A/N: There's a note at the end concerning the other chapters of this fic. Those of you interested in seeing this through, please read it.
The bathroom light stings his eyes a bit. He had just gotten his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the sleeping house. He blinks and his eyes adjust enough that he can navigate the narrow space without bumping against the sink or falling into the bathtub.
The necessary first-aid supplies have been moved to the front of the medicine cabinet for his convenience, a small detail that he is grateful for. He splashes some bactine on the deep scratch on his arm. Damn woman had harpy nails and clawed him up something awful. The disinfectant stings harshly and he curses under his breath, not wanting to alert the inhabitants to his presence. Not that it isn't normal at this point.
He hears the padding of soft footsteps coming up the hall and locks the door. Squee's parents had given him very little cause for alarm, but the last thing he needed was a confrontation with a man he'd nearly blinded only a few months ago. His day was rough enough. The steps padded past him, and, when he heard a door open and close up the hall, he unlocked the door and stepped out.
The house wasn't sleeping anymore.
There was a stillness. An unnatural quiet around him. At first he thought the pungent bite of blood and death hanging in the air was just his clothing. Then he remembers he'd changed out of his bloody clothes before he came here. He ponders a bit as he retraces his steps down the hall to the top of the stairs.
He hears screaming and commotion up the hall. A shuffling of footsteps, Squee desperately pleading for his parents to help him, and they either won't listen or don't…
They're already dead.
The realization hits him as hard as he slams into the bedroom door. Feeling heroic, he knocks it open with a single solid kick and is met with the back of the attacker, and the full volume of the boy's screams of terror. He pulls a knife from his belt loop and plunges it into the man's back, but he's made too much noise already, and the assailant turns in time to only get a deep gash in the arm instead of a stab wound to the back.
The man turns around fully, bringing a hand up to stop the bleeding in his arm. Wild, bright eyes lock on to the cause of the wound. He makes a disgusting noise as he speaks, "Johnny?"
Suddenly Nny isn't feeling very heroic anymore.
Note. Due to recent goings on on this website I will be posting a "lite" version of this story here and uncut versions to my DA and my tumblr. (squirrellythief on both) The lite version will have the same overall plotline, but will have the violence, language, and overall CREEP factor toned down a bit, and will not be as good as the uncut version, imo.
Regardless I'll be updating weekly and I hope you guys enjoy it and leave your thoughts and comments here or the other hosts that have this.