October 25th

Is the whole blasted world crazy? Well, really there must not be much left. Just people like The Man and...Gloria. That nut made her big move last night, and it wasn't pretty.

These days I crash hard and sleep deep. God, I would have slept right through it had it not been for True. What woke me up was her clammy hand over my mouth. She put a finger to her lips to ensure my silence. My first thought was Holy Christ, she's here to get some. Goodbye virginity, hello manhood!

True's reasons for coming into my room weren't sexual in the slightest. I realized that after hearing clatters from the master bedroom.

Louise and Michael.

A groan leaked through the layers of sheet-rock separating our rooms. They're bumpin' uglies, I thought. Wrong again, though. True wouldn't steal into my room in the dark of night to inform me Louise and Michael were practicing baby-makin' techniques. The mind flashes down strange avenues when startled awake.

"What are they doing?" I whispered.

True looked at me, but said nothing.

"True, I know you can talk, so answer me. What's wrong?"

She didn't need to answer. Louise's short but loud scream got me out of bed. I forgot about Mutie and went into the hallway. Behind me, Gloria and True's bedroom door was open. I didn't need to look inside; I could tell it was empty. In front of me, drops of blood littered the wood floor of the hallway. At the end of it was the door to the master bedroom, which was closed. When I tried to turn the knob, it slipped and wouldn't open. Blood-smears covered the chrome-plated knob.

I lifted my pajama shirt to wipe away the blood. Then I took a breath and opened the door. If I had ever opened the door to the kill room, I probably wouldn't have seen as odd and grotesque a sight as the one I did within the master bedroom.

Michael lay against the side of the bed, glass from the table-side lamp all around him. Bits of glass were in his hair and lap. A nasty looking cut was bleeding from the top of his head. His eyes were closed, but he wasn't sleeping by choice. Gloria had knocked him out. The small chunk of skin missing from his upper arm boggled my mind. From the indentations, a knife wasn't the culprit. The bitch had bitten him.

I scanned the rest of the wreckage: a chair over-turned here, another lamp in pieces over there. The drops of blood from the hallway had graduated to small puddles on the bedroom carpet. On the other side of the bed, Louise was spread out on the floor. Her legs were open, and in-between them was Gloria.

Rug muncher, rug muncher! was the ugly school yard chant that blared in my head. Except it wasn't a rug Gloria was munching on. It was Louise's inner thigh.

Suddenly that overturned chair looked pretty good to me. I picked it up and advanced on Gloria, whose back was to me. In her feast, she failed to hear me. Good thing, because the chair was heavy. I was struggling to raise it above my head when she turned around. Before she could think another cannibalistic thought, I brought the chair down on her.

Her side took most of the impact. I heard vicious cracks that had nothing to do with the chair breaking apart when it hit her. Part of her jaw crumpled inward. One arm was dislocated with a wet popping sound.

"Ooof!" she cried. 

Gloria fell down and rolled over to the left of Louise. I got down, putting my head to Louise's chest. Hearing her slow and rhythmic heartbeat calmed me. I went to check on Michael next. Even though he looked dead, he wasn't. His heart thumped true. To wake him, I slapped him smartly across the cheek. My blow rocked his head to the side. One eye opened.

"Gloria." He rasped.

"Don't worry about her. She's---" 'dead' would have been the wrong word. While I wasn't a doctor, I knew she was just knocked out and might come to at any moment.

Any moment came true as I saw a shadow moving on the bed. I cursed myself for not hitting her with the chair a second, perhaps even a third time. All I could think to do was close my eyes and wait for the end.

Someone gasped, but I can't say who. Next, there was a whoosh, and a thump. I opened my eyes to see a ball beside my foot. A large, hair-covered ball. A head-shaped ball. With a kick, I turned it over and instantly regretted it. Gloria's tongue wagged out of her misplaced head. Since she was closest to me (part of her was), I saw a detail about her that I hadn't before.

"She has one green eye and one brown eye."

"Had." Michael said.

"Had." I said back, looking at the body that had once been attached to the head.

Beyond Gloria's decapitated corpse stood her daughter (her killer), with a katana dangling from one arm. I expected her to say something then. Hell, I think we all did. Even then, or especially then, True had nothing to say.

~*~