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PREVIEW: Jack in the Box

September 13, 2018

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Party Time! Part Three

Friday, September 15, 2017

The girls screamed in terror as they buried their faces into their respective boyfriend’s arms (as Trevor hoped), the slasher flick on the television finally hitting the high points as the murderer ran through the house, a cleaver in each hand as he lunged and leapt like a wolf after a wounded doe. Hope was shaking in pure fear as she cuddled against Chris’s bicep, peeking with one eye she would reflexively shut every time the killer appeared on the screen.

 

Ashley wasn’t faring much better, with her arms wrapped tightly around Trevor’s body, her frame shaking from the terrifying one-liners the killer was letting off as he kept up his chase.

 

“No!” Brandon said, choking back a foul cloud of smoke, a smoldering joint hanging from his hand. “Dude, don’t go in there!”

 

The bouncy redhead in the movie ignored Brandon’s plea, opening the door to find the kitchen drenched in an obscene amount of dripping red blood, the severed parts of her boyfriend scattered about the kitchen with large bite marks taken out of the meatier slabs. The redhead screamed, looking behind her just in time as he swung his cleaver at her, missing her by a hair as she ran into the kitchen, hopping over a nasty pool of stagnant blood.

 

“Anyone want another beer?” Trevor asked, testing the waters of how Ashley would act without someone to clutch to. They’d moved the beers into a rather large kitchen, stocked with little if anything save for a few dozen red plastic packs of frozen Kool-aid. They quickly shoved their pack of beer into the freezer, happily enjoying the chilled beers as they passed the fat packed joint, laughing and screaming at the serial killer marathon they were now two movies into.

 

“No!” Ashley said a little too quickly, squeezing his ribs a little too roughly as she clutched at his side. “Someone else can get a beer, not right now-Ahhh!!!”

 

Her heartfelt plea ended with a scream as the killer ended the life of another hapless teen at the end of his hefty meat cleaver, hacking into his shoulder repeatedly as the man valiantly struggled against the killers iron grip. The broken pool stick, previously broken over the killers back by said hapless teen, fell limply from his hand as the last vestiges of life left his eyes, the killer hacking to remove the arm connected to the shoulder with a violent yank, a sick sucking noise wrenching through the air as he pulled the arm free.

 

Ashley screamed, burying her face in Trevor’s chest as the screen became awash with a spattering of red gore. Hope was doing the same, squealing tearfully as she did her best to crawl into Chris’s lap, all while Chris was taking a long drag from the joint passed up from Brandon.

 

Trevor shushes Ashley’s screams, petting back her golden locks and murmuring that it was just a movie. As the credits begin to roll, Brandon rolls from his perch on the floor, pulling on the light cord to a lamp, casting a dim glow about the room. All of them blinked blearily as Brandon moved to his folder of DVD’s, sliding out the sequel to the one they’d just watched, knocking over a few empty beer cans that were set on the floor.

 

“If the offer still stands I could use a beer man,” Brandon says from the floor as he crwls towards his miniature DVD player.

 

“Sure thing? You guys want one? Ashley?” Trevor asks, looking at the blonde so deliciously close to him, their faces mere inches apart.

 

“N-no, I still have half a can left.” She said, her eyes puffy and red from all her wailing and crying.

 

Trevor smiled and rubbed her shoulders briefly before getting up from the plush couch and moving towards the kitchen, passing the bar that granted the kitchen a great view of the living room. As he entered the room, he caught a whiff of something… salty? And hot, like someone had been cooking. Looking around the room, the only thing out of place was a drawer half closed near the oven. Walking over to push it closed, he moved back as he felt a lingering heat radiating from one of the burners.

 

A creaking of boards above head causing him to look up, wincing as a good deal of dust crumbled down from the old house. “Huh…?” Trevor said aloud, moving to the freezer to snag a few beers for his friends.

 

Only to find the freezer empty, save for the frozen stacks of plastic bags.

 

Confused, he looked around the room before opening up the fridge, smiling as he found the remains of the twenty four pack sitting on the top shelf, along with an orange bowl with a thin covering of saran wrap, a thick soupy batch of cheese dip sitting on the shelf beneath the beers.

 

A rustle behind him caused him to spin, only to find a bag of tortilla chips sitting on the counter which had been bare before. Looking around wildly for any sign of his friends having moved anything, he let out a long sigh as he tried to slow his racing heart.

 

“Probably here earlier and we just hadn’t noticed… we’d already smoked a lot before we got here, might’ve just missed them.” Trevor calmly said to himself, grabbing the bag of chips from the counter as well as the bowl of cheese dip, three beers tucking against his chest by his forearm as he carefully walked back to the group, watching as Brandon ticked through the DVD selection screen of the next film, a sinister chanting of children echoing in the background.

 

“Hey! Munchies, you the man!” Chris said, getting up off the couch to help unload Trevor’s arms of his bounty of food and drink. Hope snagged a beer from Chris’s hand, popping the top, while Brandon and Chris tore into the bag of chips, greedily feasting from the cheese dip.

 

Trevor merely dropped down onto the couch, stealthily moving his arm around Ashley’s waist, smiling as she snuggled against him, sipping from her beer slowly.

 

As the second movie began to start, Trevor became distracted by Ashley’s warmth, the relaxing buzz from his beer and weed and the eerie opening to the movie, quickly forgetting about the strange noises in the kitchen, along with the sudden appearance of the food.  

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