What Lies Beneath

Chapter Thirteen: When a Killer Comes a Knocking

Charlie stood outside of the house contemplating all the fun that he was going to have. He didn't know how many people were in there, but it looked like the house was large enough to fit a whole lot of unsuspecting victims.

At the thought of all the anguish that he could cause, Charlie practically raced up the stairs with giddiness.

Unlike the others Charlie didn't hesitate to press the doorbell. With each chime the smile on his face spread even wider. When the door finally opened, he found a short wrinkly old woman standing in front of him.

"Hello, Charles." The woman said his name bluntly before he could utter a single word.

"It's Charlie." He was quick to correct her.

"I know." The way that she said that she knew, infuriated him. He had met people like her before. Yes, he had gutted them right in front of their families, not that they remembered, after making them beg for their lives.

"Can I come in now or are you just going to leave me standing out here all day?" As if answering his question, the lady stepped aside and let him in.

Once inside, Charlie found that the house was very old and looked disgusting inside. The room that he was in had been decorated with a bunch of old crap and there were way too many pictures on the ugly grey walls. Not that it mattered, when he was finished there the walls would be painted red with the blood of his victims.

"We are about to sit down for breakfast. You can leave your bag here or take it with you, your choice." The old decrepit lady turned away from him and began to trudge down a long hallway.

Charlie picked up his suitcase and followed the lady. He wasn't about to leave his stuff unattended in a house like this.

The walk wasn't long to the dining room, but he had gotten a headache from the bad lighting that seemed to litter the house.

The room was quiet, even though there were three people sitting at the table. He could feel the tension in the room, and he reveled in it. He had figured that there was going to be more people here, though. He supposed that four would do, for now.

Now all he had to do was decide where to sit. He wanted to sit next to someone to get a better understanding of the situation, but who should he pick. He could sit next to the boy with short blondish looking hair, but that probably wasn't the best idea. If something should happen, he would obviously fight back. After all he clearly wasn't shy about fighting, Charlie thought to himself after noting the bruising on his face.

The other option was the girl with the short brown hair. Whenever he looked at her, he could picture himself carving up her pretty face. Yes, she would make a fine choice. Charlie started to move towards her but stopped when he felt the pressure of someone's hand on his shoulder. He turned his head to see who it was, only to discover that it was the hideous old lady who had answered the door.

"You're going to be sitting next to me and my friend over there today." Charlie stared at the woman with hate filled eyes.

"I suppose that will do." He smiled at the old woman in such a way that would cause any normal person to flinch, but she didn't move an inch. Instead she looped her frail arm through his muscular one and pulled him towards the head of the table.

"You must be Charlie." The woman sitting at the table said as they approached her.

"I am, and who are you, if you don't mind my asking?" Charlie hated pretending to be polite, but it seemed that that's how it had to be in this house.

"My name is Gwyneth." The woman offered her hand out for a quick shake. The thought of crushing her possibly arthritic bones crossed his mind as he took her hand, but instead he went with a light squeeze.