wincing as the hinges squeaked.
A step across the threshold. A creak of the floorboard. More wincing, quick trembling.
He groped along the gloomy landing, looking this way and that, not seeing a lot and expecting to be jumped at any moment, but still hoping like crazy he would go through all of this shit in one piece.
You still don’t mind the gush of blood through your nose, Donnie Baby? Ah, I’m proud of you.
No, he didn’t mind. Screw the blood. And screw the pride. He had to do something quickly, do something to live beyond tonight.
On the staircase now, stealing along the steps—the kind that have emptiness in-between them—and trying to avoid any tell-tale sound at all costs. He held the coat hanger straight ahead of him, shivering, and at that moment, he wondered if he would be able to use his weapon efficiently if the occasion ever arose.
Close to the downstairs landing now. Would he make it through tonight? Make it through to have another chance to smile and enjoy the good stuff life had up for grabs?
He could only hope.
The downstairs was not as murky as the upstairs. He instantly realized the doors—both the one connecting the foyer to the living room as well as the one between the foyer and the main entrance doorway—were open. Lights from the street lamps spilled in through the openings.
Perhaps his stalker was still inside the house? If so, where exactly was it located? Donnie couldn’t turn and run back upstairs. He might be running just into the arms of his assailant by so doing. Right now, his initial ailing courage to progress downstairs became dead altogether. He felt like crying again.
But he had to proceed—or else, the cops and the Coroner’s men would be here pretty soon, turning his body around inquiringly like they did Trevor Carter’s.
He shuddered.
And something leathery lashed out through one of the openings between the steps. It flogged his calves, helping him to make that urgent decision to proceed and stop being a coward.
He screamed when he was struck.
He screamed as he tripped.
He screamed while in flight.
His scream died away when he crashed face-first into the wooden flooring at the foot of the stairs.
From behind him, his attacker hissed— a very freaky, feline sound.
Even before he looked back, Donnie already knew the intruder was barely a couple of feet away.
Donnie was gravely wounded, but he couldn’t afford to let the opportunity of an escape—hell, was there one yet?— elude him. He scrambled to his feet, and at the same time, the creature with the chimpanzee’s features swung its scythe in a wild horizontal arc towards Donnie’s neck.
Ducking and jerking his head away from the scythe’s lethal path—the only remarkable thing he had done so far tonight—Donnie ran out through the open doors.
And The Outcast followed.
******
The chase would be sweet.
He had known all along that this would be the best kill in a long time. He had planned it.
Having gone through the recent mundane experience with Trevor, The Outcast couldn’t afford to be put through such agony again. It was unbearable, and just reliving it each time made him shudder.
Chapter 10
Thursday, August 13
It was a few minutes past ten in the morning, but the sun, completely wrapped in blankets of clouds, appeared resolute to linger in its slumber.
Across from the school, behind a thick overgrown bush set back from the road, The Outcast watched.
A while ago, from his vantage point, he had seen the boy, sad and afraid, heading towards Trevor Carter’s office. Fury soaked him up at the thought of the injustice his True Blood was going through—the same things he himself had gone through before his maltreatment had eventually culminated in him being forced out of the community. He didn’t have to engage in any thorough imaginative exercise to draw a conclusion as to what was going on behind Trevor Carter’s closed doors. But it
A step across the threshold. A creak of the floorboard. More wincing, quick trembling.
He groped along the gloomy landing, looking this way and that, not seeing a lot and expecting to be jumped at any moment, but still hoping like crazy he would go through all of this shit in one piece.
You still don’t mind the gush of blood through your nose, Donnie Baby? Ah, I’m proud of you.
No, he didn’t mind. Screw the blood. And screw the pride. He had to do something quickly, do something to live beyond tonight.
On the staircase now, stealing along the steps—the kind that have emptiness in-between them—and trying to avoid any tell-tale sound at all costs. He held the coat hanger straight ahead of him, shivering, and at that moment, he wondered if he would be able to use his weapon efficiently if the occasion ever arose.
Close to the downstairs landing now. Would he make it through tonight? Make it through to have another chance to smile and enjoy the good stuff life had up for grabs?
He could only hope.
The downstairs was not as murky as the upstairs. He instantly realized the doors—both the one connecting the foyer to the living room as well as the one between the foyer and the main entrance doorway—were open. Lights from the street lamps spilled in through the openings.
Perhaps his stalker was still inside the house? If so, where exactly was it located? Donnie couldn’t turn and run back upstairs. He might be running just into the arms of his assailant by so doing. Right now, his initial ailing courage to progress downstairs became dead altogether. He felt like crying again.
But he had to proceed—or else, the cops and the Coroner’s men would be here pretty soon, turning his body around inquiringly like they did Trevor Carter’s.
He shuddered.
And something leathery lashed out through one of the openings between the steps. It flogged his calves, helping him to make that urgent decision to proceed and stop being a coward.
He screamed when he was struck.
He screamed as he tripped.
He screamed while in flight.
His scream died away when he crashed face-first into the wooden flooring at the foot of the stairs.
From behind him, his attacker hissed— a very freaky, feline sound.
Even before he looked back, Donnie already knew the intruder was barely a couple of feet away.
Donnie was gravely wounded, but he couldn’t afford to let the opportunity of an escape—hell, was there one yet?— elude him. He scrambled to his feet, and at the same time, the creature with the chimpanzee’s features swung its scythe in a wild horizontal arc towards Donnie’s neck.
Ducking and jerking his head away from the scythe’s lethal path—the only remarkable thing he had done so far tonight—Donnie ran out through the open doors.
And The Outcast followed.
******
The chase would be sweet.
He had known all along that this would be the best kill in a long time. He had planned it.
Having gone through the recent mundane experience with Trevor, The Outcast couldn’t afford to be put through such agony again. It was unbearable, and just reliving it each time made him shudder.
Chapter 10
Thursday, August 13
It was a few minutes past ten in the morning, but the sun, completely wrapped in blankets of clouds, appeared resolute to linger in its slumber.
Across from the school, behind a thick overgrown bush set back from the road, The Outcast watched.
A while ago, from his vantage point, he had seen the boy, sad and afraid, heading towards Trevor Carter’s office. Fury soaked him up at the thought of the injustice his True Blood was going through—the same things he himself had gone through before his maltreatment had eventually culminated in him being forced out of the community. He didn’t have to engage in any thorough imaginative exercise to draw a conclusion as to what was going on behind Trevor Carter’s closed doors. But it
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