HAPPY HALLOWEEN, FOLKS! This is just a short(ish) story that I've been planning for a little while and figureed Halloween was the perfect time to upload it! So please let me know what you think, all reviews are welcome :D and thank you so much for reading :D
Also, for those of you who read The Dating Game, I will still be writing and publishing it alongside this story.
"Well, Chad, it's becoming common knowledge that the brain is never actually working to full capacity. It is believed that humans only ever use around ten per cent of their brain potential. We believe that this man, Dr. Ziddim, was carrying out experiments that were designed to release the full brain potential."
Santana sat on the couch, her legs crossed in front of her as she carefully braided the long blonde strands in her fingers, while Brittany was curled up on the floor in front of her, her eyes glued to her phone. The droning voice of the man on the news could barely be heard over the sound of Quinn humming to herself as she laid on her stomach in front of the open fireplace, her nose stuck in a worn paperback with yellowing pages and curling corners. Santana smiled to herself as she recognised the girl's tune as Sea of Love by Cat Power.
"What's the plan for today?" Quinn asked absent-mindedly, her eyes still skimming across the page.
"What do you wanna do, honey?" Santana smiled, glancing up at the blonde as she rolled over onto her back, placing the open book face-down on her sternum. Quinn shrugged, while Brittany sighed.
"Sup, Britts?" Quinn raised her eyebrows sympathetically as Brittany was frowning down at her phone.
"I keep seeing all this Patient 429 stuff and it's freaking me out." The girl replied, meeting Quinn's gaze and chewing her lip nervously.
Santana snorted, rolling her eyes, "Don't pay attention to all that stuff, B. It's just the media blowing everything out of proportion, as always."
"But that's the point!" Brittany argued vehemently, "It's not the media! The media are saying that Patient 429 is just an escaped mental patient but that he's harmless and there's no cause to worry. But I saw something Sam re-posted the other day, and it was saying that actually it's not an escaped mental patient at all. This…Patient 429 has gone insane but he's not a mental patient."
"So who is he then, Britts?" Quinn asked wryly, her eyebrow quirked.
"This Dr Ziddim on the news; he was doing tests on animals to see if he could release their full brain potential." Santana wrapped a bobble around the girl's braid, and Brittany sat forward animatedly as soon as she was released, "If he'd succeeded it would mean that humans could be smarter and faster and stronger-"
"Calm down, Kanye." Santana interjected playfully.
"And when they were testing them on animals everything seemed fine, and the experiments seemed to work, but when they started testing on humans they've realised that there's something wrong with the…stuff they're injecting them with." The other girls still looked doubtful, and Brittany shook her head, frustrated, "Ugh, it made so much sense on that thing Sam reposted." She sighed heavily, "It's like, your brain can be so much smarter than it is, and they were using these…" she clicked her fingers as she remembered, "toxins to release that, but now that they're testing on humans, people are reacting badly. Because your brain also has the capacity to, like, bite through fingers as if they were carrots and stuff, but you know not to because like…well, why would you? But this post said that this toxin they've given the test subjects alters the…alters the, oh God I can't remember." She frowned down at the carpet, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips.
Santana glanced to Quinn, who gazed back at her with a worried grimace. The brunette blew her girlfriend a quick kiss, and Quinn's expression cleared momentarily until Brittany exclaimed,
"Chemical reactions! The toxin alters the chemical reactions in the brain, so they don't know not to bite fingers off and stuff like that!" She slapped her hand against the floor triumphantly, "So they were trying to make people smarter and stuff, but actually its gone wrong and its made people, like, super vicious. Like people don't know to not do bad things."
"But, Britts, you know not to believe anything you read on the internet." Santana shrugged, sliding off the couch to sit beside Brittany, rubbing her knee reassuringly.
Quinn nodded, "Yeah, and there's conspiracy theories about everything these days."
"Did you know that there's people who think that the English royal family are secretly, like, alien people?" The blondes turned to look at her, frowning, "No, I'm serious! It's a thing. They think that they're aliens who look like lizards and they wear human suits and their human eyes blink normally but their alien eyes secretly blink the wrong way. True story."
"Well aren't you the conspiracy expert?" Quinn teased, and Santana glared at her playfully.
"Um, aren't you the one that made us watch a three-hour documentary on the Bermuda Triangle?"
