Part Three
"A Scare"
Staring off in the distance and trying to ignore the blood that seemed to be everywhere, Arthur sought eternally for an explanation to the madness that had to have occurred the night before. Four of his friends were brutally murdered, yet he wasn't. What could have caused this sinister creature to spare him? Just as this thought entered his mind he heard a noise coming from the garage. It was the metal ping of a key being placed into its slot in the door.
Arthur always keeps his doors locked for fear of burglars, and at this moment could not think of anyone that he could have given a copy of his key to. As he looked around, he also could not remember where his own key was. He stood frozen with panic as the lock on the door to the garage clicked. He heard the handle turn slowly and the door creaked open.
In an effort to protect himself from the intruder he looked around the room for something that could be used as a weapon. In the hand of Henry's decapitated body he saw his softball bat. For a moment he wondered how, or if, that bat figured into the previous nights brawl, but he had no time to think about it. He pried the bat out of Henry's stiff, lifeless grip and held it murderously.
By this time footsteps could be heard on the tile floor of the laundry room, just down the back hallway from the living room where he was. A distance of about 20 feet, with no walls or doors in the way, separated Arthur from the mysterious visitor. Gaining courage from the 38-inch stick of aluminum that he held in his fists he called out to the noise,
"You son-of-a-bitch better get of my house! I'm giving you to the count of ten and then I’m gonna come and beat the shit out of you!"
There was silence for a moment from both parties. Then a startled female voice said,
"Arthur? It's just me, Amy."
"Amy?"
"You remember, Amy your girlfriend... you gave me a key on Friday night... you said it was an anniversary gift."
Extreme relief came over him and he lowered the bat to the ground. Yet as he lowered the bat his eye caught the body-less head of Henry lying in the chips. He looked down at his pajamas, still covered in blood, then up at the ceiling where the portraits of Henry and Mike stared at him mockingly.
Before he could stop her, Amy was standing right in front of him in his living room. Her eyes were locked on the decapitated Henry smashed across the coffee table. The blood streaming from his neck had not fully clotted and still flowed on to Arthur's once white, now maroon, carpet.
"Amy... Let me explain..." Arthur said.
She looked at Arthur with utter fear. His entire face had gone white and she couldn't move or speak. Before Arthur could attempt to manufacture an explanation a loud thud came from the hallway to Arthur's bedroom. Slowly Amy and Arthur both turned their head to the hallway. Arthur's hand reached back for the bat.
The upper half of Jeff's body had broken off from the bottom and had fallen onto the floor. His intestine and other internal muscle tissue hung down from the torso still attached to the ceiling. Jeff's mangled face stared up at both of them as his neck was twisted almost completely around.
Amy screamed and fainted.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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