And Then There Were Three

From Outside

In the room, four musicians stood. 

They were all huddling close to each other as the noises that originated from beyond the locked door grew louder.

George worked to make out the outline of the last flashlight they had, which was laying on the torn up carpet on the floor. 

"Uh..." Ringo paused for a moment, voice shaky with fear and apprehension as George grabbed the flashlight.

The drummer's gaze fell on the other two in the room. 

Through the darkness that shrouded the living room, he could barely make out John and Paul, the latter of which was looking away from Ringo.

"W-was anyone s-seen by t-them w-went we went out f-for supplies?"

George, wiping the sweat from his forehead, pointed the flashlight towards the three and turned it on.

John, Paul, and Ringo stared back at him.

John's blue shirt was stained with dirt, one of his shoes missing. He only stared back at George with a worried expression, trying to maintain his mind in the situation.

Paul's hair was tangled and his eyes were wide with fear. His gaze kept on moving across the furniture in the room, most of which were torn and broken.

Ringo did not have his light blue sweater on, for he had lost it long ago. In his hand, he held a small black leash that had the name Bartholomew on it.

The frog that it had once belonged to was nowhere to be found in the house, the four of them knew.

As the moaning from outside grew in both volume and intensity, George had to actively keep himself from being to loud when he spoke.

"Which one of you did not follow me orders?"

Ringo, brushing a strand of hair away from his eyes, turned over to him.

"It w-wasn't me, I swear."

John's gaze landed on the staircase at the light fell on him.

"It wasn't me either... and... why can't we just hide ourselves upstairs?"

"You know that they follow us, John. And if we don't be careful, we'll only end up attracting more of them. It doesn't matter if we hide..."

George took in a small breath, once again looking at his friends in turn.

"They know that there's at least one human in here, we don't have anything to fight them with, and the back door was boarded shut from the outside. We can't go out that way."

"If only we found a hammer..." Paul whispered, finally looking over at George.

"Look, someone in here was seen by them when we were outside, and... and... whoever it is, they need to... go outside to save the rest of us..."

After George finished, Ringo went over to the torn up couch and sat down on it, starting to whimper as he tried to examine the leash in the dark.

"Oh Bartholomew..."

John looked down at the wooden floor beneath him as the moaning grew nearer.

"As I told you, It wasn't me. It wasn't Paul either, I'm sure of it."

"Well it has to be one of us."

George groaned and shut the flashlight off in order to conserve the batteries within it.

"This isn't funny, John. You know what they'll do to us."

"Listen George, I don't know what to tell you."