Brittany nodded, "That is true."
"Whatever, I'm just trying to educate you." The blonde spat, pushing herself to her feet and stretching out, "Anyway, I think it's time I put some real clothes on."
"I wish you wouldn't." Santana grinned, and Brittany's face scrunched up into a grimace as she rubbed her stomach.
"Oh, look. There's my bacon sandwich." She observed casually, "Do you really have to, guys?"
Quinn's jaw dropped, and she held her hands up defensively, "I had no part in that! Anyway, I am going to go get dressed. Maybe you two should do the same."
"I can't be bothered getting up yet." Santana groaned loudly, reaching up to the arm of the sofa for the TV remote. She flicked through the channels until she reached the cartoons, and within a few minutes Brittany was blissfully glued to the screen.
Santana was still sat beside the blonde, watching the TV with her eyebrows raised quizzically, when Quinn returned downstairs. "Ugh, you still haven't moved!" She chastised them, crossing to pick up her book and fold over the corner of her page.
"Sorry." The girls replied in a unified monotone.
"No you're not." She rolled her eyes and placed her book on the end table beside the couch, "Now come on, go get dressed and we can decide what we're gonna do! Go!" She positioned herself in front of the TV and ushered the other two upstairs. Brittany took a deep breath before pushing herself up and sprinting up the stairs, while Santana groaned and demanded Quinn pull her into a standing position and give her a long kiss before she eventually dragged herself upstairs.
She crossed the landing to the room she had been sharing with Quinn, and pulled open the dresser drawers. She reminded herself again that she would be able to fall asleep next to her girlfriend again that night. They were never allowed to sleep over at Quinn's and never had been. When the three of them had been growing up they had shared many nights in sleeping bags in Brittany's living room, or camping in a tent in Santana's back yard, but Quinn's house had always been off limits. And now that Santana's parents knew of her secret relationship with Quinn, they always made sure that if anyone had to share a bed, it would be with Brittany. It was also why the girls were no longer allowed to stay over at Brittany's house. Santana's parents were accepting of the girls, but that didn't mean they were going to let them run riot, and Mrs Lopez was fully aware of how much more easy-going the Pierces were.
The cabin was a welcome break from all that. Santana and Quinn had promised there would be no funny business, and Brittany had promised that she wouldn't let the girls share a room. The Fabrays, of course, knew absolutely nothing about any of it. Above all, Mr and Mrs Lopez wanted their daughter to be happy, and as far as they were concerned, letting Quinn's harsh, bigoted parents ruin their entire relationship was not the way to achieve that.
She stared down at the various items of clothing she had brought along with them, attempting to decide on an outfit, when Brittany screamed from the next room.
"Santana! Quinn! Come here, get here now!" Her voice sounded shrill, and Santana immediately sprinted out of the room, her socks sliding on the wooden floor as she dashed to Brittany's single room. Quinn was already bounding up the stairs, bursting into the bedroom a couple of seconds later.
The blonde was stood at the window, staring out open-mouthed. Santana frowned, joining her quickly and attempting to see whatever the girl was staring at. Brittany suddenly whirled round to Quinn, "We locked the doors last night, right?"
The blonde nodded, stunned, and stepped forward to join the girls at the window, "Yeah, why?"
"And nobody's unlocked them this morning?" She demanded, glaring from Santana to Quinn. Both girls shook their heads. A feeling of unease was creeping over the brunette, who turned back to the window to peer outside.
"Brittany what's wrong? What's the matter?"
"Look." The blonde swallowed, stepping back so that Quinn could get a better view, and pointed to the edge of the trees, "See right there?"
"See what?" Quinn frowned, narrowing her eyes as she looked out into the morning, "Are you okay?"
"Yes. Look. The edge of the trees. Right there." She stretched her arm between the girls, who both leaned in until their heads were almost touching as they attempted to follow Brittany's line of sight.
"I don't see anything." Santana sighed, rolling her eyes and turning to move away, but as she did so, Quinn gasped. Brittany grabbed the brunette's shoulders, forcibly turning her back to the window.
"Oh my God, what is that?" Quinn asked, her words running in to one as her heart began pounding against her chest.
"I don't know!" Brittany answered in a panic, gesticulating wildly.
