For whatever the fuck it was worth, Kasey was right. When he’d separated from the barista, the hellhound had to make a quick decision, and unfortunately for the barista, the closest choice just happened to be him. Blue eyes paled, wide and unseeing as he looked toward the horrific scene unfolding before him. His mouth parted, like he wanted to say something, but the words caught. The fear had gripped him by the throat and was strangling the vocabulary out of him. He could hear Cassius, but he couldn’t tell if the voice was coming from somewhere around him or from inside of his head. Something about running, getting out of there, leaving the barista, getting to the car.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">The car…?</span><br/><br/>A fit of reality and reason hit him all at once, squarely in the chest. His piece of shit sedan was still parked nearby! If he could just make it to the car, he would be golden. Every muscle in his body burned with the desire to just hit the ground running for his life while the beast was still tangled up with the barista. His hands shook violently as he watched the hundreds of teeth rip and tear through shoes, pants, and skin. Blood was starting to run into the puddles that intermittently pooled in the asphalt, making the scene look so much gorier than it probably was. Every single alarm in his brain was going off, telling him to fucking book it, and his body jerked to move entirely independent of his own will. Except, it wasn’t in the direction of his car; he charged beast and barista alike, pulling a heavy boot back on his final step and launching it under the hellhound’s jaw.<br/><br/>The dog flew backwards a few feet, and Kasey half-crouched, half-stood as he tried to pull the barista to his feet. “Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up,” he urged, hooking an arm under the employee’s until he found his footing. When he was stood straight, Kasey grabbed his wrist and started to dash. He hoped this barista could fucking run, because right now Kasey was a track and field star. It was only a short distance to the sedan, but would they be able to get there, get in, and drive away in time?<br/><br/>His lungs burned ferociously. Everything in him burned, actually, but his lungs hurt the worst. He couldn’t risk looking back, but the sound of a blood-curdling wail from behind them told Kasey that the dog was close behind them. “Gogogogogo,” he yelled, pushing the barista toward the passenger side of the car as they approached, while he darted for the driver’s side. His hands trembled something vicious, and he fumbled with his keys for a moment that felt like eternity. Finally, he managed to get his door open and slam it shut before he threw himself over the center console to throw the passenger door open.