Slendie RP, Anyone?

Louis peered, bleary-eyed, at Hannah's overly concerned face as the pounding slowly lessened, his temples aching from the abusive night. He could feel the silky material on his face again, but he didn't have the strength (or will) to take it from her hands.

'You should watch your language,' he murmured, giving her a weak smile as he attempted to focus upon Harold who stood a small distance away, his face betraying shock. Do I really look that bad?

Hannah sighed heavily with relief, tears forming in her eyes. Thank God he was okay. If he wasn't, she would have had his condition resting on her conscience for a long, long time. When he scolded her about her language she laughed, feeling giddy with relief at his wellbeing. Regardless, she kept the handkerchief pressed to his nose to prevent any more blood staining his crisp shirt.

Harold turned on the spot and started walking back to his bungalow, he sounded like he was mumbling and he walked like a drunk, staggering.

(Okay going to do the new character now

Name: "John"
Age: Late Twenties.
Gender: Male
Skills: Uknown at this time, I promise he isn't a Gary Stu, seems quite healthy
Personality: Quiet but quite active as a person. He has no memory of his life before waking up in the woods.
Carrying: A stiletto knife, a photograph of a young woman, four .45 ACP bullets and a Yale Key.
Reason for Being out: He woke up there.
NSFW: Yes. )

(Accepted!)

Somewhere near in the woods, there is a hole, about 6 feet deep, it's rectangular, it looks like a not-yet filled in grave. Beside it is a mound of dirt, several footprints around the grave and a shovel stuck into the soil, a man is lying at the bottom in the fetal position, with dried blood on his face and in his hair. He opens his eyes. Where am I? He asks himself. "Ow... My head." He quietly says to no one in particular. He tries to climb out of the hole.

Raya skipped home from her best friend's birthday party, carrying a bag full of candy in one hand and her purse in another. She hummed her lucky tune to herself, a song called "Sunshine". Noticing it was cold out, she shivered, and remembered the bad dream she had last night. It was a strange dream, one with a faceless tall man in a suit.
She passed by the forest, staring into it as though looking for something.

The man managed to get out of the hole quietly and knelt beside it trying to figure out where he is. He doesn't know, he also doesn't know what he was doing before he came here. In fact, he doesn't remeber anything, not even his name. He felt around his scalp, he heard from somewhere head injuries can cause memory loss from... somewhere, TV, that's where. He felt something on his scalp, a sticky pit around a swollen and painful lump. He winced at the sudden increase of pain from his dull headache. He's quite close to the edge of the woods. He groans as he tries to releave the stiffness in his limbs and spine.

Louis managed to prop himself up on his elbows, wincing as his head pounded in protest to the sudden movement. A small breeze toyed with his dark hair, drawing his attention to the fact his bowler lay where his head had fallen; he could see the glint of wire, sewn into the brim to give him the upper had in a fist-fight.

How he wished for his violin; playing it often calmed him, helping him to gather his thoughts when he needed to make an important decision. This is probably why they thought I was more suited to the office, he mused. Out in the field, playing the violin wasn't the most constructive (or undercover) activity.

Hannah reached down to Louis, offering him her hand. "Come on." She murmured softly. He looked so vulnerable on the ground. Her head whipped around, towards the edge of the forest, when she heard a low groan. She froze.

Hesitantly, Louis shifted his weight slightly so he could take Hannah's hand, his chilly fingers entwined through hers as his other arm supported him, elbow drilling into to the frozen earth. He waited for her to help him up, but she was staring intently into the forest, stock still like a statue.

She blinked, coming out of her trance, and tugged Louis to his feet as gently as she could manage. She whispered to him urgently. "I heard something. There's something out there." She held his hand tighter.

The man had realised he was near the edge of the forest, but also near some other people, leaves were moving around like someone was moving on them and there was talking, he wanted to call out but it could be the people who put him in a hole and hit him with a shovel. He picked up a rock by his feet, one about the size of a loaf of bread. He held it in his right hand, he was prepared to use it like a club. He, quietly as he can, crept over to a tree and placed his back right up to it. He would whack 'em in the back of the head if they commented on where he went... They would be the ones who put him in there. So, revenge would be in order.

Hannah sensed movement. "There's someone out there!" She spoke more urgently, tugging on Louis' hand. She was afraid, too afraid to go looking by herself.

The man started to take some time to think... Maybe they're some hikers or something? His throat had suddenly become exceptionally dry and his head very light. Yeah, I'm not too good... They should be able to help His mind was racing and he was sweating horribly, he started shivering from the cold fluid on his face. He dropped the rock which made a dull thud. Oh shit... Now they know I'm here.

"There's something out there!" Hannah's voice became shrill with panic. Supernatural entities weren't the only thing to worry about. She'd heard stories of girls being beaten and raped in the woods. She yearned to be back in her house and back in her bed. Spinning in a circle, she tried to work out where they had to come from.

Louis was surprised by the fact he'd managed to stay vertical this long without having to lean on a tree for support; so when Hannah tugged on his hand he almost lost his balance, leaning heavily on her shoulder. He gazed into the forest, eyes wandering from shadow to shadow.

'Yes,' he whispered, eyes widening. 'Perhaps it's another lost soul.'

"I heard a thud." She looked up to him, searching for answers in his eyes. He was, quite clearly, not in a very good condition. Swallowing hard, she spoke again. "Which direction did we come from?"

Louis frowned, attempting to gather his bearings among the near identical trees as the blood slowly stopped dripping from his nose. His mind was too muddled, unclear, to be exactly sure where they were. However, he had a vague idea.

'I'm afraid-.' He paused as a lance of pain caused his voice to crack. 'I'm afraid it's in that general direction.' He gave a little nod to the thicket of trees where the noise had apparently originated.

Hannah swallowed. Of course it'd be that way, towards where the rapist, murderer, or whatever he was was waiting for them. Reaching up, she wiped a little blood off of Louis' face. "When we get out, we can go to my house to get you cleaned up." She cleaned her hand on her jeans before steeling her nerves and walking towards where the noise had come from.

The man's head was spinning with panic and queasiness. He was frantically trying to get his legs to react and make him run, but they were just wobbling. He couldn't call out, his throat was so dry.

'Thank you,' whispered Louis, a little hollow as he staggered along beside the girl; so different from his preferred stalking, but his mind was too clouded and confused for him to concentrate upon movement now. All that was getting though was the panicked thoughts of how he was going to manage if there was a danger ahead; he wasn't in any condition to defend himself, let alone Hannah.

Walking as softly as she was able, Hannah walked a little ahead of Louis, clearing brambles out of their way and searching for the clearest path. She was super sensitive to every sound, every smell, every movement.. If something was going to pounce on her, she'd know about it. She wanted to move faster, but she knew that would be impossible for Louis in the condition he was in.

The man heard some footsteps near him, he hoped they would pass. Hannah could hear his laboured breathing, and smell the sweat and blood on him. His face is startilingly pale in the night with the streak of dried blood he looks like a corpse., his slate grey eyes are wide. The man has found something in his pocket he pulls it out, it's a switchblade, he's pulled it out, just in case.

Hannah froze suddenly, her ears pricking up. Breathing. Loud breathing. Resisting the powerful urge to run, she took a deep breath and called out. "I know you're there."

The man had pressed the switch on his switchblade when he called out. It was an audible slink, this gave him the confidence to say, "Yeah, I know. Who are you?"