Fook (46 page)

Caught up in his battle with the pile of
metal and wood, Mark too hadn’t even realized that he’d been
fighting with nothing but a pile of inanimate objects as he ceased
his struggle and looked up at the gun pointed at him.

“Mark, you're hurt,” Phil addressed the boy,
spotting his blood soaked side.

“So are you, Dad.”

“Look out!” Mark shouted, pointing over
Phil’s shoulder as Jason’s knife pierced the right side of his neck
and erupted from the left with a spray of blood.

With the shock of the unexpected attack,
Phil’s hand jerked and with it, a single shot erupted from his gun,
striking Mark in the chest.

Twisting the knife, the blood spurting from
the officer’s jugular sprayed out, soaking the nearby stage
curtains as the accompanying crimson river gushed out over his
shoulder, down his arm and onto the floor where, after a brief
struggle, Phil eventually fell.

Taking the gun from the dead officer, Jason
turned to Mark who, though bleeding from the chest and side now,
was still struggling to get away as he shoved aside a toppled
trombone in his attempt to flee.

As the boy dragged himself across the stage,
Jason slowly followed, giving Mark hope with every second that he
delayed his attack, while at the same time confirming the
inevitable with every exchanged glance as Mark occasionally looked
over his shoulder.

With more important things to do, Jason
stepped on the back of Mark’s knee, halting his forward
progress.

Realizing his fate, Mark gave up, placed his
forehead on the stage floor and began to weep as Jason raised the
gun.

*****

The sound of the second shot made her jump just as
much as the first had. She could only hope that her father was
alright and that this nightmare was over as she made her way down
the dimly lit hall.

“Katie. Katie, where are you?” Sarah
whispered, looking in each room that she passed.

This part of the building appeared to be
used as a community center for the arts, each room having an almost
school-like setup with desks, art tables, posters of music charts
and color pallets on the walls.

“Katie. It’s Sarah. Where are you?”

“In here,” the musty air responded with a
faint whisper.

Not sure where it had come from, Sarah
stopped and listened. There were only two rooms left ahead of her,
but she hadn’t entered and thoroughly checked each room that she’d
already passed, so Katie’s response could have come from
anywhere.

“Where?” Sarah asked, waiting for a response
until finally another “Here,” came floating through the air.

The sound had come from behind her. Turning,
she rechecked the room she’d just passed. As before, it was dark.
Stepping just inside, she searched for a light switch, finding
three beside the door. The first switch snapped upward with a faint
click but offered no visual aid. Trying the second, she again got
no response so she wasn’t surprised when the third also refused to
help.

She’d seen enough horror films to know how
this went. The lights were out, probably because the killer, in
this case Jason, somehow disabled them. He was probably
anticipating that her foolish curiosity and need to find her sister
would lead her to adventure carelessly further into the room where
he was likely waiting to jump out and make her pay for such
stupidity. Well if this
was
a trap and she
was
playing the part of the silly girl, she’d just have to be ready to
defend herself. Spotting a collapsed umbrella, standing in a brass
pot beside the door, she stepped further inside. Though not an
ideal weapon, she was pleased to see that the umbrella possessed a
steel point on the end. Though not sharp, it did at least add some
formidability to the impromptu weapon.

Holding the umbrella in both hands, she
ventured into the room.

“Katie. Are you in here?” she whispered.

There was no response. Continuing further
into the art room, Sarah slowly bobbed between a sea of tall
easels, each holding a large canvas with varying depictions of the
same, human like figure. With no windows however, the further she
got from the dim light of the hall, the harder it became to safely
navigate without bumping into a few of the artistic renderings.
Grabbing hold of one of the canvases as it teetered on its perch,
Sarah stopped.

“What am I doing?” she whispered to herself.
"Obviously Katie's not in here," she thought. She would have
responded by now and if she wandered any further into the room she
ran the risk of becoming trapped if Jason was by chance plotting an
attack.

Deciding to return to the hall, she turned
just as a large dark figure entered her vision. Screaming, she
swung the umbrella, striking the figure and stumbling backwards as
the towering object fell toward her.

