Crimson Visions: The Kids Don't Stand a Chance

T H U D

The sound escaping from the bedroom snapped Avery back to the present. He had zoned out drinking to one his favorite tv shows. He lifted a hand to his head, shaking his head as he tried to shake sleep from his head. Avery Lampert was a local businessman, with aspirations of owning property in Indianapolis and Cincinnati. He was currently on his way, with property in some of the surrounding cities. His current investments was the bar business. He owned several in Muncie, including the most nefarious Joker’s Wild.

Avery was an older gentleman, in his mid fifties. He blinked, his brown gaze slowly going to the dark hallway of his home. He shook his head, dismissing the sound that had rumbled from the master bedroom. Avery’s home was mid sized for Muncie; originally he had planned on buying a larger home but a still angry divorce cut into that plan. He looked to his half empty can of Hams as he smirked. He was clearly hearing things. He reached over, grabbing the can as SPIKE TV played on in the background.

T H U D

He bolted upright, dropping his can has he heard the sound again. He swallowed, a bit of fear and anger rolling in his stomach. The white wife beater that he currently wore hugged his ample figure. He looked around quickly before he moved to grab the shotgun that he had hidden underneath the couch. Light gleamed against the iron frame as he lifted it. It had buckshot in it, but that didn’t matter at this range. At this range, he didn’t have to be a surgeon with the weapon in his hand.

Blue and green light shined from the tv, casting the room in shades of turquoise. Avery moved down the hallway, the carpet giving way to the house slippers that he currently wore. There were four doors in the hallway. One was the closet, another the bathroom. He pushed the door open with his gun as he moved by each room. After a quick scan of the closet and bathroom, he confirmed that there were was no one in the room.

He moved to the two doors at the end of the hallway. He started with the guest bedroom. He pushed it open, his eyes narrowing as he did so. Sweat beads started to roll against his sweaty palm, anticipation began to grow in his form. He pushed the door open hard. Avery was greeted by silence and darkness. Yellow light filtered into the room from the street. He took in a deep breath as he scanned the room. There was no movement.

He turned slowly toward his bedroom. Anger spiked in his body was he just came to the realization that burglar had the gall to break into his home while he was still here. They were probably here for the money in his safe. “Stupid son of a bitch.” he said. He started to open the door, speaking loudly as he did so. “Hey asshole. You got two seconds to get outta here before I blow your head off with this shotgun.”

He pushed the door open hard. The door slammed into the wall as he forced himself into the room. The closet, in which the safe was located, was halfway open. The window was wide open, wind blowing the curtains in a soft manner. Avery started to move toward the window. Moonlight hit his figure as he moved in front of it. This gave him a perfect view of his backyard, which was currently empty. A look of anger started to move across his face as he slowly started for the closet. He aimed his shotgun at the door. “You got two seconds...”

He took a step forward before pain surged through his ankle. He screamed in pain, falling to the ground. The shotgun fell from his hands toward the dark closet. Avery looked downward toward his bleeding feet. It was then that he saw it. Twin gleaming eyes stared out from underneath his bed. Crimson blood stained the carpet as he started to crawl toward the gun. Nathan’s right hand slammed into the carpet next to his legs as the beast started to pull himself from underneath the man’s bed.

That madcap grin was painted on Nathan’s face. It was the type of grin someone would get from ripping the wings off a butterfly, or hurting some small animal. And in that case, it was Avery. Another hand pulled itself free from the dark confides shadows as Fairchild put his hand on the other side of Avery’s legs. In his left hand, Nathan held a wickedly sharp knife. It was currently coated in crimson blood.The man was in panic, scrambling like a wild animal. Nathan moved like a serpent, or a nightmare as dragged himself from under the bed. His right hand reached upward, grabbing Avery’s shirt. He was pinned as he fumbled for the shotgun. Nathan’s shadow fell over his form as the beast finally freed himself.

“You forgot to check under the bed, silly boy.” hissed Fairchild as now stood over the man. Fairchild tilted his head to the side slightly, still madcap as he stared down at his prey. Nathan fell to his knees, in turn pinning Avery underneath him. Even now, the bloodstain knife gleamed. Fairchild continued to smile, a sing song tune rumbled from his throat. “A devastating backstroke. All the way from France. With shiny, shiny cufflinks; a shirtsleeve to enhance. The pin-striped men of morning, are coming for to dance. With pure Egyptian Cotton...the kids don’t stand a chance.”

He turned his gaze to the terrified man. Nathan lifted the blade, only to set it against his face. The blade was pointed upward toward Avery’s left eye. Nathan leaned down, grinning like a madman. “Now let’s talk business, friendo.”