Nightmare at the Norton's

An unpleasant surprise

Jason's POV

   Jason turned around when Tate screamed and saw little Tommy Norton standing there with a wicked grin on his face. He was holding his knife mere inches from Tate's stomach. Cold hands wrapped around his mouth and nose muffling his cry.
He struggled silently to breath but the hands wouldn't budge. Jason started getting light headed and black dots danced in his vision. He could feel himself slipping out of concuiosness as though he were falling asleep after a long day. Panic caused him to struggle more but despite his attempts to escape, he slipped into darkness.
When Jason came to he blinked and rubbed his hand over his face. His head felt like it had been run over and then used as a soccer ball. Groaning, he sat up. He was in a room but he hadn't been in it before. It must be upstairs.
Tate! Realization scorched his senses and he ran to the door. Jason rattled the door knob. It wouldn't open. The cold presence of Tommy Norton engulfed the room. He wanted to cry. To just give up and cry, but a piercing scream sent shock running the length of his spine and the cold diminished.
   Jason pounded on the door thinking Tate was dead for sure. Sweat ran into his eyes. The door knob turned and he stood back panting. The door flew open slamming against the wall. It was Tate.
"Jason" she said and tackled him.
From where she had made them fall to the floor Jason embraced her.
"Tate. When I heard that scream I thought you were dead." Jason said as warm tears from Tate dripped onto his chest soaking his shirt.
Tate looked up, "That scream wasn't me. I don't know who it was." She sniffled and wiped away her tears.
Confusion swept through Jason like a rabbit running from a lion. Tate stood up and Jason kept to his feet. He ran out the door and to the window.
   Jason strained his eyes trying to see out the small cracks in between the wood planks. What he saw made his blood run cold.
Tommy was standing in the the middle of the yard, smiling. He looked exactly the same as he did before, except one thing. His knife was steadily dripping blood, a small pool had accumulated at his feet.
Jason slowly turned to Tate, "We have to get out of here." He told her, grabbing her trembling hand, "He's done something...hurt someone."
She gave him a look, "What are you talking about? Hurt who?"
He shook his head and gulped, "I don't know." He pulled her towards the stairs.They stumbled loudly down the stairs and Jason rammed his shoulder into the door. To his surprise, it flew open and he fell awkwardly onto the porch. Tate gasped and helped him up. Jason stood painfully. The air around them dropped in temperature. Tate shivered. Tommy, who was still holding a bloody knife, appeared ten feet in front of them.
   "They deserved it you know." He said, glitching, "They needed to die. They told me it was their fault you came here. They died painfully, and now it's your turn." A murderous smile flashed across his face before returning to a scowl. He blinked away and reappeared behind Jason. The child flicked his hand and Jason went flying into the yard. He heard Tate scream and a door slam as he rolled to a painful stop. Jason scrambled to his feet and looked back towards the house. Tate was gone but Tommy was still there, so that gave him a little hope. Little Tommy started to advance towards him but then he stumbled and flickered. Jason saw a grimace flash across his face that contorted into a glare before he disappeared.
Jason put his palm on the ground and tried to push himself up onto his feet. His arm slipped out from under him and he felt a cold, sticky, liquid seep through his shirt. Looking down he could see a puddle of blood beneath him in the small dawn light.
Jason scrambled painfully to his feet and searched his whole body for wounds. Nothing, just a few small scratches that were not in anyway able to bleed this much.
Straining his eyes, Jason looked around and realized that there was a trail of blood leading back behind the shed opposite the house. Slowly Jason walked over to it. Taking a deep breath, he walked around the shed.
Immediately he turned and threw up. His knees hit the ground hard and he was sure that it would leave a bruise. Steadying himself, Jason stood up and turned around to face the mess that lay in front of him.
Jackson, his life long friend, lay in the middle of a huge puddle of blood, flesh, and mud. His body was contorted like a gymnast's and was missing pieces of flesh everywhere. Blood ran from his mouth, ears, and nose. He looked like a butcher had botched the job and just left the gruesome scene for the next unknowing customer.
Tears flooded Jason's eyes and bile rose in his throat as he looked over at Alyssa and tried not to throw up again.
She also looked like a botched job but half of her face had been ripped off in shredded strands. There was a deep cut down her torso and she was nearly cut all the way in half.
"Oh gosh." Jason said out loud covering his mouth with his hand. Tears rained on the ground and mixed with the red river coming from the mangled bodies of his two friends.
A cold hand brushed across his neck, and his hand fell to his side in alarm. Jason turned around to be smothered by a piercing, cold hand on his mouth and nose. A woman stood there. He recognized her. The lady from the painting on the wall in the living room.
Elizabeth Norton, Tommy's mother, lowered him to the ground. Jason couldn't breath and tried to struggle against her, but she just shushed him and carefully layed him on the sopping ground. A chocked sob escaped Jason's covered mouth and the Black Sea of unconsciousness swallowed him.