in the head.
"Sorry comrade! I vas not seeing you sere!" A familiar voice chuckled.
Ivan had opened the kitchen door and was standing there with that idiotic grin on his face.
"UM DUDE! MOVE." I tried to shove past him. He didn't budge.
"DUDE MOVE!" My voice cracked, I looked to see how close the meat grinder was. It was only five feet away.
"Little Alfred is being afraid of little metal sing?" He mocked, smirking.
"No, He's afraid of dieing Jackass." I snarled. I heard it moving closer.
"I vill be dealing vis it. You go back to se osers." He grabbed my arm and shoved me out of the kitchen, closing the door behind him.
"ARE YOU INSANE!!!" I yelped, pounding on the door. I only got a muffled chuckle in response.
-------Ivan's point of view-------
I watched as the machine approached. This was going to be easy.
I pressed my back against a large metal door. The machine paused, then shrieked into over-drive, heading at full speed towards me.
Seconds before I could be smashed into burgers, I ducked behind the door.
I felt the machine, smash to pieces. Metal shrapnel pinged off the walls of the kitchen.
I reached to open the door.
The handle wouldn't turn.
Looking around I noticed and air vent. To small for me.
Ah well. I would just have to wait. Good think I brought Vodka.
Sitting against the wall, I fished a bottle out of my coat. Something turned on over head.
I looked up, It was some sort of cooling device.
I looked at my surroundings again.
I was in a meat locker.
Good thing I knew how to survive in Siberia during the winter.
This was going to be easy.
-----Your point of view------
The large Russian was trapped in the meat locker.
He would parish, frozen, screaming for his life.
You pressed your face against the air vent to get a better look.
He pulled a bottle out of his coat and grinned at his surrounds.
Out of all of them, he was the one you hated the most. His stupid childish, I don't car attitude really got on your nerves.
You smirked. At least he would last long in the cold.
You snapped your fingers and watched as the thermometer sank to below 0 degrees fahrenheit. And kept sinking.
"Just like summer in Siberia!" He chuckled, taking a swig from the bottle.
You scowled, snapping your fingers again. The temperature dropped drastically.
"It vill be taking more sen sat to be killing me little voman."
He paused, thinking. "Vere I am from, You are like a Rusalka." He chuckled.
"But sere is no lake nearby. So you are not a true Rusalka."
"You are sinking. How is he knowing I am here?" His violet eyes glared up at the vent.
You slithered out of the vent, landing in front of him.
"No. I am wondering, why you aren't DEAD!" You grabbed his scarf and wiped it off his neck.
"YOU SHOULD BE DEAD!" You screamed, your hair danced about your head.
"And you, should not have done sat." He stood up, his eyes hidden by his hair.
You felt fear for the first time in over fifty years.
He grabbed your wrists, and slammed you against the wall. Your hair formed tiny claws and started attacking his face.
He lifted you off the ground easily and through you against the other wall.
"Don't try sat again." He picked up the scarf, opened the door and left.
You lay panting on the ground. Your hair fluttered about your face in worry.
Time to bring out the big guns.
-----Arthur's point of view-----
"Were the bloody fuck are they?" I growled. Frenchy and Yao shrugged.
I scowled, I was just like Alfred to get lost in a house. Probably searching for food.
Ivan had probably tagged along to scare him or something.
"I'm going to look for them."
Francis shrugged, but Yao looked worried. "You sure that's safe?"
I rolled my eyes. "I'll be fine!"
Walking out of the room I glanced around. Actually maybe it wasn't safe. But I couldn't turn back, Francis would laugh at me......or try to.
I hummed "God Save the Queen." to keep my spirits up. Damn. The woman who ran this place really need to slap a coat of paint on the walls.
They were a disgusting moldy looking burgundy. I leaned in closer and sniffed.
The walls smelled rotten. Gross.
Reaching out, I hesitantly touched one. My hand came away sticky.
Uch! It was some type of blood!!
I quickly stumbled back, trying to shake the goo off.
It might be better moving in a group.
I flung open the door.
It wasn't the room.
It was a long room filled with covered paintings and old furniture. I stepped inside, a chill shot through me.
I approached the nearest painting and wiped the cover off. A blood red imprint of several children's hands and a cat paw. As I watched they slowly vanished. The canvas melted into the floor with a soft sigh.
I lifted the cover off the next one. It was a picture of several chefs. Each one had a red heart etched on their foreheads. I waited for it to melt.
I leaned closer. It burst into flame, sizzling and screaming.
I yelped, falling backwards.
My hand hit an even larger painting.
Pulling the cover off I gaped.
It was of us. Yao, Ivan, Alfred, Francis and I.
Ivan was frozen in a picture of pure terror, icicles hanging off his lips.
Yao was crushed beneth a cabinet full of knives, blood oozing out of his mouth.
Alfred's head was inside some sort of metal contraption.
Francis was vomiting blood, a pair of white hands protruding from his mouth.
I grimaced then turned towards the "Me" on the painting. It was rather small.
I leaned forward and squinted.
It was me, leaning over a painting, a woman in white standing behind with a.......
I hurled myself to the right.
A silver arc hit the painting were I had been standing.
It was the girl who had let us in. Her face was twisted in fury, no longer were her eyes (E/C). They had turned pitch black.
"WOT THE BLOODY FUCK?!" I scrambled backwards.
"YOU-WILL-PAY." She advanced with the knife held high. "I've switched the rooms around. No one will come to save you."
My throat felt dry. Licking my lips, I looked around for a weapon.
"You can't kill what's already DEAD." She hissed, her lips pulled back over her sharp white teeth. Her hair wiped wildly about her head.
Something brushed against my hand. I looked down.
It was a lock of her hair.
Picking it up, I held it out to her.
She paused, her gruesome leer faltering. I moved it side to side. Her eyes followed, narrowing slightly.
"FETCH!!!" I through it as hard as I could.
If anything, it made her even more pissed.
Way to go you blooming arse. I congratulated myself on being a total idiot.
I dodged behind paintings and furniture. Finally I managed to find a space behind a couch.
I squeezed in and tried to quiet my breathing.
Bare feet padded across the floor.
I watched as they paused near me, then turned away.
Sighing with relief I wriggled out.
Something cold was pressed against my neck. I turned around slowly.
The girl was standing upside down on the ceiling. The muzzle of a revolver was nestled nicely in the crook of my neck.
Bloody fuck buckets.