Panting violently, he ran through the grotesque, grimy halls, the sound of metal on stone behind him. Thick beads of sweat dripped from his long, black hair, falling to the floor and soaking into the pungent tiles. Sunlight streamed through the half-blacked out windows, blacked out with the blood of unknown souls trapped here before.
Daniel sat in class, clicking his pen incessantly. The blonde haired girl in front of him turned around, looking at him comically. He grinned and dropped the pen, catching the memo.
“Thank you,” Karen whispered. He laughed and looked down, embarrassed.
“Sorry.” She turned back to the front, resting her head on her shoulder. The teacher was talking about iron, or something like that. Daniel didn’t really care, and neither did she. They were anxious to leave, since it was the last class of the last day of school. They were so close to freedom. Dating for only six months, they hadn’t had a chance to spend much time together outside of school. Homework was ridiculous, and each teacher seemed to think that they were the only one that mattered. 3:00, he thought. Four more minutes.
“Now,” Mr. Fischbach paced between the small, wooden desks. “Iron is an interesting element, number 26. It’s very hard, which is why it’s used in a lot of… tools.”
Nearly bored to tears, the bell rang. Students cheered in delight, jumping out of their desks and getting out of the school as soon as possible. Daniel and Karen hung near the back, waiting for everyone else to leave. She leaned in close; he could feel the breath from her lips on his face.
“We’re done,” she frowned, looking into his eyes, but the frown quickly turned into a smirk. “with school.” Closing her eyes, she leaned in and kissed his lips.
Arriving at home, Daniel grabbed the knob and turned it, but to his surprise, it didn’t turn. His parents weren’t going to go anywhere today. Where were they? Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the heavy, copper key, tarnished from age and lack of use. Good thing he had a spare.
He turned the knob, pulling hard to get the rusty key out of the lock, opening the door.
“Hello?” No answer. His heartbeat was audible in the absolute silence, his own breathe a gentle rush of wind in his ears. Even though he treaded lightly, his footsteps shattered the silence, tapping against the clean, wooden floor. Entering the kitchen, he felt his heart well up in his throat, choking him. Lying on the marble counter was a raw hunk of meat, dozens of flies and gnats buzzing around it. It looked as though someone had taken the mystery meat and smeared it across the stone surface, leaving streaks of red and brown. Stepping closer to the counter, he was forcibly gagged by the foul air. Stuck into the side of the meet was a pale, yellow envelope. With one sleeve covering his nose and mouth, he reluctantly reached in and plucked it out, the top of it brown and crusty. Still using only one hand, he peeled back the opening. This envelope wasn’t licked. It was moistened with blood. He shook open the filthy parchment, stained with red, yellow, and brown. The letters were punched deep into the paper, crimson black.
“Daniel. I have been watching you for some time now. I know everything about you, and I know everything about everyone you have ever loved. I know your blood type, Daniel. I know what it tastes like. In my opinion, I think Karen’s blood tastes better than yours. It’s slightly sweeter, and has a bit of a kick. She looks more cuttable naked, too, but that’s besides the point.
I would like you to know something, Dan. I have Karen. I asked her if she wanted me to tell you anything, and she told me to tell you that the blacksmith is real. I’m not sure what that means, but I’m assuming it means something to you.
I’m not telling you this to give you a head start. There is nothing you can do to save her, and there was nothing you could have done to save your parents. I did spare your mother’s liver, though, which you’ve already found.
I do not feel the need to explain to you why I am doing this, but for your sake, I will. You see, Daniel, I love pain. I love pain so much, but unfortunately, I cannot feel it like you do. I don’t feel sorry, and I don’t have regrets.
Dan, I’m telling you this because It is your turn. I’ve crossed off the names on my naughty list, and the next name is yours. I can close my eyes and imagine the look on your face as you read this, but it’s a lot easier for me to just watch.”
Daniel shook violently, looking at the dark brown hunk of flesh on the counter. Falling to his knees, he wretched, hearing footsteps approach from behind. The old, slender man put his pale, bony hand on Daniel’s shoulder, using his other hand to scratch his mangly gray beard. Daniel jerked away, sprawling across the floor frantically. He shot up off of his knees and broke into a sprint down the hallway.
The walls were a blur as he sped by, brown and red caked onto the walls. The bonesaw scraped against the sides, sparks flying and dying out in the moist, gore smeared hall. “Where are you running to, Dan?” The voice was clear and calm, but labored from his sprint. Stepping on a chunk of flesh, the old man slipped, knocking over a rack of fishing rods. Falling flat onto the ground, his face plunged into a hook, bursting his eye into a creamy, yellow paste. Daniel was safe.