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Jove clutched his side and struggled to catch his breath, despite the sheer lack of necessity to the little ghost. Was this frightening figure the source of the voices? With a little whine, Jove brandished his book, and was surprised to notice it had changed since he last paid attention to it. Now it flickered, ghostly wisps coming off every now and again, most often when not directly looking at the book.

Maybe it would help him fend off the frightening hooded figure.

HP: 25

Damage to Figure: 1

The pup yelped, unable to dodge the giant scythe as it swung towards him. Why was this thing attacking him like this? He waved the book around again, flailing ineffectually in his fright. If he was lucky, it might make contact with the figure.

HP: 21

Damage to Figure: 10

((So it appears frantic flailing is the trick to hitting these guys. D: ))

Jove whimpered and clutched his AMAZING book to his chest as the figure disappeared. Was he safe now? The pup's side hurt, and not from the terrifying vision that had come prior to the attack. He reached one hand down to his side and felt blood. Had he been cut?

There seemed to be an awful lot of blood for that one little sting, but the pup swallowed the hurt and simply wiped the blood off his hand and onto his shirt. It made a terrible mess, like the little ghost had been in the middle of a bloody massacre, but by then Jove was already focused on his next action.

He had to go find Seiji and Junko and Tomoko, and make sure they were okay. As the foxfire turned to sniff the air he saw a glint on the ground, and moved to scoop up the pendant left behind. How curious... He shoved it safely in his backpack and then headed towards what looked like flashlight beams through the fog.

"Yes you did. Tomoko did too...and Jove." Seiji and Jove had gone to find Elaphe, right? Isn't that where they'd gone? Junko frowned, jumping a bit as she heard some..kind of otherworldly giggling. It was childlike and sweet, but it made her skin crawl and gave her goosebumps. It didn't sound like it...belonged here.

Everyone was here, right? Seiji was here. Tomoko was here.

...Right? Junko checked the back of her head again, paranoid that the mouth she had felt earlier was a lie. She bit her and Junko winced. Real. Definitely real...

They were real, right? Junko swallowed hard and looked up at Seiji when he started calling for Jove again. Was Seiji real?

"Jove ran ahead, but..." The denial died on his lips, attention rolling down to his hands. They were free of blood, thankfully, but there was something distinctly missing. "Where did my flashlight go?" He hadn't dropped it, that much he knew, so where was it? Was it the island, was it toying with him again? The voices, the hallucinations, everything! It was maddening, it really was, and with a frustrated growl the boil hunched his shoulders up, rolling them back in hopes of relieving some of the tension that had tightened the muscles there, then stiffened. Where was his bag?

His hand flew to his shoulder, feeling around for the strap that had [ijust been there. He hadn't lost them! He hadn't! What was going on! In desperation he looked to either ghoul beside him, but the sight that met him made him he back peddle away from them. Their eyes, their eyes were glowing. An unfamiliar, eerie yellow hue that did not belong in those sweet faces.

His heel caught something as he continued to back away from the ghouls and he went down with a heavy crash on the path, grunting in pain as his tailbone connected solidly with busted paving. Papers scattered around him, stirred by the impact, and he grabbed for one. Map pieces? Where these his?

Why..

"Not again.." His voice was a labored whine as he pressed his hands to his ears. Finally he looked down to the thing he'd tripped over, it was his bag, but it was empty. He picked it up with a shaking claw, staring at it with wide eyes. He hadn't dropped it, he knew he hadn't.. he.. did he?

He didn't know anymore. The voices, everything. It was so hard keeping track of what was and wasn't.

How could you?

The jikininki cringed, getting to his feet. Only to be slammed into by a small blue whisp as he came darting out of the mist. Seiji caught him automatically, stumbling himself as he struggled to keep his balance. "Jove! Oh thank Jack. Don't do that! was so-" Yellow eyes.

Seiji jerked away, as if he'd been burned. Then stared down at clawed hand as the a new coolness danced along the black skin. He couldn't see it against the black, but he could feel it. Wetness, thicker then water. Horrified, the boil looked up, slowly, afraid of what he'd find when he looked at the boil, and his knees went weak when he saw the blood on the pups side.

