Sleepy Eyes

The fabric of darkness was tugged away by the sun, as it shined the light first touched the trees and then on the mesa and at the end on the rest of the land. The sunrays hit his eyes, while his hair flew on the wind as freely as someone’s dreams. A tiny tear of blood rolled down his left eye. It shimmed in sunlight, majestically, like piss but when one eats an unhealthy amount of beetroot.

Mark enjoyed the sun for a minute but had a decision to make, whether to save his friends or leave. He could go and ask for help but who knows how far and in which direction the civilization of creates called humans can be. He was pissed, everything lied upon him and he had to make the decision, “Almost 8 billion people in the world, and where are they when you need them?” he thought.

He kicked the goddam beetroot pissing head that he placed at the edge and saw it fly away. The heads aren't football as his foot hurt in the process. As the head was in the air, time seemed to have slowed down, Mark looked into the dead head’s eyes and his lips seemed to say something, at least that is what Mark felt. Mark sensed, whatever the head was trying to say. He couldn't tell exactly what the head said, because he skipped all the lip reading class in college, but it seemed to say, “Fuck You!” Realizing that, he thought, “Thank god I did not attend those classes.”

Mark had decided by now, he would be returning for his friends. Yes, the ones that he doesn't like after 3 hours, but by the end of the day, they are still his friends. He got on his dirt bike and started the journey to go back. He had just moved 10 meters and his bike stopped. Upon close inspection, he found out that his bike has run out of gas. And had no other option but to walk, and so he did.

He began the arduous journey back. By the time he reached, it was evening. Once again he had to go into that house and get his friends out. Mark walked all the way up here and seeing the broken house, he was losing his courage. His mind thought of every possible excuse under the sun to get out. His mind had won the first time as he ran out from here, but not this time. His heart was beating faster than he could beat his meat.

Mark mustered enough courage to get out of the bushes he was hiding in and started walking towards the house. With each step, he got more courageous and with each ounce of courage, he got more scared as he inched close to the house. As he snailed towards the house he saw a figure in the window that walked abruptly from left to right. It was big, bigger than any human he had seen, and none of his friends were that big, so it cannot be them.

The figure abruptly stopped in the window. Mark couldn’t tell because of the ugly dark-colored curtain choice, whether the figure was facing the window or not. But he knew one thing and that was, someone was in the house. It couldn’t be his friends as the killer wouldn’t just let them stroll in his house, let them make tea, and make a mess out of his kitchen, even if they are simply making tea.

And that only meant one thing, the killer was in the house. And he was on alert. No wonder, Mark had somewhat beheaded his only killer friend and took his head as a trophy. He did not intentionally take it, per se, it just happened to bounce on the floor, and dude-perfected it in his bag. And Mark can’t even return the head to dampen the killer's anger, as he has knuckle balled it into oblivion.

Now whatever he does, he has to be extremely cautious, because the killers aren’t exactly a friendly breed, especially the ones who live alone in an isolated house and you happened to Ned stark his friend. But now Mark can only wait, wait for his chance to move in and save his friends at the right time.

An hour or two had passed by now, and Mark was unable to find an opening to enter the house safely to rescue his friends. The figure kept walking around the house. “I am fucking tired sitting here in a bush while this Donny has been walking for two hours,” Mark thought to himself.

After waiting for another few minutes, the murderer seemed to have realized that he has a life outside this shit, so he walked down, got in his car, and drove away. As soon as the car was out of his sight, “This is the moment,” Mark told himself and swiftly darted towards the house.

Upon reaching the porch, he opened the front door and secretly entered the house, even though he ran towards the door like a mad man. Upon entering the door, the first thing he realized, “How good is the interior design of the house. This Donny must be an interior designer in his part-time. This is some serious skill. The shade of the curtains looks very good from the inside compared to the outside. And these Vantablack couch looks like it doesn’t exist,” He got so mesmerized that he forgot about his friends. But our hero snapped out of it.

He looked around to find if he could find any doors and check those before he goes upstairs. He found a door to his and he opened it. It was a kitchen, “Door for a kitchen, interesting!” he thought to himself. The kitchen was clean, so that clean that it did not feel like anyone lives in this place. Looking at the kitchen no one could tell that the person living in this house is a murderer. Mark internally had respect for this Donny all of a sudden.

The kitchen was all clear and it was time to go upstairs. Mark slowly walked towards the stairs. He walked up to the stairs and barged in. No one was present. Mark was perplexed. All he saw was a bunch of twisted ropes in the middle of the room as if the captives had escaped the room. Mark thought to himself, “Did they escape, and did I come here for no reaso…” Even before he could complete his thought, a person jumped on his head. All Mark felt was ‘People’s Elbow’ on his head.

