Uncovered Project: I'm Your Boogey Man: Part One

This is a work I would love to go back to one day, although I'm sure I would have to do more research to properly represent each character. But it's about serial killers locked into a house together and forced to kill one another off for the amusement of bored rich assholes.

Prologue:

The writer sits before me, and it’s obvious to see how nervous she is. She’s young, moderately attractive, and is on the biggest research mission of her life. She’s writing a book, a book about serial killers, about me. She just made big with a series for young adults. And now, she’s trying to break away from that, do something mature, something worth noticing. I can’t say I don’t feel for her. But who would believe that coming from me?

She licks her lips, turns on the tape recorder. She glances around, making sure the guards are in place. But she needn’t worry about me, I’m harmless to her. I had more of a chance attacking the guard to the left of me more than her. 

“Good afternoon.” She manages to spit out.

“Good afternoon to you, too. Thank you for allowing me this opportunity.”

She looks confused about this then nods and looks down into the microphone. A television station wanted to film this candid interview, but I would not allow cameras like everyone had wanted. I learned my lesson about cameras. Like a vampire, I show no reflection, well, at least no real one. 

“Tell me about yourself. Your life,” She asked. “I mean, we’ve all heard things from the news, but…never about you.”

I was genuinely surprised by her question. She was smarter than I pegged her for, gutsier too. I liked her. Was I not what I was, I would of loved to have been her friend. 

“What exactly is it you want to know?” I try to fool her. “How I came to be what I am?” 

She shook her head, confused. “I’m edging towards that but I what I want to know is about your childhood, your siblings, your parents, pets. Things like that.”

She’s good, she’s learning about me. “I barely remember much about my birth parents. I know their names were Randy and Glenda and that Glenda was very, very young while Randy was very, very old. I don’t remember what exactly happened, but I was taken from them and placed into Foster care. I went through several families, several siblings. I then came into the hands of the…” I hesitate. “Well, I don’t want to reveal them. I’m afraid I’ve embarrassed them enough. But, I had my Mama, my Dad, and my sister. I loved them all very much, although that did take some time. As you can understand I hope, I was bounced from one family to another, so you can understand a hesitancy a child will have towards another bounce. Luckily for me this bounce became permanent.” She nodded at me and gave a soft smile.

“They adopted you?” She asked.

“Of course. They gave me everything I ever wanted. I had my own room, my own toys, even my very own pet.”

“What was this pet?”

“A dog. A little mutt.” I reply. “I called him Fetch.” I laugh. “Strange name, I know all to well. My sister used to tease me for my rather creative names. I called her Doll, but she actually liked it.”

“Were you close with her?”

“Yes.” I swallow. “No.” I look away. “Was.”

She tilts her head slightly. “Tell me about her.”

“We were like any normal siblings. We fought. We loved each other. We walked to school together.”

“Did you like school?”

“Oh yes. I loved school very much. I loved reading, and learning. Asking questions was my reason for living back then. I had a teacher back then, Mr. Roosevelt-”

“Your first victim?”

I stare at her, still smiling, yet bewildered and caught off guard. “Yes. You’ve done your homework.” I chuckle the surprise off. “I used to adore Mr. Roosevelt. I became his teacher’s pet and then…”

The writer looked deathly surprised. “Did he do something to you?” I looked around, even the guards looked surprised.

I half smiled. “Well…he was my first victim after all.” I looked into her wide, blue eyes. She nodded and didn’t look away.

“Is he why you…” Her voice faded out.

“Maybe. But I always think I was born with it. Like homosexuals are born homosexuals. Like we’re born the color we are. It’s always been there inside me, this need to kill.”

“But why kill so many?”

“It’s like a drug addiction. You do it once and you just gotta do it one more time to see if it gives you that same rush. Then you start doing it more and more just to feed that lust inside you. Sure, I tried to stop, go cold turkey, but it felt like it was alive inside me. It was ripping me to shreds. I had to do something.”

