Haunted Farm (Interactive)

8 - The Window

The window is closest. It's small, but you're sure you can fit through. The rats are squeaking and climbing over each other to get to you and your companion. Just the thought of the bare bones and the possibility that these wild vermin were the cause of those deaths was enough to make you temporarily insane. In a miasma of desperation, you kick, jump, and claw your way to the window. When you try to open it, it doesn't budge.
     "It's locked!" you say.
     "We'll see about that!" your companion shouts over the squeaking.
     She grabs a rat from the back of her neck and throws it across the room. This seems to make the others angry and they start attacking with fresh vigor. You see her bend down and she seems to be engulfed in a sea of the creatures. You start to help, but they seem to be advancing in numbers, beginning to overwhelm you as well.
      Suddenly, she jumps back up. A bunch of rats go flying and she starts swinging something like mad, clubbing them. You realize she has a large bone. A femur, to be exact. The rats begin to dodge and rethink their strategy. She takes their momentary pause as her queue to slam the femur into the window. Glass sprays outward and you hope soars.
     "Go! I'll fight them off!" she says.
     You don't need telling twice.
     A pile of bones below the window help you get a lift toward the window and you slip out. Sharp pain surges through your thigh as it slides across the remaining glass. You're sure it's scraped. Without even checking, you turn around and take the girl's dirty hand. She joins you on the other side of the window and to your relief and hers, no rats follow. You're both panting like mad.
     "What makes you two think it's okay to break an old man's window?" an old voice asks. "
     His tone is calm, but his voice shakes with age. From your sitting position the ground, you stare up at him. He's sitting on the porch that stops right before the little basement window you just crawled out of.
     "You've got a thousand rats down there and you're worried about a broken window?" the girl with you asks. "You crazy old coot!"
     The old man doesn't reply right away. He whittles some on the little piece of wood in his hand, carving it carefully. He spits some tobacco in a can beside his old rocking chair.
     "You'll pay for that, little girl. Oh, you'll pay," he says. He chuckles to himself.
     You're so busy looking at the crazy old man, it takes you a moment to feel the presence near you. Your companion notices before you do and she gasps.
     A man is standing behind you. He's large and dirty, wearing an old tank top stained with blood and sweat. His eyes are freaky, one almost white and the other some black or brown color. Scarlet droplets have dried on the white eyed side of his face. He wears an old trucker hat that says Fat Joel's Meat Can't Be Beat and he's holding a huge, red-stained meat cleaver. Both reek of an eerie foreboding that tells you the meat isn't pork or beef...
     Your companion has already gotten to her feet and started to run. You take off behind her.
     "Get 'em, Joel!" the old man says excitedly behind you.
     Your feet barely seem to hit the ground. Your heart pounds in your ears. All you can think is, Get away, get away, get away.
     "This way," the girl pants ahead of you.
She's running toward the only other structure in the area--an old barn. You're right on her heels, bursting inside at the same time. Footsteps are close behind and you know you should hide, but when you see what's inside, your stomach twists.
A dozen hooks with gravely wounded people hanging on them. Nearby, a wooden table with blood dripping from it. Next to the table, a few barrels brimming over with body parts. On the top of one, a severed head with curly brown hair, eyes rolled back. The eyes suddenly roll forward and the slack mouth comes to life.
"You should have chose the door!" it screams.
You scream. Your companion screams. Joel bursts into the barn with his cleaver.
----
Sorry, you died.