Santana slapped a hand against the window sill, "What is what? Are you two just messing around? Because I don't see anythi-"
Her blood ran cold. A movement by the edge of the trees caught her attention and she watched, transfixed. The three girls stood crowded around the window, staring out at the edge of the forest where the trees were sparser. Brittany's throat was contracting, and she felt like she might be sick. Santana watched the spot where she had seen movement, attempting to make out shapes in the near darkness. Then she saw it. Her. A woman, crouched over something on the forest floor.
"What is that?" She whispered. Their breath was beginning to cloud the window where they were all leaning forward for a better view.
"I don't know, I can't tell properly." Quinn replied in a low voice. Brittany frowned, reaching out to wipe the window with her sleeve. As she pulled back, she gasped.
"What happened?" She said quickly, craning her neck to look around.
"Where'd she go?" Santana murmured, "Do you think she's okay?"
Quinn suddenly pulled back, clasping her hands to her mouth, "Oh my god!"
"What?"
"What is it?"
"Look there! Where she was sitting!" Quinn pointed, rubbing at the window again, and Santana turned her attention back to the forest floor. There was a body, laid stretched out and covered in blood.
"Come on, we have to go see if they're alright!" Brittany stepped back from the window, crossing to her wardrobe and pulling out a pair of loose jeans and a tshirt.
"What?" Santana's jaw dropped, "Are you insane? There's a crazy person out there!"
Quinn nodded, "You saw, she was leaning over that person and that person is clearly not alright!" she pointed to the window as Brittany began stripping quickly, not bothering to change her underwear from the night before, "What if she's a murderer or something?"
"And what if that person's alive and needs our help?" Brittany countered firmly, grabbing her hoody from the bed and wrestling it over her head. Santana sighed, shaking her head disbelievingly before jogging through to her own bedroom and grabbing some clothes. She pulled them on quickly and stuffed her feet into her shoes, heading back to the blonde's bedroom.
"Have you seen anything?" She asked breathlessly as she joined Brittany at the window, "Where's Quinn?"
"She went to get her sneakers from downstairs."
"On her own?" Santana practically shouted, before sprinting from the room and down the stairs. Quinn was stood on one foot in the living room, pulling on her sneakers. "Oh my God." Santana breathed a sigh of relief.
"Are you okay?" Quinn smirked, "Were you coming to my rescue in case I'd been mauled by a psychopath."
"You shouldn't joke." The brunette quirked an eyebrow, giving the blonde a warning glance as Brittany jogged down the stairs behind her, "Anyway, are we going to go face the murderer or what?"
"Stop it." Brittany chastised, "This is all freaking me out."
Quinn smiled apologetically, "Sorry, B."
Brittany sighed, "But we have to go check they're okay. Come on, you guys."
"We're dressed, aren't we?" Santana shrugged, "But also, if there is some crazy person out there I'm not taking my chances." She told them, wandering off in the direction of the kitchen.
"What do you mean?" Quinn called after her, and the two blondes followed behind curiously. As they caught up with Santana, who had her head buried in a cupboard, they realised what she meant.
A baseball bat was leaning against one of the kitchen counters, and Santana was rummaging around. "Here we go!" She announced as she straightened up, carrying a crowbar, "So what do you fancy?"
"This is insane." Quinn shook her head.
"No it isn't." Brittany reached for the crowbar in Santana's hand, "I may want to help that person, but that doesn't mean whoever that woman was won't try to get us, too."
Quinn looked from Brittany to Santana, who gave her a hopeless smile and shrugged, picking up the bat and holding it out to her. The blonde rolled her eyes, sighed and snatched the bat from her girlfriend's outstretched hand. Santana nodded triumphantly, and pulled a carving knife from the knife block on the counter. Quinn's eyebrows shot upwards as Brittany's jaw dropped.
"Are you serious?" The smaller girl asked incredulously, and Santana grimaced nervously, "What are you going to do?"
"I'm not going to use it!" She defended, "I won't have to; it's just as a threat, just in case. Would you rather I died?"
Quinn sighed, "Come on, we're wasting time." She turned on her heel and strode towards the back door, the other two girls following behind.
"Okay, wait." Brittany held up a hand, pulling on the string of the blind to peek under it. "Okay, looks clear." She whispered, and Quinn turned the key in the lock.