Throwing her arms up over her head, she ran
into an easel, sending it toppling into another nearby wooden
tripod and then another. The sound of metal and wood filled the
room as Sarah froze in fear, waiting for the pain of Jason’s
attack, however as the last object rolled to a stop beside her, she
was relieved to have survived the commotion, injury free. Relaxing,
she lowered her arms.

“Sarah.”

Again she screamed, turning toward the door
where a bright light was shining in at her.

“It’s me,” the figure turned the light on
himself.

“Derek,” Sarah sighed with relief. “What did
I—?”

Pointing the light at the floor, the
scattered components from a suit of armor lay all around her, the
only portion remaining on the platform being that of two feet and a
precariously balanced leg. Adding to the mess were the toppled
easels and scattered canvases on which various, childlike
interpretations of the intricate, metallic figure had been
formed.

“What are you doing? Where’s your
sister?”

“I don’t know. I think she’s down her
somewhere. She ran when—.”

Knowing what was coming, Derek prepared for
the question.

“My dad. Did you see my dad?”

He didn’t know how to respond, but then
again, he didn’t have to. She could see it in his eyes, and
instantly her’s began to fill with tears.

“We need to find your sister,” Derek
attempted to refocus her attention on the task at hand.

There would be plenty of time for mourning
but they’d be mourning the loss of one more if they didn’t
hurry.

“Where did you see her last?” Derek
pressed.

Before she could answer however, the sounds
of a poorly played trombone filled the basement.

Looking toward the door, Sarah simply said,
“across the hall,” as she recalled the room filled with musical
instruments.

Attempting to avoid the scattered debris,
they hurried toward the door and stepped into the hall. The music
room was dark, just as the art room had been, the light from the
hall only managing to penetrate about five feet before succumbing
to blackness.

“Stay behind me,” Derek whispered as he
withdrew a gun from his waistband and advanced toward the room.

Before he could even set foot inside the
threshold though, the lights snapped on, illuminating the dozens of
instruments, all laid out in a large, neat circle around the room.
At the center of the room was Katie, gagged, and bound to a chair
with Jason standing beside her, the trombone to his lips and his
cheeks puffed as he struggled to make even one crisp note from the
large brass instrument.

“Let her go,” Derek demanded as Sarah joined
him in the doorway.

“Katie!”

Terrified, Katie struggled to speak through
the rag tied around her mouth as Jason continued to blow one bad
note after another, the tune he was attempting to play finally
coming together as Derek recognized the theme music to
Jeopardy.

Finishing the final jeopardy theme with
those two familiar notes, Jason tilted the trombone to one side to
get a better look at his new guests. “Not bad, huh?” he smiled,
pleased with himself. “Can you believe that it took me two months
to finally be able to play that?”

“You could have used two more,” Derek
critiqued.

“Ouch,” Jason placed his hand over his
chest. “I guess you’re right though. Music was never really my
strong suit,” he acknowledged as he placed the trombone back on its
stand beside the chair.

“Let her go, Jason,” Derek threatened,
holding the gun out in front of him.

“A gun? Really? Have you not learned
anything yet?” Jason sighed. “Alright, how does this go?” he
groaned as he moved behind Katie, who grew more historical as her
captor’s hands rested upon her shoulders. Ducking down behind his
hostage, Jason taunted, “go ahead, shoot,” as he bobbed back and
forth, first looking over Katie’s right shoulder and then her left
before finally standing back up and taking his position beside her
once again. “We both know who’s in control here, so why don’t you
just put the gun down and—”

Two quick shots erupted from the gun. Sarah
jumped and Katie screamed a muffled cry as Jason vanished, the two
bullets striking the cymbals of a drum set to her back. Almost
instantly, while the cymbals still chimed, Jason reappeared, now on
Katie’s right side as Derek pulled the trigger again, sending three
more bullets into the far wall. Again, Jason disappeared.

