Duo's Revenge

Chapter 6: Enough

The note fell from my hands, fluttering to the floor, as I was shaking far too much to have a firm grasp on it.

Then, I fell to the floor, my face in my hands. I looked at the floor between my fingers and saw that my skirt had become soaked with the dark red blood of my friends, which there was a nauseatingly large pool of on the floor. I let out a scream, and ran from the room. As I ran from the room, I slipped and fell. My legs hit Kate's side table, causing the small glass of water on it to fall onto the floor and shatter into a million pieces. At that moment, I felt much like that glass: broken beyond repair.
As I moved to get up from the floor, I felt a sudden, stinging pain, and hissed. I looked at my legs and saw shards of glass stuck in them, making them bleed. I cursed, took a breath, and began pulling them out one by one, wincing and letting out a small yelp each time. Finally, about ten minutes later, I was finished. I got up at last and went to find a broom to clean up the mess I had made so Kate's mother wouldn't be upset when she arrived home, then remembered the situation I was in.

I bit my lip and continued to, even after it began becoming painful. I suppose I was trying to suppress my pain with more pain. I allowed tears to continue to roll down my cheeks as I ran out of Kate's room. As I was walking past her living room, I was hit with the realization that the murderer could be in here right now, aware that I was there. I quietly scolded myself for being so noisy. I stood in place, fearing that the murderer would see me. I felt as though I was in an oven, I was so hot. Sweat penetrated my shirt, and I could thought I could hear my own heartbeat.
Twenty minutes passed, and I finally decided to move–slowly, but moving slowly was still moving, was it not? I was moving at a snail's pace, about an inch, perhaps even half an inch, per two minutes, practically tip-toeing my way out of the home. Every time I contemplated moving faster, my mind reminded me that I was in danger of being killed, and I resumed my terribly slow journey to the front door.
Finally, after forty minutes, I was at the front door. I was reaching the doorknob, about to turn it, when I suddenly decided to get a knife from the kitchen. I turned around, took a deep breath, and made a mad dash for the kitchen, praying the murderer wouldn't be there.

When I arrived in the kitchen, though, I was met with a shortage of knives. A total lack of knives, in fact. The knives Kate's family used when cutting steak were all gone. I opened the silverware drawer, and the knife section was absolutely empty. There was, however, a tiny scrap of paper, with writing on it so tiny that I had to hold it a mere inch from my eyes in order to be able to understand what it said.

YOU REALLY THINK I WOULD ALLOW YOU TO ARM YOURSELF, DAPHNE? HOW SILLY OF YOU.

My breath hitched, I dropped the note and ran out the door, going as fast as I possibly could. Sobbing, I decided to not go to my house first and instead took a detour to Kate's neighbor's house. I arrived at her front door and knocked furiously, panting and an absolute mess.
Mrs. Mayer opened the door. Mrs. Mayer was a kindly elderly woman in her mid-70s. When Kate, our friends and I were younger and have play dates in the summer, Mrs. Mayer would always have a stockpile of Capri-Suns and fresh-baked pastries to give us. While it had been a while since I'd last seen her, she was like a second grandmother to me.

"Hello, dear–what's wrong?" She has a concerned look on her face, and put a hand on my shoulder.
I struggled to talk through my sobs, but somehow was able to speak. "Kate–"I said, "she–someone–all of my friends–murdered–I don't know who–"
Her eyes suddenly darkened, and she immediately pulled her hand away from me.
"I thought you knew, dear," she said. "We all know. Everyone knows."
I sniffled, wiping my tears with my sleeve. "Wh–knows what?"
"That He is here," she said, with what was almost a small smile on her face. "He has arrived, and He is making himself at home. But do not fret, as He will not stay long. He has many places to be. Many people abandoned Him, and He is furious. They must atone for their sins and pay with their lives."
"What are you talking about?!" I exclaimed, my voice quavering. I was unable to hide my fear. "You're scaring me, Mrs. Mayer."
She laughed, a loud, long laugh. "If I'm scaring you, dear, He will absolutely terrify you. He will haunt you at when the sun is resting and when the sun is awake, shining down on the earth. He will haunt in your nightmares and during the daytime. Whatever you see, He will be there. Finally, He will truly be there, and it shall be the last time you see Him. For one only sees His face in the flesh once before He makes them pay for wronging Him."