"Ooh! Remember how they do it in movies!" Santana hissed. "Quinn, open the door, I'll look out and go first, then we go one by one. Quinn come out last." The girls nodded, and Santana stood by the handle as Quinn pulled the door open. Santana nodded and slipped through the gap, her back pressed against the outer wall as Brittany emerged behind her, following suit.
Quinn brought up the rear, pulling the keys out of the door and creeping out of the house, shutting the door quietly behind her. Santana made sure to glance around the corner of the house before nodding and moving quickly round the corner, while Quinn was consistently checking over her shoulder. Brittany was attempting to peer out into the woods, hoping to catch sight of the woman before she could catch sight of them.
"There they are!" Santana whispered as she saw the body laid out near the edge of the forest.
"I can't see her anywhere." Quinn answered in a low voice, and Brittany shook her head.
"Neither can I. Do you think she ran away from the woods?"
Quinn frowned, "She couldn't have. She disappeared while you were wiping the window, we'd have seen her running through the open. She must be in there." She nodded to the trees, and Santana nodded slowly.
"Okay. Let's go…see if they're alright." She nodded her head in the direction of the body, and Brittany took a deep breath, before nodding firmly and stepping in front of Santana to lead the way.
Quinn continued looking over her shoulder, just in case, while Santana was scanning from side to side in case the woman appeared out of the forest further up. As they neared the trees, Brittany held the crowbar higher, and Quinn swung the baseball bat over her shoulder in preparation. Santana swallowed. Her hand felt sweaty on the handle of the knife, and she seriously hoped she wouldn't have to even threaten to use it. Though with the three of them in a group, she doubted she would have to.
They slowed slightly as they approached the body laid on the ground. Most of the body was hidden by the large trunk of a tree, and they grouped together to inch forwards. Brittany peered around the tree, and gasped.
It was a man, laid on the ground with his limbs outstretched. His face and body were almost completely covered in blood, and Brittany felt herself gagging as she took in the sight. She stepped back again, her face white as a sheet, shaking her head "He's dead."
"What? Are you sure?" Quinn asked.
"Look at his body, Quinn! He is dead." Brittany shot back immediately, and Santana leaned around the tree. The man's entire torso was ripped open, his organs and flesh laid in tatters. Santana immediately pulled back, regretting her decision to look in the first place as she felt her breakfast rising in her throat. She staggered away a few steps, leaning against a tree and crouching over as her stomach emptied itself all over the ground. Quinn followed behind, making the brunette start as she stroked her back and scooped her hair back.
"Wow. Who knew there was a sight to turn Santana's stomach?" The blonde joked, but Brittany grimaced, shaking her head slowly.
As Brittany watched on sympathetically, a groaning noise drifted across from behind the tree. Unaware, Santana continued to brace herself, the rough bark feeling grounding under her fingertips, but Quinn whirled round to look at Brittany, her jaw dropping with horror. She glanced back at the brunette, stroking her back once more as she mouthed to Brittany, "He's alive?"
The tall blonde looked like she wanted to cry, she shook her head slowly and shrugged her shoulders, before flattening her back against the trunk of the tree. She took a deep breath, steeling her nerves, and peeked around the tree at the man once more. She moved slowly, making sure to stop moving once she could see the man's face, but not his body. The skin of his face was darkening, and his expression was docile. His eyelids were twitching slightly, but she could only see the bloodshot whites of his eyes.
"Quinn!" She hissed, and the blonde turned, raising her eyebrows. Santana had now straightened up, and was leaning her back against the tree, taking deep breaths. "Come look at him." She jerked her head in the direction of the man, and Quinn's eyes grew wide, her expression aghast.
"What?" She grimaced, turning to look pointedly at Santana, "Seriously?"
"Just look at his face, it's not that bad!" Brittany pleaded, jerking her head once more. Quinn sighed, rolling her eyes but stepping forward regardless.
She inched forward until she could see the man's face, and frowned. The blackening of his skin made her narrow her eyes suspiciously; she had seen that sort of discolouring before. Her mother had been bitten on vacation once, and the wound had become infected. The area around it had darkened as blood poisoning spread through her leg. Thankfully, her mother had received anti-biotics and it was cleared within a few weeks. Quinn suspected that anti-biotics would not have the desired effect in this situation.