How could you do this to me?

"I'm sorry!" He voice was high, panicked. "I didn't.. mean," he whined, letting his hand fall as he stared at the boil. Those eyes, those glowing yellow eyes. Was it Jove? Had he just killed his friend? Why wasn't he falling?

(( Profile in case its needed ))

"Whats real is that she's a threat. Kill her." It said back with a sense of conviction. Do it, Do it.
All this constant muttering of killing was hurting his head. it was enough.
"No more, enough of this." Damien whimpered out, like a soft plea.
"Listen to your other halves and just do it."

A strangled gasp broke the repetitive droning words of the fog as silence fell on his ears. "There's no way." He was shaking like a leaf. It wasn't possible, it just wasn't possible that this voice was..... no. He wouldn't believe it, not one bit. With a strangled cry from his throat, he ran off into the fog. He didn't care where he ran, as long as it took him away from it.
It was so thick, he turned left and almost toppled over a barrel. It was getting hard to maneuver safely in the fog. He needed light, it was too difficult to see. What did he have to combat this? "Ah the flashlight, where is it?" He could have sworn he put it in his bag. He told himself as he patted his side.

But the bag wasn't there either.

Oh no, where did it go? Of all times to lose things, did it have to be right now? It was a fools choice to proceed without his tools. He was going to double back and look for it when.
You can't escape.
The voice was creeping up on him slowly, constantly but slowly. He had to keep moving, his legs were burning from all the running, but the whispers were still following him faintly, softly. And then it stopped altogether.

He turned a corner and was ready to mark the place in case he ran past it again, and saw the open space littered with papers, black and white, littering everywhere. Clues everywhere and before he could pick one up to investigate. He heard a rustle from somewhere in the stacks of papers, he turned his attention to the pile, nerves tense and ready for anything. except for what he saw.

Nothing could prepare him for seeing himself there, standing and looking like there wasn't a care in the world. Green eyes met gold and the voice that has been haunting him for hours finally made sense.
"I told you, you couldn't escape."
It was his own.

While it would have seemed like Savior was hardly around and doing things during the brunt of the trip, the reality of it all was that the Marrowstripe was, well, asleep. Being a purely nocturnal creature had given her some habits that were hard to break and it wasn't as though she was needed for immediate combat. Riding on West's shoulders through most of the journey had provided her with a stable place to rest but it all came crashing down when she...apparently did. The rough landing woke her up and set her eyes out to viewing nothing but fog, a sight she was supposed to be getting familiar with each time she saw it though it wasn't quite clicking.

"Wesssst?" The monster rose to her feet and dusted herself off, her hands surprised to find that she was missing her bag and there were strange echoes going on all around her. While the life of a Marrowstripe was naturally solitary since they tended to kill and eat anything they saw it was odd for Savior to be like this. Her time at Amityville had filled her limited memory space with thoughts of being with West, with Kushis, and whatever else happened to happen while she was moving around. "Wesssst?" Her hollow voice shook with nerves as she looked around and she shivered against the fog.

In the distance she could hear a faint whistling sound, a hollow echo that every inch of her mind knew all too well. There were no words to be spoken, for Marrowstripe did not communicate with one another, but the message being broadcast by that whistling was loud and clear - there were others of her kind out there. A feeling akin to bloodlust started to rumble through Savior's emotional state and she cracked her knuckles, her claws bared and ready. It had been too long since she had hunted another Marrowstripe and it wasn't as though her senses were rusty. It was just that, from the sounds of it, there could have been at least three or more out there and Savior wasn't quite sure how many she could take on with the limited visibility.

With her natural ability turned off (not that she was aware) it would be much harder for her to place her sand to leave a trail to follow but she could, faintly, smell the scent of herself somewhere else. Her brain threw up a flag - West! - and a cold wave of fear ran down her spine. Savior didn't really understand that she had to protect West but she was rather fond of him - allowing him to be killed and eaten by a fellow Marrowstripe set her stomach to unease. "West. Coming." The monster started off in the direction of the smell, prepared to kill all who came her way. It was high odds that only she and West were left out there, surrounded by Marrowstripes. Savior was determined to amend part of that.