“But why such a specific target?”

I smiled. “It just seemed the most…logical.”

“And, well, I know you’ve never talked about it. But…the house?”

“Well, my parents were very well to do and-”

“No. The other house.”

“Oh!” I laugh and clap my hands together. “I suppose this is what all this was leading up to right?” I look back up at her and smile. “I suppose that this is what everyone wants to know about.”

“Well, you were the only survivor.”

That word rattles in my head, making me laugh louder than I can remember having laughed before. “Survivor? Is that what you think I am?” I run my fingers through my hair. “Well, the first thing I remember about the house is the guards coming into my cell and slamming needles into me. Wait. How long ago was this? Five years?”

“Six.”

“Ah! So, I wake up in this room. It was bare, save for all the essentials one would need. The windows were barred, certain things nailed down. And then there was the television set fixed into the wall like some sort of window. Then…”

She leans forward, eyes brimming. “Then?”

“I walked outside and down a long, narrow hall. And then…there they all were.” I whisper.

“The killers?”

I smile. “A house full of killers.”

Chapter One: The Game Begins

There were six of them, two were women. Each one of them was completely different but all of them were amongst the coldest, bloodletting criminals in the United States. 

Sitting in the armchair was William Guthrie, a giant hulk of a man who had lived most of his life as a hired assassin. He had over ninety-five hired hits in his lifetime, and another thirty-seven murders outside that. He barely lifted his head to examine the crowd around him. His steely black eyes focused on his palms. His slick black hair feathered slightly, brushing against the olive skin of his thick neck. In his face he didn’t look like a pleasant man. His square jaw jutted out in the fashion of an angry pit-bull, his brow creased like the wizened hermit’s. He rubbed his fingers against his neatly trimmed mustache and he eased his muscular frame into the armchair. He had no intention to move.

Standing in the farthest corner away from everyone was an attractive, young girl named Cecilia ‘Cecy’ Gables, also called the Slaughtering Angel. Cecy had over seventy-five known kills under her belt, even more suspected. Cecy only killed criminals. Her trial had been the debate of the century. Despite her terrifying title, Cecy herself didn’t look like the kind of person who could commit so many crimes in her short life. She was small in stature and appeared more pixie like than murdering fiend. Her long red hair swept over her shoulders and back in rippling waves, coming to a stop just short of the middle of her back. The angelic blue of her eyes was shadowed, nearly blackened, by some deep darkness that came from within her. It was cold, much like her gaze and pale skin.

Sitting in the loveseat was Zeke Daniels a frail, sickly looking young man. Zeke had killed his entire family, along with ten other unlucky souls. He had also devoured each of them. He was called the Louisville Cannibal. His long, bone like fingers sliced through his greasy black hair, pulling it back slicker across the back of his head and trailing like a slimy slug against his neck. His great gaping eyes darted and bounced around the room, looking from face to face, fly to fly, soul to soul. His gaunt face seemed to pucker with each breath he was so thin. His skin clung tightly to what looked like only bone and greasy skin. His tight shirt revealed rows and rows of ribs. Jokes were often made how such a frail and bone of a boy ate his entirely family.

Standing against the northern most wall was a tall, extremely handsome young man named Adam Graves. He had thirty-three kills, thirty women and three men. All of whom he had dated, slept-with, and then killed as soon as he had climaxed in the most sexual sense. He certainly didn’t look his part either, much like Cecy. He was an extremely handsome man. His feathery blonde hair called back to such Jane Austen heroes. His nearly angel like face was only marred by the dark, festering look in his smoldering green eyes. His shifted impatiently in his spot, flexing the tone muscles in his long legs. He turned slightly, watching from the corner of his eye. 