"That looks like blood poisoning." She told Brittany, "See how his skin is darkening?"
The tall blonde nodded as Santana stepped forward, "What's the matter?" She tilted her head to peer around Quinn, who held out an arm to stop her.
"Is that a good idea?" She quirked an eyebrow, but Santana took a deep breath before nodding firmly.
She glanced around, taking in the sight of the man's face before stepping back again.
"We need to call 911." Brittany decided, "Come on, we'll go back to the house. He's not…going anywhere." She grimaced awkwardly before turning away and beckoning to the others. Quinn nodded, following behind, while Santana hovered nervously for a moment. She glanced back to the tree, her vision of the poor man obscured, before looking back to the girls and following behind.
The blondes had broken into a jog, and Santana sighed heavily, taking deep breaths to recover from her brief sickness. Just as she was about to increase her speed and catch up to the girls, a firm grasp grabbed her ankle. She shrieked loudly. Quinn and Brittany whirled around as Santana overbalanced and fell to the floor, immediately joining in with Santana's shrill screaming. The man from behind the tree was laid on the floor, his hands clasping Santana's ankle as she turned over, kicking and flailing. The girls set off running back to the girl. Santana's other foot made contact with his face a number of times, but it did not deter him. He dug one hand into the ground, using it as a handhold to drag himself closer to the brunette as she scrambled around.
She found the handle of the knife, picking it up and jabbing it straight into his back. The man barely flinched.
"Holy shit, guys, he's like the terminator or something!" she screamed as the girls stumbled to reach her.
She wrenched the knife out of his back, only to plunge it back in as his grip tightened. Brittany and Quinn appeared beside her, and the latter immediately swung the bat down. There was a sickening crunch as it made contact with the middle of his back, and the man spasmed uncontrollably. He released his hold, and Brittany grabbed Santana, dragging her back across the floor and away from the crazed man. She helped her to her feet and the brunette stood staring down at the lifeless man on the ground. Quinn staggered back towards them, and the three girls stood panting, each staring down at the body in front of them.
"Are you okay?" Brittany's chest heaved as she rested her hands on her knees, bent double. Santana nodded as she straightened up, breathing hard.
"What the hell?" Quinn deadpanned, taking a step toward the bloody corpse.
"Be careful." Brittany warned, as the brunette winced uneasily.
The other blonde snorted, "With a knife in his back, a baseball bat to the spine and the fact that his organs are…you know…everywhere, I think we're good."
"Well don't be so sure." Santana answered darkly, "He was freakishly strong. And did you see him? I stabbed him and the back with a six inch blade and he didn't even say 'ooh that smarts.'" She mimicked sarcastically, and Brittany's nose scrunched up with disgust.
Quinn took another slow step forwards, extending her leg and giving the body a gentle nudge. It rocked from side to side a little, but the man did not stir. Her face was twisted with repulsion as she tried again, levering her toes under his shoulder and kicking hard until he rolled onto his back. The man's eyes were still half open, and Santana's grimace was almost comically as the girls peered down at him.
"What is wrong with him?" Quinn sneered, nudging him again.
The man groaned, and Brittany squeaked as the girls stepped back immediately, moving in unison. Quinn stumbled slightly, grabbing on to Santana's arm for support.
"What the fuck?" The brunette shook her head disbelievingly.
"This is insane." Quinn exclaimed, her eyebrows raised and mouth contorted with revulsion.
Brittany took a deep breath, and sighed heavily. Shaking her head impatiently, she took a decisive step forward and raised her arms above her head. She swung the crowbar down, throwing her weight behind it until the curved end split through the man's skull. Quinn grasped Santana's hand, her jaw dropping, their bodies tensed and stiff. After wrenching it out, Brittany repeated her action, lifting the bar and ramming it down over and over again. The smaller blonde looked horrified, and though Santana stood calmly, her eyes were wide with astonishment.
The blonde finally stopped, dropping the crowbar beside the body, her chest wracked with heavy breaths.
"Holy shit." Santana remarked, "We have been sorely underestimating Pierce."
Quinn sent her a warning glance before turning her gaze back to Brittany, "Uh…Britts, are you okay?" She asked hesitantly.
