Get out of the house!

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"Run," mom yelled, dropping the phone on the ground as we both bolted out of the kitchen, and the killer ran after us. I went to the front door. "Malia! No time! Upstairs," she barked. Okay, so I am going to be one of those stupid girls in a horror film that runs upstairs and dies.

As the killer ran after us, Mom kicked him, causing him to fall backward. He managed to catch himself as we made it upstairs. I ran into a room and slid under a bed. Thank god for hardwood floors. Oh, hell, they're dirty! Ugh, I started to panic. My OCD was kicking in big time. I had to calm my breathing.

I heard noises in the hallway. Mom must have been trying to fight him off when I heard a thud. Oh god. I covered my mouth quickly.

As we were trying to fend off one killer, the others were trying to protect themselves.

A glass window to the back door broke, and Claire ushered the four of them into a hidden panel in one of the closets. She placed her finger to her lips to silence them as they heard footsteps.

All she could think about was where Charlie was and prayed he was on his way.

Back at my house, I hid under the bed as the door opened slowly with a creak. I stayed as still as I possibly could while watching a pair of black boots crept into the room and stop.

I stared at them, trying to be as quiet as possible until I felt a hand grab my ankle and yank me out from under the bed. Oh, hell, no, I refuse to die tonight. I took my foot and kicked at him, hitting him right in the junk. Ha, take that!

I scrambled to my feet as he did and made a break for it only to have him tackle me to the floor. Fuck. I struggled as he pulled out a knife, then we both heard the front door open with a loud bang.

"Malia!" Luka yelled.

Before I had a chance to yell, the killer plunged the knife into my leg. Holy hell, that hurt! He got up and made his way out of the door as I tried to get the knife out. Luka ran upstairs and met him halfway up the stairs when the killer kicked him, causing him to fall backward.

The killer then ran down the rest of the way, tackling Luka. They fought, and the killer pulled out a switchblade and raised his hands to plunge it into Luka when dad busted in and fired his service revolver at the killer, hitting him five times, causing the killer to drop right on top of Luka.

Luka pushed the killer off, and dad check for a pulse. There wasn't one; then, they ran upstairs to find us. Dad found mom unconscious in the hallway, and Luka found me in the bedroom trying to remove the knife.

"Don't. If you pull it out, you'll bleed out," Luka said as he removed his belt and tied it around my leg before removing the knife. I screamed when he did that. Dad called for an ambulance then went to check on me.

"Mal?"

"I'm okay, dad, just a little knife wound," I winced in pain.

"Ambulance is on its way. Luka, can you stay with them so I can help Joe and Charlie?"

"Sure, Mr. W," he said as dad left out of the room. He jumped into his truck and sped off. He flew to Charlie's place.

The others hid while they heard a knocking on the wall, then they heard a voice say, "Come out, come out wherever you are."

No one recognized the voice since they used a voice disguiser. "You wanted to play a game, so let's play. It's called who is going to die first."

Claire looked at Damon and motioned him to move. They made their way down a hallway along with Niko, Abby, and Jasmine. Then they heard a panel removed.

"Ooh, hide, and seek my favorite game. Guess what? I win, you lose, now you're all going to die," the person said, making their way towards them.

"Run," Damon yelled.

They ran through the narrow hallway making their way through the house.

"Who the hell has secret passages in their house?" Niko asked.

"Paranoid people would be my guess," Jasmine said.

"You can run, but you can't hide," the person chasing them said.

They found a door and opened it, leading out of the house with the second killer hot on their heels. Only this time, Dad, Charlie, and Joe were waiting with their weapons drawn.

"Put the knife down now," Dad ordered.

The killer had their head down with the black hood covering their face partially.

"But we were playing a game," the person said.

"I won't repeat myself! Drop it!"

They all stood there while the killer didn't move or do anything. They just held the knife and then they started to laugh. Dad, Charlie, and Joe looked at each other.

"You honestly think I would drop the knife, knowing full well what's going to happen if I do. I'm not going to prison or a psych ward. I would rather die than let that happen."

They stood there as the killer raised their head and, with a devilish smile, removed their hood. It wasn't who they all thought it was as they stood there in shock.

Joe looked at them and said, "Gale?"

"Hello, Joe."

"Okay, what the hell is this?" Asked Charlie.

"This was a game, and you lose," Gale said as she rushed toward them before Joe put a bullet in her, dropping her, where she stood. He slowly dropped to his knees in shock.

Before Joe laid his deceased first wife, who had been alive all these years, the question that remained was why?

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