ʜɪᴅᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇᴇᴋ

CHAPTER SEVEN

Jay sits upon the bed, and the nurse wraps his arm gently. Jay's hand caresses the bandaged arm, almost as if the reminder of last time wasn't enough. The nurse opens the door, stepping between Skyler and Cole.

"Did she say anything?" Asks Skyler.

"Not much, I just need to take painkillers for a few days," responds Jay.

The guys help Jay off of the bed and begin making their way back to Millie's room. Jay suddenly stopped, and someone had grabbed ahold of his arm. His eyes meet the gaze of Dr. Collins.

"Jay, what happened?" She asks.

"I had an accident," Jay continues, "What are you doing out here?"

"My sister works in the hospital, I'm visiting for the weekend," Dr. Collins replies.

Jay nods. The guys look confused. They're suspicious, almost as if she could have planned all this. Jay takes in her gaze, mesmerised by her eyes.

"Jay, you ok?" Asks Skyler.

Jay nods, unable to speak.

"Well, it was nice seeing you guys again?" She says.

They go separate ways, except for Jay. He's still standing in the same spot as he watches her walk away. Skyler and Cole are halfway down the hall before they realise.

"Jay, come on," says Skyler.

He suddenly snaps out of the trance he is in. He rushes to catch up to the guys. They open the door to Millie's room, the girls sitting around the bedside. Suddenly, there is a knock on the door, and Millie's friends enter.

"Where is the other guy?" Asks Skyler.

"Mike?" Heather continues, "He had to go home. Football game."

"You sure it's ok for him to be alone?" Asks Cole.

"He's a football player. He'll be fine," responds Heather.

Mike takes his football boots from his closet, and he hangs them on the back of his bedroom door. Suddenly, he hears a noise from downstairs, almost like something had smashed.

"Mom?" Mike says.

No response. He leaves his bedroom, his door wide open. Mike gets to the edge of the landing.

"Mom?" He says once again.

Still no answer. He grasps ahold of the bannisters, making his way down the stairs slowly. The steps creak softly. He tries to be as silent as possible. He hears another shatter. This time, he knew it was glass.

"Mom, are you ok?" He asks, his palms sweating as he glides down the bannisters.

He feels weak at the knees, and he begins to tremble. He looks outside the paint glass window in his hall. People go by walking their dogs, the sun shining, and him, trembling as he slowly moves down step by step.

Mike finally reaches the bottom step, his hand now on the lock of the front door. He reaches for the lock, his hands sweating more now. He looks back toward the kitchen.

"Mom?" He asks once more.

Still no answer. Mike takes a golf club from his fathers set. Nine iron, one smack from that, and you'll be seeing stars. Mike takes his hand from the front door, and both hands now grasp the club. He makes his way to the kitchen slowly.

He wipes the sweat from his forehead, and panic begins to set it. He turns the corner, the club resting on his right shoulder.

"Mom, please," Mike says.

He looks down, a pair of feet stick out from behind the island. Mike drops the club, rushing to the aid of his mother. He turns her over to find her throat had been cut.

Mike stumbles back away from the body. He opens the frnech, doors leading into the living room, and he trips over another paur of legs, his fathers. He has suffered the same fate. Mike jumps to his feet, suddenly realising he is without a weapon. He rushes back to the kitchen to find the club still on the floor.

He once again swings it over his shoulder, and he trembles in fear, not wanting to suffer the same fate as his parents. He roams the house, scared. His hands shiver in fright, and he looks back towards the front door.

He moves slowly, step by step. He reaches for the door handle. Suddenly, a swipe cuts his arm open. The attacker jumps from the final stepN catching Mike off guard. He stumbles back, and the club is still raised above his head.

The attacker has the upper hand as the corridor is narrow, and the club takes longer to swing. Mike backs away slowly, his terror now at an all-time high. He trips over his mother's feet, dropping the club.

The killer attacks once again, the knife swiping off him. He drags himself back to his feet, looking around for his weapon. The killer swirls the knife in their hand. Mike throws anything he can get his hands on.

None of it seems to have any effect on the killer. Mike looks behind his attacker, a set of knives sitting in a set, just right of the sink. He knows he only has once chance and can't afford to mess it up.

Mike throws a glass at the attacker, it causes them to cover up, Matt reaches for the knife, and as he turns around, the killer sticks him with their knife, twisting it as Mikes screams are muffled by the killer.

A tear drops from Mike's eyes. The killer stands tall above him, and the hopelessness within Mike begins to show. The killer drops down to one knee and places both hands onto the knife, raises it above their head slowly, and then thrusts down quickly, stabbing Mike, leaving nothing left within him.