Brittany nodded, finally tearing her eyes away from the mangled body, and blew out sharply. She looked down at her hands, where sweat and blood had mingled together and formed a sticky residue on her palms. She wiped them thoroughly on her jeans, attempting to rid them of the dirty feeling that was making her skin itch. Using the backs of her hands, she brushed thin tendrils of hair off her sweaty forehead and turned back to the girls.
"You wanna know what this is?" She demanded, jabbing a finger towards the body, "This is Dr Ziddim, and Patient 429, and all the so-called bull-shit that I was telling you about!"
Santana shook her head, "It can't be, surely?"
"It is!" Brittany reiterated exasperatedly, "Look at him! It's everything I read about. He doesn't have brain control, he's super-strong but lacks common sense and understanding; he could bite through a finger like a carrot!"
"You are really taking that part seriously." Quinn mused, before glancing over her shoulder warily. She hadn't forgotten about the crouching woman.
The brunette sighed heavily, "But Brittany, you don't even know if that's true! It could be an internet hoax or something, and if it is we are in big trouble."
"Look at him, Santana!" The blonde shouted agitatedly, "Does he look like just another normal person? Does he look like just the victim of a crazy crime? No! No, he doesn't! Does he look like a harmless, innocent victim to you? Does he?"
"No." She admitted quietly, glancing nervously back at the bloodied body. "But what do we do now?"
"I'm calling 911." Quinn nodded decisively, "Let's go back to the house. But…watch your backs."
They stood for a second more, staring at each other in stunned silence, before Santana nodded. Brittany stooped to pick up the crowbar, wielding it dangerously once more, before the group made their way back towards the cabin.
Once they were all safely inside, and Quinn had turned the key in the lock, Santana released a long breath that she didn't realise she had been holding. She unzipped her blood-stained hoodie, pulling it off and using it to wipe her hands before throwing it next to the sink, where Brittany was washing her hands methodically, her face stricken. Quinn had abandoned her bat on the table and was pacing back and forth with the phone pressed to her ear, repeatedly swearing and pressing redial. The brunette took a seat at the small dining table, dropping her forehead down onto her crossed forearms.
"What's the matter?" Brittan frowned as Quinn swore once more and slammed the phone down onto the counter before slumping in a chair beside Santana.
"I can't get through." She replied exasperatedly, shaking her head.
Santana's muffled voice was barely audible, "What do you mean you can't get through?"
"There's no answer!" The blonde shrugged, "I don't get it. Every time I try it just cuts me off."
Brittany frowned, crossing to the counter and dialling the number once more, listening intently. She was also cut off, and she replaced the phone in its dock with a sigh, "What the hell is this?"
"I have no idea." Quinn shook her head as Santana sat upright again, rolling her eyes.
"Well, as fun as it's been so far, I'm still going to say that this is…hell on earth." She nodded matter-of-factly, and the blondes nodded their agreement.
"So…what do we do?" Quinn clicked her tongue awkwardly, and Brittany shrugged.
"I have no idea."
Santana sighed, "Jesus Christ."
"And what about that woman?" The tall blonde frowned, suddenly remembering the sudden disappearance.
"I don't know." Quinn grimaced worriedly, "Keep an eye out."
"Surely she'd have ran?" Santana suggested with a shrug, but Brittany snorted.
"She can't run! She doesn't know to run! She doesn't even realise she's done anything wrong! She no longer has common knowledge and a moral compass; she's just a shell of who she was, acting on nothing but instinct."
The other blonde flinched, "So it's like humans stripped back to being…wild?"
"Ferile!" Santana interjected triumphantly, with a helpful smile. Brittany nodded gratefully, pointing an outstretched index finger at the brunette and placing the other on her nose.
"Exactly! Thank you."
Quinn sighed, "So…we still have the tiny little issue of WHAT THE FUCK DO WE DO NOW?"
"Okay," Santana reached across the table to take the blonde's hand, looking from her to Brittany, "We keep our cool, first of all. Getting all…worked up, isn't going to get us anywhere." Quinn nodded, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself down. "There's this guy, like a neighbour, who lives up here permanently. I know his cabin isn't that far away, only a couple of miles or something. My dad has known him, for like…ever, so he'll help us out with all this…stuff." The brunette shrugged, raising her eyebrows and looking from one girl to the other.
