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Hide, Seek, and Die!
The killer held Kenneth by the throat. He raised the jock up so his feet are dangling in the air. The killer thrust his knife into Kenneth's chest, slicing downward. The killer stopped just above crotch level but Kenneth's guts spilled out. They glistened in the moonlight. So close to escape. Kenneth was by the door but he was the first to go, bathed in moonlight. The rest of the group remained hidden within the house, struggling to stay hidden and stop the panic from rising.
None of them thought this would happen, but it happened so fast. It was a bone-dry, boring summer evening and the friends were bored. So they hopped into Kenneth's Jeep to explore the creepy abandoned house on the outskirts of town. Only it wasn't as abandoned as they thought. When the killer stepped into the house, Kenneth was playing with the coat rack, pretending that he was dancing with a beautiful maiden he eyed from across the bar. He didn't expect that a long-haired, musty, masked killer would walk in an bring the friends' laughter to a deafening silence.
The killer fished Kenneth's pockets and got PHP20.00 and the Jeep's keys, the gang's ticket to safety. Eleanor was hidden in the closet just beside the coat rack. It's hard to keep still when you've been squatting for God knows how long. It's actually only been about five minutes but to Eleanor she's been in there for an eternity with a good view of behind the couch, where Janey is hid. A stupid decision, Eleanor thought, but what would be more stupid is if Janeyover and sent the floorboards singing her location. Mike was hidden behind a potted plant next to a record player. The only reason the killer hasn't spotted him yet was because the front door wasn't all the way open but if the killer--
The killer kicked the front door open as he dragged Kenneth's body by the blonde hair. Eleanor couldn't see where. She could turn to her right and look but damn it if she let the floorboards beneath her feet join the floorboard choir. So she stayed where she was. The killer's heavy footsteps grew louder. He was going back inside.
Right away, he spotted Mike behind the potted plant. It wasn't actually a plant per se but the remains of one: an old but sturdy sharp stick. The killer wasted no time, grabbing Mike by the temples of his head. Mike saw what the killer was about to do but was powerless to stop it. He saw Eleanor's eyes in the closet and held his stare at her. She did the same back with tears streaming down her eyes. She couldn't help but watch in horror as the killer impaled Mike by the chin on the sharp stick. Mike gurgled out blood and twitched for a few seconds before going limp. In his position, it was like he was kneeling and worshipping the potted plant. The killer stepped back and admired his handiwork. Then, he dragged Mike -- stick still through his chin -- outside.
Just then, Eleanor heard Janey's sobs behind the sofa, she could see her shoulder twitched as the poor girl sobbed. Her sobs became cries, which became weeping, which crescendoed into, "I can't take this anymore!"
And just like that, she was off like a bullet out the front door. Her single-minded goal was to make a run for the Jeep and get the hell out of there. She didn't see that the killer took Kenneth's keys so when she did make it to the Jeep, the killer easily caught up to her by walking. He grabbed her by the scalp from the driver's seat and threw her on the ground. By the leg, he dragged her to the burning campfire, burning bright from dry leaves and the charring remains of Mike and Kenneth. Janey was set alight brighter than a Christmas light. Eleanor listened to all this through covered ears, still in her spot.
Chris was hidden in the kitchen, stuck there after discovering the backdoor was sealed off. They sat with their back against the kitchen island asking themselves why after Janey burned alive did they just decide to grab the rusty screwdriver on top of the island.
At this point, Eleanor decided to make a break for it too but not the way Janey did. No. She took baby steps outside the closet, making her way to the kitchen to try the backdoor that, unbeknownst to her, was sealed. She took this opportunity as the killer was entranced by the glowing orange corpses. Eleanor met up with Chris who filled her in about the backdoor situation.
This was the last room in the house that the killer hasn't checked, save for the no-window, no-door bedroom upstairs. They wouldn't want to chance the killer outrunning them. They don't want to let the other get caught so the other could escape. They had to make a stand. As the killer stomped into the kitchen, Eleanor presented herself in front of the kitchen island, hand behind her back. She eyed the killer's right hand, which is wrapped tightly around a rusty kitchen knife. He started towards her and slammed her on the island. He raised his right hand high above his head, and just before he plunged the knife into Eleanor's heart, the killer felt a sharp pain by his left knee. Chris had plunged the killer with the screwdriver. Now they had a running chance. Eleanor took the chance to place a hard boot firmly and assertively against the killer's mask, sending it flying, the killer, pushed back onto the floor. Within the same second, Chris pulled Eleanor off the kitchen island and they both made for the door, hand in hand. But not before the killer shot an arm out, grabbing Chris' leg, sending them to the kitchen floor on their chest. The killer pulled them and turned so they were on their back. They tilted their head back and yelled for Eleanor to run. She was more frozen than an ice-cold Princess Anna from "Frozen". Only the sisterly embrace that thawed her to life and sent her running was the spray of Chris' blood as the killer slit their throat. Eleanor screamed and ran. She screamed and ran out. Into the dark and indiscernible forest, she screamed for help that seemed farther and farther away with each cry.