Sitting cross-legged in a rocking chair was a slender, delicate looking woman by the name of Lana Finlay. She was a Black Widow, she had had seven husbands and had killed all of them. She would have had eight, but he had nearly escaped her web. She was a fairly attractive woman. Her long blonde hair came down over her shoulder and she stroked his with her pale hands. Although, as she did that, it seemed to only exaggerate the size of her large breasts by comparing them to the size of her little hands. Her features too were exaggerated like her bosom. Full lips, aquiline nose, and a smooth, if not creased with fear, brow. Her wide blue eyes stared hopelessly away from everything. She pursed her red lips and let out a vulnerable sob.

Then the last one, standing behind a table, was Stuart Mason, a short, stocky middle aged man. He had twenty-nine kills, fifteen of which were children. All of his victims had been tortured to death in ways most couldn’t even begin to imagine. His graying hair was thin and ruffled freely around his head, pulling slowly with age away from his glistening forehead. His round face held tiny brown eyes. Had he wore  beard he’d look very much like Santa, one of his alluring charms to children. His thick fingers flexed, pushing with the heel of his fat palm against his glasses to push then further up his bulb nose. His gut hung over his pants like dough over a pan. He watched each person individually, meaning them then assessing them silently to himself then moving to the next. His mind clicked and whirred, picturing them in each of the horrible devices he had used before.

These six sat in a room together, knowing exactly who each of them were. But they all had the same question in mind.

“What are we doing here?” Cecy murmured from her confined little corner, and she pushed her thick, red hair from her eyes. 

“Some sort of punishment?” Adam snarled, revealing his handsome white teeth. A vein pulsed in his neck.

Cecy turned and looked at everyone else. “What? No one else gonna say anything?” She laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re all afraid of one another?” Her giggle peeled out. “This is funny!”

Adam turned to her and snarled. “Not to me.” He studied her and growled. “I’m not the least bit scared of any of you shits, I’m scared of what the fuck I’m doing here.”

“For all I care they’re going to set this place on fire and take care of all of in one swing.” Cecy snickered, calming herself down by the image of burning flesh. 

“Maybe it’s a test.” Lana murmured quietly.

“But why a house?” Stuart inquired. “Why something they’d perceive as comfortable?”

“Maybe they’re gonna fuck with us they way we fucked with our victims.” Cecy muttered and smirked over at Adam. “Right? Pretty boy?”

Adam frowned disgustedly at her. “Whatever we’re here for, they obviously don’t want us to leave.” He looked towards the window. “This place is sealed tighter than any prison I’ve ever seen.”

“Gonna die.” Zeke whispered.

“What do you think, big man?” Cecy asked, looking at the back of William’s head.

“Maybe we’re supposed to kill one another.” William growled, his voice so low it sounded like distant thunder.

Cecy grinned from ear to ear, terrifying Lana to her core. “I like the sound of that.” She then turned her head aside and sighed, her grin fading away. “But I’m not risking anything.”

Lana scoffed, rolling her eyes and pushing her sleek, blonde hair over her shoulder. “I’m so sure, Angel.” She sighed dismissively. 

Cecy turned her icy glare onto her. “Don’t push your luck, lady!” 

Adam could feel her ferocity rage then ebb and he got chills down his spine. “Lets just all calm down.” He snapped back at her.

Cecy moved out of the corner and made her way across the room. Zeke flinched in his chair as she went by, and Stuart watched her with utmost interest. “I’m going back to the room I woke up in. Whatever is happening, I’m going to take the Garbo approach. She stared down demeaningly at them all and sneered, “I want to be alone.”

Adam frowned as she left even though he enjoyed the chills she gave him. “I’m gonna look around the house.” He went through a set of French doors and disappeared.

Lana stood. “I think I’ll go back to my room.” She muttered and rushed off.

William touched the tip of his widow’s peak and rubbed his creased forehead. He sighed lowly then stood up and followed Adam into the kitchen, leaving Zeke and Stuart alone in the living room.

Zeke’s eyes flashed up to Stuart suddenly, making the little man shake. “Gonna die.” He rasped under his breath as he got up and went back down the long narrow hallway.