Brittany took a deep breath, "Well, it's as good an idea as any."
"Can I change first?" Quinn frowned, "I feel dirty."
"Yeah, me too." Brittany nodded.
"Okay, let's go change." Santana agreed, pushing herself upright and taking Quinn's hand as she stood beside her. She held her pinky out to Brittany, who smiled and linked hers with it, and the three girls stepped forward out of the kitchen.
As they reached the bottom of the staircase, Santana frowned, releasing Brittany's hand to hold up her own, halting the three girls.
"What is i-" Quinn was cut off by the brunette's hand being clapped over her mouth, and her eyes grew with shock as Brittany frowned at the brunette.
"What are you doing?" She mouthed, and Santana glanced from one to the other before pointing toward the ceiling, and placing a finger to her lips.
The three stood in silence, rooted to the spot. Brittany stared at the light fixture, her breath coming out in ragged bursts as she listened intently. Santana's eyes were trained on Quinn's face, and her back felt hot and prickly as she waited for the creaking floorboard she was sure she had heard. Quinn barely dared to breathe, her girlfriend's hand still hovering near her mouth as her heart pumped loudly in her ears, almost drowning out the deafening silence. The noise came again. Santana's hand gripped Quinn's mouth again as the blonde gasped, while Brittany's eyebrows shot skyward, her gaze returning to Santana's panicked face.
"What should we do?" The brunette breathed.
Brittany shook her head, grimacing awkwardly, "Maybe we shouldn't change."
Quinn took hold of Santana's wrist, pulling the girl's hand from her mouth, "Should we go up there? Or just leave?"
"All our stuff is up there; is there anything we need?" Santana hissed, "I don't have my phone."
"I have mine." Brittany replied, "We have the bats and stuff downstairs?"
"Let's just go." Quinn decided as another creak echoed from the upper floor. She grabbed Santana by the upper arm, holding out her other hand for Brittany's, and dragged them in the direction of the kitchen, as quietly as they could manage.
As soon as the door swung shut behind them, Brittany grabbed the crowbar, and Quinn reached for the baseball bat. Santana stood in the centre of the room, swinging around in search of a replacement weapon.
"You guys! I don't have anything." She hissed, presenting her empty hands. The three gazed around, wrenching cupboards open in a hushed frenzy in search of anything that could be useful. Santana buried her head in the cupboard once again, rifling through various bags and boxes until she flipped open the lid of a hard case and fist-pumped triumphantly.
"Yes! Please be charged. Please be charged." She pulled out the hefty tool and fitted the battery, ramming it into position with the heel of her hand before flicking a switch and pointing it at the opposite wall. She checked where Brittany and Quinn were stood before pulling the trigger. There was a sharp punching sound and the brunette nodded jubilantly, giving the blondes a satisfied smile, "Nail gun."
Quinn nodded, looking impressed, whilst Brittany mouthed a silent, "Ohhh."
"So…now we re-think the plan." She flicked the safety switch back on and turned to the two girls, "Should we go for our stuff?"
"No, I still think we should leave." Quinn shook her head firmly, "Now. Leave. Take the chance while we have it."
"But you saw the damage that thing did." Brittany shrugged, pointing to the nail in the opposite wall, "Let's go get the rest of our stuff, we might need it."
Santana rubbed her eyes, scowling heavily, "No. Quinn's right. Let's just get out while it's safe." She shook her head and moved purposefully, grabbing her hoodie from the sink and pulling it back on, ignoring the bloodstains.
"Let's go." The small blonde grabbed the bat from the table and led the way through to the living room and the front door. Santana peered up the stairs as they passed, attempting to listen for any signs of movement, whilst Brittany followed behind.
Suddenly, as her attention was distracted by watching the stairs, the brunette stepped into Brittany's path. The blonde stumbled sideways, crashing into one of the end-tables beside the couch. The table and lamp clattered to the floor with a loud crash. Brittany heard the bulb shatter, and there was a deathly silence. Quinn stared, wide-eyed, at the staircase while Brittany regained her balance. Santana winced apologetically, and they stood stock-still for a moment.
There was a muffled groaning from the upstairs, followed by hurried footsteps. Quinn gasped, immediately turning to the front door, but the key was nowhere to be seen.