© Dustin Julian Domingo
None of them thought this would happen, but it happened so fast. It was a bone-dry, boring summer evening and the friends were bored. So they hopped into Kenneth's Jeep to explore the creepy abandoned house on the outskirts of town. Only it wasn't as abandoned as they thought. When the killer stepped into the house, Kenneth was playing with the coat rack, pretending that he was dancing with a beautiful maiden he eyed from across the bar. He didn't expect that a long-haired, musty, masked killer would walk in an bring the friends' laughter to a deafening silence.
The killer fished Kenneth's pockets and got PHP20.00 and the Jeep's keys, the gang's ticket to safety. Eleanor was hidden in the closet just beside the coat rack. It's hard to keep still when you've been squatting for God knows how long. It's actually only been about five minutes but to Eleanor she's been in there for an eternity with a good view of behind the couch, where Janey is hid. A stupid decision, Eleanor thought, but what would be more stupid is if Janeyover and sent the floorboards singing her location. Mike was hidden behind a potted plant next to a record player. The only reason the killer hasn't spotted him yet was because the front door wasn't all the way open but if the killer--
The killer kicked the front door open as he dragged Kenneth's body by the blonde hair. Eleanor couldn't see where. She could turn to her right and look but damn it if she let the floorboards beneath her feet join the floorboard choir. So she stayed where she was. The killer's heavy footsteps grew louder. He was going back inside.
Right away, he spotted Mike behind the potted plant. It wasn't actually a plant per se but the remains of one: an old but sturdy sharp stick. The killer wasted no time, grabbing Mike by the temples of his head. Mike saw what the killer was about to do but was powerless to stop it. He saw Eleanor's eyes in the closet and held his stare at her. She did the same back with tears streaming down her eyes. She couldn't help but watch in horror as the killer impaled Mike by the chin on the sharp stick. Mike gurgled out blood and twitched for a few seconds before going limp. In his position, it was like he was kneeling and worshipping the potted plant. The killer stepped back and admired his handiwork. Then, he dragged Mike -- stick still through his chin -- outside.
Just then, Eleanor heard Janey's sobs behind the sofa, she could see her shoulder twitched as the poor girl sobbed. Her sobs became cries, which became weeping, which crescendoed into, "I can't take this anymore!"
And just like that, she was off like a bullet out the front door. Her single-minded goal was to make a run for the Jeep and get the hell out of there. She didn't see that the killer took Kenneth's keys so when she did make it to the Jeep, the killer easily caught up to her by walking. He grabbed her by the scalp from the driver's seat and threw her on the ground. By the leg, he dragged her to the burning campfire, burning bright from dry leaves and the charring remains of Mike and Kenneth. Janey was set alight brighter than a Christmas light. Eleanor listened to all this through covered ears, still in her spot.
Chris was hidden in the kitchen, stuck there after discovering the backdoor was sealed off. They sat with their back against the kitchen island asking themselves why after Janey burned alive did they just decide to grab the rusty screwdriver on top of the island.
At this point, Eleanor decided to make a break for it too but not the way Janey did. No. She took baby steps outside the closet, making her way to the kitchen to try the backdoor that, unbeknownst to her, was sealed. She took this opportunity as the killer was entranced by the glowing orange corpses. Eleanor met up with Chris who filled her in about the backdoor situation.
This was the last room in the house that the killer hasn't checked, save for the no-window, no-door bedroom upstairs. They wouldn't want to chance the killer outrunning them. They don't want to let the other get caught so the other could escape. They had to make a stand. As the killer stomped into the kitchen, Eleanor presented herself in front of the kitchen island, hand behind her back. She eyed the killer's right hand, which is wrapped tightly around a rusty kitchen knife. He started towards her and slammed her on the island. He raised his right hand high above his head, and just before he plunged the knife into Eleanor's heart, the killer felt a sharp pain by his left knee. Chris had plunged the killer with the screwdriver. Now they had a running chance. Eleanor took the chance to place a hard boot firmly and assertively against the killer's mask, sending it flying, the killer, pushed back onto the floor. Within the same second, Chris pulled Eleanor off the kitchen island and they both made for the door, hand in hand. But not before the killer shot an arm out, grabbing Chris' leg, sending them to the kitchen floor on their chest. The killer pulled them and turned so they were on their back. They tilted their head back and yelled for Eleanor to run. She was more frozen than an ice-cold Princess Anna from "Frozen". Only the sisterly embrace that thawed her to life and sent her running was the spray of Chris' blood as the killer slit their throat. Eleanor screamed and ran. She screamed and ran out. Into the dark and indiscernible forest, she screamed for help that seemed farther and farther away with each cry.
© Dustin Julian Domingo