The rooms were painted a pale green, almost white. There carpet was a peppered gray, thick and soft. There wasn’t much to the rooms. On the wall with the door there was the full sized bed. On each side of the bed there were side tables with two drawers. The table of the left held a lamp. On the opposite wall there was a box window inlaid with dark bars. To the left of the window was a television screen that was embedded into the wall. On the right of the window was a farmed painting replica of Leonardo Da Vinci’s The Last Supper, the painting was probably different for each room. On the left wall was a huge framed mirror. Then on the right wall was a wardrobe the size of two refrigerators. Beside it was a chest of drawers and three rows of shelves that held various books. 

There were eight doors going down that hall, six bedrooms and two bathrooms. Most of the doors were open, the rooms empty. One door was closed and inside Zeke could hear Lana sobbing. Then, the room across from his own, he saw Cecy inside her room, examining the television set that was placed into the wall like a special window. Zeke stopped and watched her. Cecy’s hands went up and away from the television, examining the walls around it. She moved aside, her hand reaching as far up the wall as she could. She stopped suddenly and backed away, her head turning, looking for something. She then reached and removed the drawer from one of the bedside tables. She then flung it at the wall and the drywall crumbled where it smashed. 

Zeke heard Lana cry out from her room and he inched closer to Cecy’s door. Cecy turned and their eyes met. Zeke would be lying if he said he didn’t find Cecy attractive, but that was only because she exuded something similar to himself. And in the dark caverns and conclaves of his mind, he convinced himself that he even loved Cecy. He had felt that way a long time, since he had watched her trail on television three years ago.

“What’re you doing?” Zeke muttered as he removed himself from his room and moved quietly and closely to Cecy.

“Camera.” Was all Cecy muttered as she went to pulling back the drywall. Zeke stepped into her room and watched. Sure enough, there it was, a small, simple video camera. The lens whirred and pulled back, and red light flashed. 

“How very smart. But nothing less can be expected from you.”

Zeke and Cecy turned to the television set on which there was a shadowed figure present. 

Cecy turned and motioned to Zeke. “Go get the others.” She ordered, and his obediently obeyed. “Who are you?” She asked the screen.

“A bored gambler.”

Cecy’s mouth slightly opened and her brow creased further into her eyes. “A gambler?”

“Perhaps my colleagues and I should explain.” The man said and the camera panned out, revealing five other such shadowed figures.

Cecy frowned, shaking her head. “What have you done here?”

“To someone as intelligent as you, Ms. Gables, it should seem fairly obvious.” A female voice spoke from one of the shadows. 

Cecy remained silent, irritated beyond her own comprehension.

“What’s going on?” Adam spoke up from behind.

“You are all part of game.” Another voice on the screen spoke. “We bought you and placed you all here to play.”

“Play what?” Adam growled.

“I think it’s like William said.” Cecy murmured. “You’re all betting on who is going to kill everyone else.”

“That’s disturbing.” Zeke muttered.

“You six should consider yourselves lucky. You can stay here as long as you want.” Another female spoke up. “You don’t have to kill one another.”

Cecy crossed her arms across her chest. “Why don’t I believe that?” 

“Where are we?” Adam asked.

“A regular house fitted for such a special purpose. It’s far from human eye, but close enough so that you can order whatever your hearts desire.”

“Why us?” William rumbled from behind.

“Isn’t that obvious?” A man laughed.

“You six are amongst America’s top serial killers. You’re both fascinating, yet, despised. No one will think twice if you all kill each other.”

“But they will think who and why.” Cecy barked.

“You’d be surprised.” A woman said, a smile in her voice.

“There has to be something to motivate us to kill each other.” Cecy murmured, her eyes cutting across the room then back to the TV set. “So?”

“You can earn your freedom.”

“No way.” Adam laughed.

A man laughed. “It’s possible. After all, money got you here, didn’t it?”

Cecy looked over her shoulder, feeling uneasy with everyone standing there behind her. She turned back to the camera and sneered. “So what do you all have to gain from all this?” She asked. “This the only way you can get hard? Viagra not enough?”

