Avengers Theatre Presents: Fright Night!
Intro: Coulson Dies.
A bloody gurgle escaped the vampire's latest victim, as their throat was seized tightly in his supernatural grip, and squeezed to the point of imminent asphyxiation.
Phil gasped aloud, as he watched his twin-sister, Lil', be choked so brutally by the hulking stranger that loomed over her nearly lifeless form; his knees were pressing dangerously into her sternum, and Phil could have sworn he heard her lower ribs crack under the vampire's immense weight.
His gasp turned to a cry of despair, when the vampire's already vice-like grip on Lil's neck tightened; until the woman no longer made noise, and he lifted her head and shoulders the short distance they could go, before he slammed her down against the headboard and cracked her skull.
Phil couldn't bear to watch the vampire sink his fangs into the now-dearly departed Lillian Coulson; instead he picked himself off the floor—where the vampire had thrown him; when he had first entered the room, what felt like a few moments ago—and, took off for the door.
The vampire's fangs make a sickening sound, as they pierced Lil's flesh, and Phil tried to block it out, as he lunged for the doorway. Grabbing the arch, Phil took a deep breath of courage, before he legged it down the hallway.
His muscles and joints ached and creaked; letting it be known that they were not used to the amount of physical exertion. If Phil survived this ordeal, god damn it, he was gonna get on the treadmill!
Tearing down the hall like a bat out of hell, Phil grabbed every end table or photo that littered the area around him and knocked them to the floor to try and slow the vampire's pursuit, if he decided to give chase.
He seemed quite distracted with drinking Lil's life-blood, so it didn't seem likely that he would stop, just because Phil had escaped, but... Phil wasn't going to take any second chances, he'd seen the horror movies; he wasn't going to meander around and wait for the vampire to come get him!
Phil legged it like never before—quite literally, like never before; because, Phil had never had to run this hard and this fast for anything in his entire life—until he got to the apex of the hallway, and fell, to keep from crashing into the wall. Though, instead of acting like a blonde-bombshell in a B-rank Horror flick, he didn't stay down for long. Scrambling to his feet, Phil shook off the pain in the shoulder he had fallen onto, and crossed the remaining half of the hallway with near admirable speed.
Once he was at the stairwell, Phil almost cried with relief. Throwing his arms out to catch the railing, the man sprinted down the stairs. Taking each step a pair at a time, Phil almost stumbled on his sock-clad toes, but caught himself at the last moment. A sigh of relief, and a hop down the last few steps later, and Phil was on the landing almost pissing himself with joy.
That joy tingled all the way down to the pit of his stomach, and tied itself into a thick knot, when he realized that, while he could be escaping, right about now; his family was dead, murdered in their own house by a unholy creature—and, the next thing he knew, Phil was lurching forward and puking his guts out on the floor.
The remnants of this morning's breakfast and lunch burned, as it churned and bubbled up his esophagus and out of his mouth, and Phil's eyes stung, as he tried to keep from retching loudly; holding his stomach, Phil road out the vomit session as quietly as possible, before righting himself and wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt.
His recovery time was surprisingly quick; but, that was probably because he heard the sounds of the vampire upstairs moving on the bed, it's springs creaking and moaning with every shift of his body—and, Phil was looking around for a place to run...to hide!
His eyes locked on the first thing he saw, and they immediately lit up with glee! From where he stood, he could see the front door; the wooden door, brass knob and the stained glass window sparkled like a beacon of salvation. Oh, my god! He was going to get out of here!
All he had to do was stay just quiet enough, and he could get to the door and get the hell out of dodge! Oh, and from the front door; he could get to the front yard, and then, from there; he could get to a neighbor's house, and then... then...
His dog, Cap'n America, who was AWOL, up until now, decided to make his grand entrance by letting out a shrill series of loud barks!
"NOOOOO!" Phil sobbed aloud, despite himself, as he lunged forward; arms flying forward to try and catch the mutt, so he could silence it! The dog let out another string of what seemed to be taunting yips, before he turned and dashed towards the door; he slipped through the doggie-door with ease and was probably gone to tell his dog friends how he screwed his owner over.
