Hide and Survive - A One Night At Flumpty's Story

House of Cards

Grunkfuss POV

Grunkfuss' patience was wearing thin.

He observed a painting to calm himself. The painting depicted a portrait of a clown, one of many clown-centered paintings in this particular room.

He found that looking at art, along with other things that distracted his mind, helped keep back his anger. It was effective, but it never helped in the long run. His anger would always manage to take over. No matter what.

Throughout his life, he had always known one thing: patience never lasts forever.

Being in the state of anger was never pleasant. He would lose all control of himself and become a murderous psychopath. It was like a flip switched in his brain that told him to kill every living organism he saw. The anger drove him to kill, and killing made the anger recede.

He was firmly trapped in a cycle of endless death.

If he didn't kill, the anger would eventually subside, but every time it returned, it would cause physical discomfort, like an itch that needed to be scratched. It would grow increasingly painful the more times he didn't kill when he was angry.

He had gotten better at resisting that pain, but it still loomed over him. Especially right now.

The contestant was still alive after four nights. Unprecedented. The longer he survived, the longer he wasn't dead, the more the pain, the itch, would gnaw at him when he got angry.

"I can't keep this up for long," Grunkfuss whispered, voice wavering.

It had been a long time since it had gotten this bad.

There had been a time in his life before he met Flumpty. Before he had a constant steam of kidnapped people that he could murder. A time when he had to hide in the shadows and quietly kill off humans in the night. A time long distant.

Eight Years Ago

What have I done?

Grunkfuss ran through the dark neighborhood in complete disbelief.

Blood was all over him, dripping off his body with each step. The full moon's light shined upon him. He had just murdered an entire restaurant full of people. It had been 5 minutes since the crime, and he had fled into a nearby neighborhood.

This had been the gravest atrocity he had committed in his life up to this point. His anger was so powerful this time, his lust for blood so insatiable.

I should've known better...

37 people had died by his hand. A complete massacre. More humans would soon find out. He'd be hunted down and terminated... or worse.

He heard the faint sound of police sirens coming from a distant road. The deaths at the restaurant had indeed been discovered.

Have to get away, Grunkfuss thought.

Grunkfuss thought he heard voices from nearby. Panicked voices. Townspeople began to notice him and screamed.

As he ran across a road, a person walking across a nearby sidewalk shone a flashlight upon him, illuminating his bloody form.

A couple people emerged from their houses and screamed, signaling his location.

No, no, no...