Cabin 6

Part One

He slammed the door, backing up against it. He was gripping the doorknob with both hands backwards, pulling it forward, pressing his elbow against the doorframe and the wall as hard as he could to keep the door pried shut. This was it. The door didn't have a lock, and it was old and thin. Everyone else was gone. His heart was racing like it never had before, and felt like it was about to burst out of his chest. Sharon, Maria, Chad and Mike. They were gone, and Darren still had the blood on his shaking hands. He had tried to help, but there was no chance. They had been ripped away and chopped into pieces before his very eyes.

The two attackers, who were straight out of a nightmare, were now after him, their footsteps nearing the door he held shut with wildly trembling arms. His mind raced back and forth between the two options he had left at this point; he could either let go of the doorknob and make a run for it, or let go of the doorknob, reach over and pull over the table holding the lamp in front of the door, creating an obstacle that might slow his attackers down just enough, and then make a run for it. Was the second option worth it? Would it help him, or would it only slow him down and ultimately have no real effect on his attackers? Whatever decision he made, he needed to make soon. Very soon. He couldn't, though, he was petrified and couldn't help but feel like it was all over, anyway. These intruders really were a nightmare. Maybe that's all this was; a terrible, terrible nightmare. That woman's head. Her eyes. Her laughter. It was picking up again. That bloodstained axe Darren knew was coming up to the door behind him.

That thing they say about your head still being able to see for just a few short moments after being severed, was it true? Was that why Mike's terrified face had continued to grimace, staring at Darren from across the room as he was held by the hair, leaking red all over the floor and down his executioner's arm? No, it couldn't be. That had to have been purely reflex. He couldn't imagine his friends all suffering such a–

CRACK.

The sound of wood splitting under the brute force of an axe cut through Darren's thoughts, just as a sharp edge cut into his neck. Everything went muffled. He fell to the floor, unable to move. There was pain. So much pain. Was he paralyzed?

No. He shifted his eyes upward to the left as he lie on his side, staring at his body before him as it collapsed to the wooden floor. His meaty neck cavity landed right before his eyes, spouting a river of red into his face. Red was all he could see.

So much red.

Red... Red...

...Black.