Escape from the Hell House

 "Here's what we're gonna do," I breathed in Therese's ear. She responded only with understanding silence. "He came in last night, so he's probably going to come in again. As soon as that door opens..."

I didn't understand why in two days, no one had noticed our absence or looked for us. Someone should have come knocking, riddled with concern and good intent and as close as the bathroom was to the front door, we would have heard it. It was true. No one had come for us.

 She seemed to accept my desperate plans. We waited there, prepared to act at any moment, for what felt like a span of years. When we finally heard the faint thumping of footsteps on the other side of the door, I tensed up and moved closer to the wall. I had no intention of dying here, but what I was bracing myself to do could very well end up killing me.

                                  

The creak of the door was drowned out by Therese's shriek as soon as Bailey's figure appeared in the doorway.

 As he switched his gaze to his shouting wife, I lunged on him from behind. My hands wrapped around his torso. My fingers grazed the cool steel of the gun as I summoned all of my strength to attempt to wrench it from his grip. He zoomed back and slammed me against the door, causing me to grunt and sink down to the floor.

 I gripped his ankle and pulled him down to my level. Before he could do anything I was on top of him, scratching, clawing, kicking, biting... It came to a point where I was not truly even there anymore. My primal instincts took over with one focus: getting the hell out of that house.

BANG!

 I recovered from the shock of the stray gunshot before Bailey and took the opportunity to pry it from his hands. I was on my feet in an instant with the gun in his face. I thought I heard a pitiful noise escape his throat, but I soon realized that the sound had come from a different direction.

 I couldn't turn around to look. I remained focuses on Bailey, but I knew that behind me, Therese was on the ground moaning in agony. The stray bullet that escaped in the middle of our struggle had found its way to Therese and I knew in my heart from that awful sound that she would die.

 "Yes... Do what you love most, whore," Bailey spat at me as he positioned himself on his knees, inching closer to my gun. "Take me... Kill me... That's all your good for..."

I knew what I should do, but still I wavered. He was my brother. Not my favorite person in the world, but my brother. How could I-

"KILL ME! KILL ME YOU EVIL BITCH! DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!"

BANG!

 "THERE I FUCKING DID IT!" I wailed. I certainly had done it, and apparently my aim had been pretty damn good. What had once been my brother's head was now reduced to a pile of red glop strewn across the tile floor. Bailey's blood glistened in the fluorescent lighting as the puddle of red continued to grow larger.

 I sank to the floor in tears. Therese's already dead body laid on my left and my brother's corpse was on my right. I noticed that Therese's cold hand was reaching out for her dead husband, just barely grazing his shin with its icy fingers. That's when I heard a sound on the other side of the door. Someone else was in the house.

 A girl in an ivory nightdress stained with blood stalked through the doorway. I immediately recognized Jeannine, even spattered with gore.

"Oh Jesus," I gasped, lurching to my feet. "Jeannie, shit, we've gotta get you to a hospital... Come on let's go!" I made a move towards her to try to keep her from viewing anymore of the gruesome scene.

 

Her knees buckled down into a primal, tertiary position and a snake-like hiss passed through her teeth. I saw the eyes. Those dead, gleaming, red eyes. In an instant I had the gun in her face.

Click. Click. Click. No ammo.

It's funny how well your memory can work when your life depends on it. I remembered what Therese said about her encounter and I threw myself on her body and yanked her crucifix necklace from around her dead throat.

 

 I whirled around and saw the creature prepared to lunge at me. I gripped the cross in my palm and slammed it into her forehead. She hissed, spat, and screamed as I pressed it deeper and deeper, burning her flesh to the bone.

 

 Her body hit the floor with a thump. It was sickening to watch her writhe around, gripping her burning face. It seemed that she was in the throes of death (again) so I shoved her out of the way with my foot and dashed through the door I had longed to pass through for two days.

I passed by a large chest that had previously been used to barricade the door. I saw a black square sitting on the edge out of the corner of my eye and scooped up my cell phone without skipping a beat. I wasted no time reaching the large double doors, gripping the gold handles, and dashing out into the night.

 A gust of cool night air met me at the threshold of that hell-house. For the first time in days natural air swam through my nostrils and into my open mouth. It was more refreshing than any drink of water I'd ever tasted. I became acutely aware of the stench of death lingering on my borrowed sweater and I ripped it off. The cool, October air felt like the touch of an angel on my bare arms and shoulders.

I dashed to my car, threw myself in, retrieved the key from my pocket, dug it into the ignition, and I was off.

I didn't look back.

Not once.