Alex offered the drunk Jason a ride home. Jason had trouble walking but not badly enough to hurt himself. Zigzagging his way across the front lawn, he safely got to the car but needed help getting into the backseat.
Jason slumped just about ready to doze off when Alex asked him something which woke Jason back up which angered him. "Why'dya wakemeupyafatfuck?!"
"You were asleep?"
"Well, as I was saying, where do you live?"
Liveoffofuh... uh... Gating Crescent. Now leavemealone, trynagetsomeshuteye."
They got there 15 minutes later. "Which house do you live in?" Alex asked longingly wanting to get back to the party.
"Fine." Alex pulled over into the roundabout and said "Out." Jason stumbled out and onto the sidewalk as Alex yelled after him Have a good night."
Jason replied "Fugya." Alex rolled his eyes as he drove off back to the party.
Jason lazily walked across the lawns until he got to his own house. Time and time again he tried to climb those 5 steps up to his front door and each time he failed. It's not because he fell, instead he got frightened at the third step because it was "too high" for him. So after a few tries he thought of crawling up the steps instead, just so he couldn't look down. Finally he got to the top.
He fumbled for his keys in his pocket and trying to keep himself steady got them out. Just then he stumbled backward and fell down those 5 steps. He cracked his back off the 3rd step, rolled, and smacked his head off the concrete walkway.
Still somewhat conscious, he tried to get back up but found he couldn't move his arms or legs and he became terrified. Terrified of not being able to have sex, of having no control, of not being able to move. But he was most terrified of a life without beer, his favorite thing.
As these thoughts went through his head a light turned on nearby washing over him and as it got closer it blinded him. He closed his eyes instinctively and felt himself being dragged onto the lawn leaving behind a pool of blood.
He opened his eyes and what he saw would've made him shit his pants. A giant mouth smiled down upon him showing two very long fangs and the headlights no longer on stared, seemingly possessing life behind them.
The Dakota's sides expanded and contracted as it's hot breath rolled over him. He was halfway beneath it and it's front end bent down slightly and looked at him in a menacing way. It spoke.
"You make me sick" it snarled at him. "You drunkards are always ready to kill someone." Jason was unable to defend himself since he was unable to speak. "Maybe I should kill you, right here, right now." It looked like it thought about the decision then it changed it's mind. "No, no, that would be too easy." It stuck a wheel out and the tire transformed. The rubber snaked out and formed an arm with protruding claws. It swiped at him only slashing his shirt to ribbons. It brushed the shredded clothing aside, exposing Jason's chest. The arm melted back into the tire and it leaned in closer.
"Instead, I. Will. Mark you" it whispered angrily as it carved into his chest with one of it's fangs. When it was finished, it sighed and said "Your kind have killed far too many of my friends" in a saddened tone as it went off somewhere. Jason soon lost consciousness and found himself in a hospital.
He was aware of people standing around him as he adjusted to the light "He's awake!" someone shouted. He found he couldn't move a lot; only one of his arms could move and only a little bit. He was still adjusting when his girlfriend rushed in and hugged him. She was just glad he was still alive "The doctors said it would take a few months to completely regain movement and get back onto your feet, but I'll be with you all the way, don't you worry." He had great difficulty replying but managed to croak out a "thanks" and smile.
When he got feeling back into his chest, it felt weird. Curious, he pulled up his shirt and to his horror the word KILLER was etched into his chest. He was at a loss as to how it got there, since he didn't remember it.
Besides a knife found nearby, there was no indication of anybody else outside at that time, in that area. The knife did have Jason's blood on it however, they could find no fingerprints on it's handle. Since there were no leads it was filed as a cold case and forgotten over time.
Nowadays, Jason still can't remember what happened that night and it doesn't seem like he wants to. He got rid of the scarred in word but is still disturbed by the thought of someone doing that. Oh, and he is now inexplicably frightened of cars and prefers walking home from parties. He still loves his beer, I'll tell you that but I hate him for it. I really do.