“This is just getting silly now,” Jason
responded to the attack from the far end of the room, his chair
tipped back and feet up on the desk behind which he sat. “Are you
done yet? Eventually you’ll run out of bullets and we’ll be right
back where we started.”

Realizing the futility in any continued
attack, Derek lowered the gun.

“Good,” Jason vanished once again.

Scanning the room, trying to figure out
where he’d rematerialize, Derek and Sarah exchanged a look as no
sign of Jason could be found until…

“Now, back to business.”

Turning, they spotted Jason once again
standing beside Katie as he grabbed the trombone from the stand
and, yanking off the slide, issued a menacing smile before plunging
the two pronged, brass weapon into Katie’s stomach.

“No!” Sarah screamed as her sister’s eyes
widened, the slide passing clean through and exiting her back as
she slumped forward in the chair.

“You son of a—!” Derek charged Jason as
Sarah ran to her sister’s side.

Squaring for the impact, Jason vanished,
sending Derek careening into the drum set.

“Katie! Oh god Katie!” Sarah cried, pulling
the gag from her sister’s mouth and lifting her head to look into
her fading eyes. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Unable to speak, tears ran down Katie’s face
as she stared at her sister in shock before lowering her gaze to
the shiny brass object protruding from her stomach.”

“Oh god, no,” Sarah grabbed the trombone
slide, ready to pull, then reconsidered for fear of opening the
wound and potentially causing her sister to bleed out. It wasn’t
until their eyes locked again that she realized what was running
through Katie’s mind. Though unable to speak, her eyes said it all.
“The Baby.”

“It missed,” Sarah attempted to comfort her
sister as she took another look at the wound. “It’s alright. She’s
okay,” she continued, but quickly realized the futility of her
words as she met her sister’s eyes once again, but this time,
couldn’t find Katie within them. “No!”

“Awe.”

Looking up, Sarah saw Jason standing right
where he had been when Derek had charged. Jumping to her feet she
swung, surprised as she landing a solid right.

Holding his jaw, Jason smiled just as Derek
connected with his lower back, sending them both tumbling into a
nearby cello and pair of violins. Ending up on top of the fallen
psychopath, Derek began delivering blow after blow. Obviously too
distracted by the wave of attacks to gather enough concentration to
initiate a jump, Jason took hit after hit.

With each landed blow, Derek could feel
things turning in his favor, right up to the moment that a violin
exploded against his right temple, dropping him to the floor beside
Jason who remained motionless for a moment, stunned by the beating
he’d just received before finally getting to his feet and tossing
the remains of the string instrument’s handle to the floor.

“Fuck! You hit hard,” Jason laughed, wiping
at his bloodied nose with the back of his hand as he yanked the gun
from Derek’s waistband and standing over his friend, firing two
shots into his chest.

“No!” Sarah screamed.

Sensing Sarah’s closing distance, “Ah, ah,
ah,” he raised the gun in her direction as Derek struggled to get
to his feet.

“Really, Jason turned to see his friend on
one knee. Firing off another shot, Derek dropped.

Wanting to run to his aid, but blocked by
the man between them, Sarah just watched as Derek gasped, then fell
motionless.

Staring at his fallen friend, “You know, I’m
recalling a certain promise I made,” Jason turned back to Sarah,
wrapping his gun holding arm around her as he drew his knife and
placed it against her chest. “Do you know what it was?”

Closing her eyes, anticipating her end, she
didn’t know what else to do but weep.

“There, there,” He mocked. “It’s not that
bad. It will be quick, well…maybe not. You’ll probably survive the
cutting…and maybe the rib cracking.”

Sarah wept harder.

“It is a shame though, I really did want him
to see me tear that precious little heart from your chest.”
Glancing over her shoulder, “then again,” he added, looking down
her shirt. “It would be a shame to let such perfection go to waste.
After all, who’s going to take care of you now? Daddy’s gone. Sis
is gone. Even your precious boyfriend didn’t make it.”

Opening her eyes again, she hoped to see
some sort of movement from Derek, but he remained on the floor just
as still as he had been.