They tiptoed through the dining room and continued toward the kitchen. Josh thought about taking off his shoes to lessen the clatter, but he figured it wouldn’t do much. Besides, he might need to run. Fast. Outside.
The kitchen became visible and Josh noticed something on the floor. Red droplets. A trail of them. Leading to the kitchen. Josh followed the trail with his eyes, spotting a big red puddle in the middle of the floor. He placed his hand on Paul’s shoulder.
“I know,” Paul whispered. “I see it.”
They both peered into the doorway. They couldn’t see right or left, their vision blocked by walls on both sides.
“I can’t see anything,” Josh said.
Paul inched closer and peered into the kitchen, sticking his head into the doorway. He was careful not to give away his position to anyone who might be waiting for them inside. What he saw was limited, but useful. Another trail led away from the puddle. He followed it, but the door frame blocked wherever it led to. He glanced up, saw a row of cabinets on the far wall. An island lay in the middle of the kitchen. Papers, mail, and a telephone sat on the counter haphazardly.
Out of the corner of his eye, Paul saw something move.
It was a dark figure. Tall. It disappeared into the shadows of the unlit room.
Paul turned to Josh. He nodded, signaling it was time to go in.
Josh nodded back in agreement.
Quickly, they entered the kitchen. Paul had his rifle drawn, ready to fire on anything or anyone he considered a threat.
What the two of them saw made their mouths drop.
The trail of blood led to a headless corpse, which lay on the floor in front of them. Blood leaked onto the tile floor from where the woman’s head used to be. The body was clad in a purple sun dress, yellow sunflowers printed on it.
Josh averted his eyes. Momma Barker’s head had been placed on the island intentionally. Josh saw Bobbi-Jo had been strapped to the kitchen table. She was naked, her mouth covered with duct tape. Two long streaks of black mascara ran down her cheeks. She squirmed, but it was useless. Someone knew what they were doing when it came to tying knots. Bobbi-Jo saw Josh and Paul enter the room and screamed.
“Oh…” a familiar voice uttered from where they had entered the room. Josh and Paul spun around. Paul raised his rifle at the murderer’s face. “Good to see you again…”
“You…” Josh felt sick. The psycho’s body was drenched in gore from head to toe. Blood splatter hid most of his face like a Halloween mask. Naked, he wore the old woman’s blood like a scarlet suit. The sick bastard smiled, his teeth perfectly aligned and unstained. His cold, soulless eyes locked onto Josh’s. Making eye-contact with him turned his stomach.
“So glad you could join the party,” Jason said.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ben kicked in the screen door, making his presence known. Not exactly the wisest of plans, but he figured he could draw the two remaining Barkers to the rear of the house, allowing Paul and Josh to reach the basement without being harassed. The plan made sense, at least in theory. Ben assumed there were would be complications, just as there had been every step of the way.
His brain focused on Jake, seeing his face again in his mind’s eye.
Ben quickly glanced to the left, then to the right, his makeshift club in hand, ready to swing for the fences. He saw nothing in front of him except for an old washer and dryer that had once been white, but yellowed over the years due to prolonged nicotine exposure and poor maintenance. He moved into the laundry room, waving Victoria in.
Victoria followed Ben through the living room. Ben expected one of the Barker women to jump out of the closet or from behind the couch with a kitchen knife in their hand, ready to slash them to bits.
Ben sidestepped through the room, checking behind the couch, furniture, and any nook and cranny the room had to offer. When he was satisfied that the room was clear, he waved Victoria on once again.
A voice spoke from the neighboring room.
“So glad you could join the party,” someone said. Ben and Victoria exchanged looks. The voice was vaguely familiar, but they couldn’t place it.
Suddenly, it hit Ben. His eyes exploded with recognition. Victoria frowned. Then it hit her as well. Her eyebrows arched, her lips slowly parting.
It was that mouthy little punk Ross fought earlier. Wasn’t he dead? Ben thought. Then he realized they never actually saw him meet his demise. Only heard it. Or thought they had.
They heard another voice utter “Holy shit.” That was Paul.
Another asked Jason what he had done. That was Josh.
Both voices harnessed a fearful tone.
Ben carefully approached the doorway, holding Victoria’s hand, guiding her.
“I think we should slowly make an appearance,” Victoria suggested calmly. “What do you say?”
Ben let go of her hand. He rummaged through his pocket, producing a key. He placed it in her hand.
“What is this?” she asked.
“The key to the truck. Run to the basement, grab your girls and meet us out front.”
“Are you sure?”
“Don’t waste any more time.”
She pocketed the key, kissed Ben on the cheek, and rushed back the way they came.
Once she had disappeared into the hallway, Ben crept toward the doorway.
Jason picked the head off the island’s counter and started eating the sinew and bloody strands of tissue that dripped from the bottom of Momma Barker’s head. He chewed the dangling muscle as if it were cherry licorice, laughing while swallowing. With his other hand, he was fondling his semi-erect penis. As he consumed the dead woman’s gore, he peered at Josh and Paul, a childish grin spreading across his face.
“Ah…” Jason said. “Delicious.” He faced the table where Bobbi-Jo was fastened by blood-stained rope. He ran his fingers up her leg until he reached her vagina, then stopped. He massaged it gently. She whimpered softly through the rolled pair of socks taped in her mouth. “The things I’m going to do to you,” he happily boasted.
“Turn around you… f-fucking w-weirdo,” Paul stammered, pointing the gun at the young man.
Jason stopped fingering Bobbi-Jo and faced them. “Ouch. I’m insulted,” he said sarcastically. “I’m afraid I’ve been called worse things. In my hometown, which happens to be a quaint little place outside of Atlanta, I’m called ‘The Ripper.’ After Jack, of course. I mostly stick to prostitutes—they disgust me—but, I’ll make a few exceptions here and there.” He planted Momma Barker’s head on the island. “These bitches underestimated me. They always do. They see a wimpy guy with glasses and a sharp mouth, and they think deep down I’m harmless. Well… I taught them, didn’t I?”
They didn’t answer the rhetorical question.
“Didn’t I?” he asked more firmly.
“Yes,” Josh said. “You sure did.” He felt like was going to be sick again. He wasn’t sure if the drugs or the smell of blood was responsible for his nauseas.
“That’s right. I did,” Jason said. He patted the top of the old woman’s head as if it were a good dog.