The woman on screen laughed. “A suppose, in a way, that could be it.” She said in an unabashed tone. “But in all actuality, Ms. Cecy, we’re all bored and nothing else seems to fulfill us anymore.”

“Who are you then?” Adam spoke up again. Why was it only he and Cecy standing up and voicing themselves? They both found themselves thinking.

“Like you we are the top six of our field. That field just happens to be money.”

“Same thing.” Zeke sneered from the back. Beside him Stuart snorted and elbowing Zeke. Zeke took offense to this and sneered away from him, pushing out of the way and closer towards the front. 

“You will all be well taken care of while here. So, until the end, enjoy yourselves.”

Cecy frowned and growled. “You’re just as disgusting as we are if you find this entertaining.”

“Maybe so.” The man said and the television snapped off.

Cecy’s lip curled. “Get out!” She shouted. And without having to turn around, everyone filed quietly out of her room.

The first to remove themselves from their room was Stuart who had shuffled down the hall and stood in the living room where William still sat, not having moved at all since they had all gathered in the living room before.

William refused to go back into his room. For him, he would rather sit out in the open and see when someone was coming rather than wait under sheets unknowingly. 

“What was all that about?” William growled in his low, pit-bull voice.

Stuart’s beady eyes darted up and down William. Stuart was terrified of William, but he wouldn’t dare show it. Instead he’d make friends. That was always his defense. Befriend the biggest threat. And certainly William was the biggest.

“Didn’t you hear?” Stuart chortled.

William huffed and turned his head away. “Speakers seemed to be all throughout the house. Whoever these people are certainly want us to know what we’re doing. I bet that’s not the only thing they have installed.”

“Excuse me?” In Stuart’s mind, the word installed had different connotations and images.

“I bet they have more than speakers in this house. They can probably do more than let us know what they’re saying.” William’s dark eyes moved up and over Stuart. In his mind, Stuart would be an easy target. Fat people always were.

Stuart took a snorting breath, bobbing his head slightly. “I think I need a drink.” He muttered as he went to move into the kitchen.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the first one to go was you.” William growled

Stuart froze up in the doorway. “Wha-what was that?” He gasped, his heart beating like a hummingbird’s.

“Torturing and killing children?” William clicked his tongue. “I bet there are a lot of parents out there who would pay me everything they had to get back at you, buddy.” He laughed sounding like a bear roaring.

“So you gonna do it?” Stuart growled as he slowly turned around to face him. 

He shook his head an laughed. “I don’t plan on it.” He grinned. “I don’t plan on killing anybody. Sure, I’ll protect myself should someone try. But I don’t have it in me to do it.” His smile vanished and he leaned forward, pointing judgmentally at Stuart.

“But I bet that given the chance, your head will be first. Sure we have murderers, rapist, cannibals, and psychopaths here, but they all know better than to harm a baby.”

Stuart thrust himself into the kitchen and held himself over the sink. He turned on the faucet and splashed his face with cold water. He stood there for a moment before finally rushing himself back to his room. As he went to shut his door there was a loud bang and he jolted. Turning, he saw Cecy’s sealed shut door. He moved down the hallway and pressed his ear to the door. There was another thud and she cursed.

“What the hell?” He whispered.

Adam had gone to the kitchen and fixed himself a glass of ice water. He too was wondering on who would be the most likely to take up the gambling shadows’ offer. He heard something and quickly got out of the kitchen and went back to his room where he laid down on the bed with his door wide open. He sensed no harm at the moment. But like a hurricane, or, tornado he could read the signs. The off-putting, constant silence made his stomach uneasy and groan. The storm was far off. But it was coming. He sat up and watched as Zeke darted into his room and lock the door with some difficulty. 

“Creep.” Adam muttered under his breath and laid his head back on his pillow.

