Having a dry throat and the urge to drink something I woke up in the middle of the night. With tired eyes I was looking for the alarm clock, reading almost three o'clock in the morning. Shifting the sheets away I stood up and made my way through my room, down the stairs to the kitchen. I tried to turn on the lights but nothing happened. Maybe my parents had forgotten to pay the bill? Weird, they had never forgotten it. But it was too late at night to think about it. Knowing my house well I went to the fridge and stepped into something wet. Curious I looked downwards to see in the light of the shining moon that it was red liquid running out of the fridge. Was it tomato juice? But we never bought some, do we? I opened the fridge and tumbled away a bit to see that it was a separated head which looked like my mothers. With a shocked expression I looked at her closed eyes, blood streaming from her neck like if she was murdered just before a few seconds. Which means that the killer...
Suddenly I heard a low laugh which seemed to be going louder and louder. I swallowed and full of fear I turned around to see a shadow of someone standing in the door case. The shadow was holding something in his hand and made slowly his way towards me. With heavy breathing I recognized a boy, just a few years older than me, but I had never seen something so creepy. In his pale face, covered by strands of dark, black hair there was a grin carved in his cheeks, his eyes were abnormal large and he doesn't seem to blink at all. Then I identified the thing he was holding as a large knife like these the butchers are using. Unable to move I just stared at him.
Then I heard a chuckle again and with a psychotic voice he says: "I love it, when they show me their fear... Isn't this the best feeling you can give me?" Then he spokes up: "Beside your blood of course! GO TO SLEEP!" And with that he swung his large blade towards me, feeling my life move past me I compressed my (e/c) eyes and waited... But nothing happened. When I carefully opened my eyes again I saw my father standing in front of me, ripped open eyes, blood running from his chest and mouth. With a quiet voice he said: "Run (y/n)... Run and survive...!" Hot burning tears came flowing down my pale cheeks and quickly I ran to the door, out of my house, feeling my heart pumping harder then ever before. I stumbled over my own feet, in panic looking behind me, if I was alone, just to see the street lanterns become blurred and disappearing further and further the longer I was running.
I sighed and watched the (h/c) girl ran out. It was a long time since my knife had missed a target but neither I wanted to leave it on me like this nor I wanted to miss the chance to play.
"So... You wanna play a game, won't ya?" My smirk went to a large grin, my wide eyes on the dead man seemed to be her dad. I pulled my blade from the flesh of the corpse, put it back into the pocket of my blood sprinkled white hoodie and turned myself to the door.
"Okay, let's play!"