Resent (complete)

Prologue

There, at the end of the driveway, stood a figure. A person dressed completely in black. A black hoodie, sweatpants, and shoes.

A young boy--Brian--watched in petrifying horror through his window. The child held up his phone to take a picture, for he just had to show his friends and mom the next day. The moon was full that night, giving the strange figure a look of creepiness.

Brian's heart dropped as he tapped the picture button and a bright light spread and shone out the window. He forgot to turn off the flash...

The light signaled the figure. Letting him know that someone was home. Slowly, he starting staggering toward the house. A slow uncoordinated walk. Which turned into a purposeful stride. Then into a full-on tilting sprint. He limped as if he was injured, or out of shape.

The boy screamed bloody murder, trying to signal his mother-who was sleeping upstairs. He failed.

The figure finally made it to the window at which Brian sat, petrified. The two locked eyes for seconds. The moonlight casts an eerie shadow on the assailant's face. Was that a smirk that the boy saw? Brian stumbled away from the window and tripped on a shin-high Lego house he had built recently. He writhed in pain and squeezed his bleeding and soon-to-be-bruised foot.

Brian still lie there stunned with pain. The bad man started banging on the window and shrieked raucously.

THUMP! Crack. THUMP! Crack. The window began to crack with each hit.

"Let me in little boy!" Came the muffled voice of a man.

Brian finally mustered up enough strength to stand on his pain-filled foot and jelly-ish legs. He started screaming as loud as a young boy can scream and limped quickly towards the stairs in the foyer. Step by step he climbed the red carpeted stairs.

"Honey! What's wrong?!" The boy's distraught mother shouted as she jogged out of her room, wearing a light blue nightgown.

As she scooped up her son and ran to her room, the child in her arms shouted "He's outside!" Without thinking, his mother ran into her bedroom, slammed the door, and locked it.

"Who? Who is outside?" His mother whispered.

"The man that was in the driv-"
Shattering glass ended his hurried sentence. The two were frozen in fear as they heard heavy footsteps rushing through the downstairs rooms. Then everything went silent.

The stairs squeaked and less than a second later something made heavy impact with the bedroom door. The mother and son were frozen in fear and sobbing. There was a phone on the nightstand but they were too terrified to move to it.

The beating continued until the door knob was broken. Slowly, the door creaked open. A chuckle filled the room.

"Got you now." The voice was croaky as if cigarettes had ruined their throat. Although there was a lamp on the nightstand, the intruder's face was still hidden from view by a hood. The mother noticed something in the figure's hand as it glinted in the light.

A long, rusty machete.

The intruder advanced toward the two rich people sitting on the bed, unable to flee. An arm raised and was brought down with force onto the mother's head. It was the arm with the weapon. The child screamed as his mother went limp.

Her head was sliced in two. She was Dead. Gone. Unmoving.

"Your turn." The killer announced in a creepily playful voice.

The house was filled with a final high-pitched squeal.