Zeke sat on the edge of his bed staring at the door just waiting on someone to  try and force their way inside. He wasn’t worried. Let them come, he thought. I’ll show them what I can do.

Lana was in the kitchen, having snuck away there during the commotion with the TV. She had heard everything and she had already begun planning her escape. She was used to situations like these. Despite the fact she had the least kills in the entire house, Lana was about as focused on the little details as Cecy and William were. She had already decided the one to get to first would be Adam, considering his history and crimes. Then she figured Stuart, he seemed hungry even before at the idea of getting his hands around someone while he had the chance. Zeke too looked about ready to snap, and what Lana had witnessed, Zeke had set his eyes on the lovely little Cecy. Oh how Lana hated Cecy. But Cecy was a part of her plans. She needed Cecy to help her. 

Lana’s hand dove into a drawer and she pulled out a pair of scissors. She smiled in her success.

Stuart stood in the doorway watching Lana, examining her movements in the shadows of the dark kitchen. He turned and saw William watching him from his spot in the living room. William terrified Stuart to his core, especially since their conversation earlier. He slowly walked away and back towards the hallway. He had already planned on killing everyone even before the announcement. 

Lana came out of the kitchen, jolting to a stop when she saw William sitting in the armchair. She smoothed back her hair then calmly strutted down the hallway. She saw Stuart slump back into his room and she sneered in his direction. 

“Disgusting.” She muttered to herself. As she looked up against she as Adam came out of the bathroom. It was then she put on her most glamorous smile and approached him.

“Adam, darling.” She started to approach.

Adam moved as if to avoid her, but it was too late, Lana already had him in her web. She came up so quickly he braced an arm against the wall. 

“Going to bed?” Lana asked, getting close enough to him he could feel her body heat. She trailed a hand across his chest playfully. 

“Sort of.” Adam muttered, trying to find a way out of her clutches.

Lana giggled and stood in a way that pursed her breasts further out. “I just don’t know if I can sleep tonight. It’s scary. You know?”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Yeah.” He sighed exasperatedly.

Lana sniffled and bowed her head, caressing her moist eyes with the side of her fingers. “I don’t belong here.” She looked up at Adam with dew ridden eyes. “I didn’t do anything to any of my husbands. My ex just wanted an easy way out was all! It was bad enough that they put me in jail. But now this?”

There was a  loud bang coming from Cecy’s room.

“What the hell is that little bitch doing now?” Lana hissed spitefully, her glamour slipping.

Adam put his hands on her shoulders and she gasped. 

“You go on to your room.” Adam instructed in what he called his Prince Charming voice. “I’ll see what she’s up to and I’ll come check up on you later.”

Lana beamed. “Oh! You’re so sweet. Thank you.” She breathed wistfully and pulled herself away.

Adam frowned disgustedly after her as she sauntered into her room. “Disgusting.” He turned to Cecy’s door and knocked. 

Cecy was examining every inch of her room unafraid to jab holes into the wall and tear down anything not secured. She backed away from her now safely secured door and turned to stare as God separated the light from the dark. She walked towards the painting and ran her hand down the museum quality glass.

“Glass.” She murmured to herself. But not the glass, she turned to look at the mirror. She was surprised to find  the mirror hanging above the bed wasn’t glued to the wall and she carefully took down and laid it on the floor. She threw a towel over it and then stomped it as hard as she could. The muffled sound reminded her of someone cracking their knuckles and she gritted her teeth. She pulled back the towel and laid it aside. She removed a single, large shard and set it on the bedside table. She then placed the towel back over the top of the mirror and slid it underneath her bed.

There was a knock on her door and Cecy jerked to attention. Her hand stretched to grasp the shard of glass even though she hadn’t finished refining it.

She licked her lips and took a cautious step forward. “Who is it?” She snapped.

“I don’t expect you to let me in, but it’s Adam.”

Cecy furrowed her brow. “What the hell do you want?” She moved closer to the door, her hand still in wait to grab the shard.