"Where is it?" Brittany demanded, whirling around in search of the metal bundle.
"We took it out of the door, I don't know where we put it!" Santana replied urgently. The footsteps were getting louder, and Quinn moved to the bottom of the staircase, peering up at the landing above.
Before she registered what had happened, the crouching woman they had seen through the window had come crashing down the stairs. Her limbs were flailing as she hurled herself at Quinn, who screamed loudly and was sent reeling into the wall. Santana spun around on the spot, sending a hard kick into the woman's face, whose grip was broken as she was thrown against the wall. The brunette raised the nail gun, firing two nails straight into the woman's chest. The second clearly punctured her heart, but the woman still struggled to stand, completely unaware.
"Oh my God." Santana groaned apprehensively. She took a few deep breaths, as if mimicking labour breathing techniques, before raising the nail gun higher and sending another three shots through the woman's head. "Oh God ew."
The woman slumped against the wall, lifeless and limp. Brittany grimaced with horror while Quinn sat, crumpled on the floor, staring transfixed at the body on the stairs. Santana held out her arm, pulling the blonde to her feet.
"So… it's definitely the headshots that do it." Brittany remarked matter-of-factly, her hands on her hips, "Now shall we get our stuff?"
Quinn took a deep breath, shaking her head dejectedly, "Why the hell not? Let's go."
She strode up the stairs, stepping over the woman without a second glance, and headed straight for the double bedroom. She grabbed the bags by the door, throwing them onto the bed and bending down to pull open all of the drawers. Santana joined her a second later, whilst Brittany split off into her own bedroom, and began stuffing clothes into the bags. They grabbed their phones, keys and purses before zipping up the bags swiftly. The brunette swung her satchel over her neck and shoulder, whilst Quinn hitched her bag up onto her back.
Within five minutes the girls were stood on the driveway, glancing nervously over their shoulders at the surrounding brush.
"Well, shit." Brittany sighed.
"What are we going to do?" Quinn frowned, staring down at Santana's red convertible.
Santana's mouth twisted thoughtfully as she glanced from Brittany to Quinn, "Rock, paper, scissors?" Brittany snorted, whilst Quinn glared at her girlfriend.
Sighing, the taller blonde shrugged, "You two get in the car. I'll have to just…take my bike." She grimaced unsurely, but Quinn shook her head.
"No way. That's too risky!"
"What's the alternative?" Brittany argued, "I sit on the back? No way, you might as well drag me behind on a skateboard! You'd achieve the same level of safety."
"We could get you a helmet?" Santana suggested cheekily.
"Quinn, drive the convertible. Santana is our best bet if there's anybody else…like that…out there. She's the only one with a long-range weapon." The blonde shrugged, but Quinn was still scowling. "I'll bike beside you, just don't drive too fast or I'll get left behind."
"I do not like this." Quinn added petulantly, but Santana shook her head.
"Well, I'm sorry, honey. But we don't have much choice. Drive."
The blonde sighed as Santana held out her keys between her thumb and forefinger, "But I'm not even insured!"
"I promise not to tell anyone." Brittany replied, smiling sweetly, "So does Santana. Take the keys."
Quinn sighed again, before grabbing the keys from Santana, who smiled smugly and jogged round to the other side of the car. They hopped in quickly as Brittany retrieved her bike from where it was leaning against the cabin wall, swinging her leg over and coasting down to where the car was parked.
"Okay, um, I think his cabin is in that direction. I'm not sure but I think it's that way, yeah. I'll know it when I see it so, just…take it steady and…I'll be on the lookout. Britts, be careful. Watch your back and if you see anything just say. But don't make too much noise." The girls nodded, and Santana raised the nail gun in preparation, craning up in her seat for a better view over the windscreen.
Quinn started the engine, pulling away slowly, and Brittany began cycling next to them, keeping pace steadily. Santana glanced back over her shoulder at the cabin where she had spent so many vacations, family weekends away, sleep-overs with her two best friends. Her little safe haven. And now it was the scene of a traumatizing attack. She thought of the man with the slashed torso, and the woman with the nail driven through her forehead; their blackened skin and docile expressions, the bloodshot whites of their eyes and their bloody injuries. She took a deep breath, sighing heavily, before turning around in her seat, and pushing any thoughts and memories of the cabin out of her mind.
