"OK, Kale, you're free to go now," said the police officer, after taking his statement. They exited the interview room and made their way down the hall which led to the reception of the police station.

Kale Brecht looked tired. More than that, he felt like he could just drop down on the floor now and sleep, right where he was. "Where's my mother?" Kale asked, running his hand through his hair, which felt dirty and smelt of decay. His clothes had a similar odour to them, and he felt repulsed every time he took a breath, because he could still smell that disgusting stench of the rotting bodies – which belonged to the people that Turner had killed.

The officer shrugged. "I guess she went home. She wasn't hurt much, just a bit shaken." Kale, seeming to accept this, nodded wearily at the officer and left.

As he walked, he felt a bit chilly, so he put up his hood and strode quickly, his head down, his hands in his pockets. He wanted nothing more than to get home and have a long, long shower. Kale longed to erase the memories of what happened tonight – from the ordeal that he went through in his house, to the terrifying torment of seeing and being in contact with Turner's decomposing victims.

Reaching his usual shortcut, he looked ahead as he walked down the alleyway. Without warning, someone came from behind him and clamped their hands over his mouth to muffle his scream.

Since Kale's reflexes were faster after what he had just gone through, he immediately tried to back-kick his assailant. Although unexpected, his captor recovered from the shock quickly, and punched him so hard in the head that he was knocked out.

Kale's head throbbed painfully. He could sense bright lights were on from beneath his closed eyelids. Unwisely, he opened them, only to shut them again, groaning. He attempted to lift his head. But it was too sore. He could feel a large lump forming, and he tried to raise a hand to feel it. It wasn't possible.

He realised that his hands were tied together with duct tape. As were his feet. He tried to speak, and felt a gag in his mouth. Kale felt the brightness of the light dim a bit. He tentatively opened his eyes again. Where am I? he thought, taking in his surroundings. He was in a cavernous, dirty room with no furniture. Suddenly, a man came into his limited line of vision. Somehow, he looked eerily familiar.

Then, it hit him. But…he's dead! Kale thought. What's Turner doing here? The man leaned forward and said, in a horrible rasp, "Kale, is it?"

Kale didn't try to speak, but simply lay there, staring resolutely at the man. He bore a striking resemblance to Robert Turner from a distance, but, close up, he found that this man's features were somewhat rougher, almost wild.

"I'm Robert's brother," the man said, answering Kale's unasked question. "I'm Nathan Turner." Kale spluttered as the gag went further into the back of his mouth, almost strangling him in the process. Nathan Turner just grinned evilly. "Tell me, Kale, have you gone to visit Daddy lately? What would he think if he saw you like this?" Nathan Turner's comment ignited silent sparks of fury in Kale. But he couldn't do anything. If it wasn't for his restraints, he would have pummelled the man in front of him as badly as his Spanish teacher, Senor Gutierrez. With a pang, he remembered that Gutierrez's cousin had also died tonight.

Nathan Turner read his thoughts. "Thinking of your friend Gutierrez? He had it coming to him." Then, as abruptly as he came in, he exited the room again, leaving Kale to ponder in silence.

What a bastard, Kale thought. He racked his brain, trying to think of why he was there, with Robert Turner's brother. Then it clicked, just as he heard a shriek, so sudden and foreboding after the sinister silence.

Kale tried to sit up, but he still felt weak. His muscles screamed as he attempted, for the third time, to get out of his uncomfortable position. He finally succeeded, despite being in immense pain. His head spinning, he tried to stay still. Once he was sure that nothing was moving, he opened his eyes.

He found his mother and Ashley, bound with duct tape and gagged, just like him. Nathan Turner was standing next to them, a sharp knife in his hand. Ashley started fidgeting, making a futile attempt to speak. Nathan Turner stroked his knife, putting it extremely close to Ashley's throat.

"Now you don't want anything happening to your pretty neck, do you?" Nathan Turner hissed.

She flashed him a look of the deepest loathing as he touched her hair.

He leaned towards Kale, and for a moment, Kale was scared that he was going to do something to him, but he simply gestured to him to open his mouth so he could take the gag out.

The moment he did so he spluttered and said, "You! You killed Dad!"

"It took you a while to figure that one out, wise-guy," smirked Nathan Turner. "And now…I'm gonna kill you as well."