“You’re the only one in this hellhole I actually trust.” He said in a hushed voice, wanting only Cecy to hear. “I think we should talk. I have the feeling we’re both on the same wavelength.”

Cecy pushed the chest of drawers away from the door then undid the first lock and opened the door as far as the chain would allow. “Then tell me what I’m thinking.”

“Zeke.” Adam whispered, leaning closer to Cecy. “He’s gonna be the first to snap.” He turned slightly so that Cecy could see passed him and into Zeke’s open door. 

“Then it’ll be Lana. I saw her go into the kitchen and start rummaging through the drawers. I think she found something.” Adam whispered, moving back so Cecy could no longer see Zeke eyeing them suspiciously. 

“I don‘t see why you‘re coming to me with all this conspiracy shit.” Cecy murmured, looking up into Adam’s blue eyes. She grinned slightly. “But I get it. You‘re not the idiot I pegged you for.” She then frowned again. “But why should I trust you? Why would you trust me?”

“I don’t know. It’s just my gut.”

Cecy reached through the crack and prodded Adam’s stomach with the blade of her fingers. “Your gut also told you to fuck people and then slit their throats.”

“And I got sick of it.” Adam hissed. “That’s why I turned myself in. Now I’m in here and I’m expected to kill again?”

Cecy sighed. “You don’t have the urge anymore?”

Adam got closer to Cecy, towering over her. “You know better than anyone the urge never goes away. I can see it in you just as well as I can feel it inside me.” Adam laid his hand flat on his chest. “You want to kill too, but we have a way to control it.”

“And how is that?” Cecy sneered.

Adam smiled. “Because we’re both smart. We don’t let it control us like it does the others here.” He leaned closer to Cecy’s face. “What do you say?”

“If you were William I’d be inclined to let you in. But I still need to watch you for a while.” Cecy went to close the door but Adam stomped his foot in the doorway.

“Why William?”

“If you can’t tell then you and I are not as similar as you think.” She looked down at his foot. “Now please remove your foot.”

“Why won’t you let me talk to you?”

Cecy arched a brow and gave him a sarcastic grin. “You are the last person I’d invite into my bedroom. Now remove your fucking foot.” As soon as Adam had pulled his toes out Cecy slammed the door. 

Adam turned, his eyes locking with Zeke’s instantly. Zeke seethed, gripping onto the sheets of his bed so tightly he actually punctured a hole into them. Adam shivered, not liking the look in Zeke’s eyes at all. He made his way back to his room and locked himself inside.

Maybe he had been wrong about Cecy. While she had been out with everyone else in the living room he had sensed something from her. And when she had found the hidden camera the shadows appeared on screen, he knew he had found his soul mate. But there in the doorway he had sensed another creature. A creature much bigger than him and anything else he had encountered. 

He sat down on the edge of his bed and looked out the window, the darkening sky bled in colors of purple and orange, fading into the last splashes pinks and yellows of daylight. He laid back and closed his eyes, and in the shadows all he could see were Cecy’s eyes burning into him. It would remain that way until he died, he thought.

As soon as he was sure Adam was locked safe and sound in his room Zeke emerged from his own room. Draping himself in a crisp white sheet he floated down the hallway and entered the bathroom. Upon closing the door he dropped the sheet, revealing his frail, naked body. He finger the hard pink scars that covered his pale flesh. He licked his lips, each scar a reminder of each victim he had killed. He looked at himself in the mirror. He was certainly not as sculpted as Adam, nor as handsome.  Adam was a Greek god while he was one of the devil’s abused. But it wasn’t the flesh of Adam he wanted. 

He reached over and turned on the shower.

And all he had to do was kill all the unwanted flesh in the house.

He stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain around him. He ran his fingers through his hair and produced a neatly wrapped razor. He unwrapped it and examined the perfectly shining blade. He held it firmly in his hand and brought it down on the hard muscle of his chest. He made an incision just above the nipple and grinned. 

Tonight, he thought, it all begins tonight.