Asylum Lake by R. A. Evans Read Free Book Online Page B

curtain had been torn aside and hung clumsily by the three remaining rings that still encircled the pristine rod. The one part of the bathroom that remained untouched by the gore around it.
    He stared into the red soup of bones and chunks as they floated on the surface of the nearly overfilled tub. Others pieces rested at the bottom and clung to the sides of the tub; he fought the urge to reach in and stir them around with his hand. Instead, he raised his eyes to look at the shower wall. A single lonely word, written in blood, glistened on the white tile…

    The sound of heavy footsteps approaching from down the hall roused him from admiring his handiwork. Lionel’s knees wobbled and his thoughts became fuzzy as a wave of dizziness washed over him. He closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples in an attempt to ease the feeling. When he opened them and caught sight of the grotesque display that surrounded him, a mixture of bile and recently eaten cookies rose in his throat. It burned as he swallowed it down.
    “What the…Oh, Lord no!” A pained cry came from the next room.
    His heart began to pound so heavily he thought for sure it would beat right through his chest. The room was spinning now as fear swept through him. He felt the earth shift beneath his feet and thought for sure he would faint. Just as he was ready to give in and let go the voice inside his head began to scream. “Kill him! Kill him now!”
    His arm shot forward involuntarily and grabbed the broken hedge-clipper shear from where it lay on the floor. As he caught sight of the bracelet on his wrist his racing heart slowed. He took in a single deep breath and blew it out releasing it in a slow and soft hiss. A quiet calm settled upon him.
    The sound of more footsteps, this time retreating quickly towards the living room, urged him forward. He stepped into the hallway and silently made his way towards the twin’s room. Anger rushed through him as he looked at their once perfectly posed bodies now lying disturbed on the floor. Their butterfly wings had been trampled by large booted feet.
    He followed the fresh tracks from the room. He could hear movement ahead and emerged to see Mr. Reed standing at a small desk in the living room with one hand pressing the phone to his ear as the other frantically tried to turn the rotary dial. His blue work overalls were stretched across his large frame and his dark brown boots creaked as he shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot. Below the soles of his sneakers, red patterned designs etched themselves deeply into the carpet.
    The dull shear bit into the palm of Lionel’s tiny hand as his grip tightened around it.
    “P-p-pl-ease…something has happened,” he cried into the phone. “They’re dead…my babies…they’re dead.” And then the revelation that he hadn’t seen his wife lying with the kids dawned on him. He dropped the phone and quickly turned; ready to run back into the bloodied mess he had just retreated from. Lionel struck quickly and brought the rusty shear up and across the much taller man’s throat with one quick and surprisingly powerful stroke. The dull blade tore into his neck as he cried out for his wife. Her name rose in a gurgling spray of blood that spread across the room and onto the bookshelves and wall. It ran down the screen and across the top of the large console television that sat nearby. Reed fell to the floor at Lionel’s feet where he lay twitching…and finally, dying.
    Lionel dropped the blade and casually stepped over the body. He reached down and pulled the knob on the television and then turned the dial until the theme song from Gilligan’s Island began to waft from the set. He walked to the sofa and plopped down on the edge of a freshly blood spattered cushion. Beneath a thick coating of blood that now included both the dried and fresh varieties, an impish grin played across his delicate features. His eyes remained frozen on the gore covered television screen as he