It took Mark a few seconds to gain consciousness after such an electrifying move. He looked at the face that hit him in the head and it was his friend, Rhonda. “Rhonda! What the actual fuck was that?” he said with sheer shock and loss of brain cells from such a devastating move.

“I thought it was that guy who kidnapped us. I was posted up there waiting for him,” she replied with an apologetic tone.

“Posted were, there, on the fucking ceiling.”

“Yes, it is an old trick. Nonetheless. We will be fine now,” she replied and yelled, “Come out. It is safe,” hearing her voice all the dudes started coming out, one came from the closet, one crawled out from under the bed.

“Why was everyone hiding, while Rhonda was out here ready to fight,” Mark asked his friends.

The one on the ceiling fan replied, “For the same reason you ran away from.”

“What the actual fuck are you doing on the fan? What if I entered the room and turned the fan on?” Mark asked the guy.

“You spin my head right round, right round. When you go …”

“Shut the fuck up. We are in such a big mess and you are here fucking around…”

“What goes around, goes around. Comes all the way back around.”

By now, Mark was done with this guy and did not bother to bother him.

“Let’s leave and not waste any time further,” Mark spoke eagerly scared that the killer will come back. Everyone agreed. The guy on the fan jumped down. And looked around the room to find his scattered shoes. He made everyone find his right shoe and once they found it, everyone ran down the stairs. As soon as they reached the door, they heard the engine of the car. The killer was back, and so everyone scattered in panic.

The killer opened the door and the floor was vacant as it should be. But he heard a squeaky noise coming from the top. He tracked the sound to know where it was coming from and it was coming from the ceiling. He looked up and was confused. Mark’s friend was once again on the fan, chilling like it’s normal.

The killer yelled and so did Marks’ friend. Killer yelled personified while the Donny on the fan screamed in terror. The killer stopped screaming, but Mark’s friend did not. But Rhonda jumped on the opportunity and the killer himself. She sneaked on him and tackled him and they both fell on the ground. Jim ‘The fan lover’ Corey jumped from the fan on the killer's back. He thought he heard something, something breaking, and so he felt awful and rolled away.

Everyone including Mark came out. Rhonda did not give any fucks and got him in an armbar. Mark and one of his friends grabbed his legs, even though it wasn’t necessary, but they were helping, at least they thought so. Rhonda ‘No Fucks Giver’ Rowdy, did not stop and kept cranking that armbar, and at the end, the killer's hand snapped.

As soon as Rhonda noticed the snap, he backed off. She knew the deal was done and he wasn’t a threat anymore. Both the dudes let the killer’s leg go. The killer to their surprise did not show any emotion, as if he did not feel any pain. She had broken his hand, the fan fucker had probably broken his ribs or two, but yet he stood up like it was nothing.

He started attending to his hand like it was some kind of a lego hand that would be fixed by tightening the joints. But this group was a bunch of intelligent human beings apart from the fan fucker, and they all attacked him. One by one everyone grabbed his limbs and Rhonda tackled him down. Then she went ahead and grabbed him in a choke and squeezed his neck until his eyes did not poop out. Within few seconds, he fell unconscious and the group let him go once again.

As soon as Rhonda let him go and stood up. The killer sprung his trap. He grabbed the leg of one of the Mark’s and stabbed him in his leg, and stabbed him in the again in the chest as he fell down.

The rest of the group got scared and pulled back as the killer had equipped his knife and now the battle was somewhat difficult. Seeing his best friend die, Mark’s friend yelled in agony and jumped on the killer. He punched and elbowed the killer right in the head, but this guy hit like a wet noodle. He did not damage and in fact, he may have healed the killer in the process. And guess what he too got stabbed.

Mark’s both un-named friend’s bodies lied in their own blood, chilling, not because they wanted to, but because they were dumb and dead. The strength of the heard was starting to dwindle and so it was now or never. The entire squad traded a look and ran towards him, like the fools they were. Running in, asking to be slaughtered. Mark who was in the middle, fell on the ground and sliding tackled the killer as running head-on whole be sure shot death. And Rhonda and fan fucker synchronously jumped up and double-kicked him in the chest.

The killer took a direct hit and fell on the ground and dropped the knife. Before he could stand back up, the group charged at him. Mark and fan fucker caught the killer, while Rhonda picked up the knife and stabbed him in the face. It was a headshot, brain shot to be precise. And the killer dropped dead on the spot. He did not twitch or move. Ragged dolled and fell on the ground.

The horror was finally over. Out of five, only three survived. They still weren’t sure whether to relax or not, because that motherfucker always got up. But this time he was dead. They will never know who these guys were that were killing others and what was their purpose. And as a matter of fact, they did not care, all three of them went into the kitchen and enjoyed their last meal in the killer's kitchen. Unsure where this meat was from as it tasted so good.