For a moment, the noise upstairs ceased, and Phil wondered just what the hell the vampire was doing; but, then the man quickly gathered his wits and decided it was either now or never-he had to make a choice; hide or make a mad dash for the door.
His decision was made for him, when he heard the vampire let out an uncharacteristic roar—one that was so loud, so fear-inducing, that Phil could have sworn the creature was right behind him! And, when the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, Phil felt pretty-friggin'-sure that the vampire was breathing on him, right about now!
A whimper lodged itself in Phil's throat, as the man took off in the other direction from the door, towards a dimly lit hallway. At this rate, he would never make it out through the front door, and the back door was inaccessible—it was boarded up, because his sister liked to bring her boyfriend's into the house, using it—he would either have to wait until the vampire got bored—or, until daybreak... which, unfortunately meant that he would have to hide.
He wasn't ever too good at hide and seek... hopefully, this wouldn't end like all those other times; maybe he wouldn't be found, if he chose a good enough spot!
Running down the scantly lit corridor, Phil felt on the walls and soon familiarized himself with the area. This was the hallway that led to his parents' bedroom-holy shit, he mentally swore, as a realization slapped him across the face. The master bedroom had a window in there, one large enough for him to climb out of; he still had a chance to escape!
With renewed vigor, Phil ran the rest of the way, his hands feeling the walls and doors, so that he could keep count of how many rooms he passed. Eventually, his fingers touched the fourth door, and he grinned, knowing it to be the door to his parent's room.
Groping around for the knob, Phil hastily opened the door and slipped into the room. Closing it behind him, the man searched for and found a means of barricading the door; his parents' dresser!
Pulling and pushing with all his might—at some point, he had to pull the drawers out, and stack them elsewhere; just to get the dresser to budge, it was just that so friggin' heavy—until it was pressed against the door, Phil let out a sigh of relief, before turning around to survey the room.
He didn't have to look for long, to see that the vampire had already been in the room. The proof was right there, in his face. His mother and father, Mr. and Mrs. Coulson, were dead on the floor, by their bed. Slaughtered like animals... their faces were heavily gored and... God, he couldn't stand to look any longer!
Putting a hand to his mouth, to keep from any more vomiting, Phil choked on a sob, as he looked away from his parents slain bodies… to think, his sister... Lil' was just upstairs, and she probably killed just like this...
Phil had to cut his mourning short, when he heard the sound of the vampire trotting down the stairs, as loud as he could possibly be. The bastard was toying with him! But... Why!
Having no time to guess the vampire's MO, Phil completely forgot about his plan of climbing out the window, and instead went for the bed. Dropping to his hands and knees, Phil quickly apologized to his deceased father, before climbing over him and then under the spacious, queen-sized bed. With all the covers on it, the bed was harder to see under, from the perspective of someone entering the room; Phil was going to use this to his advantage.
As he plotted out a way to escape, Phil was completely unaware of the numbing silence that swept throughout his over-turned home—it wasn't until the door was being literally ripped from its hinges, did Phil come back to reality. Ah, crap! The vampire had found him!
The sound of the door being snapped in half made Phil jump and cover his mouth to keep from shouting. OH, SHIIIIIIT! He was going to die! His gruesome thoughts only intensified, when the vampire threw the door fragments all the way down the hallway—how did Phil know that the creature threw the remains down the hall? It all crashed into glass, and the only glass in the corridor was the window at the far side.
The noise only escalated in volume, when the vampire kicked the dresser out of the doorway. The large piece of furniture caught major air, as it sailed across the room and crashed out of the window, at speeds that could not have been generated by any explainable force created by someone of the human-shape.
Crossing his fingers, Phil prayed. He prayed like never before, as the vampire approached the bed. His big, black leather boots thudding with each menacing step he took. The sound and vibrations reverberating in Phil's chest; like a drum solo being beaten out by Death, himself!
Phil's eyes stayed glued to those boots, as the vampire walked around the room, and they almost shut, when the creature stood within arms-reached, so that he could lean down and collect the bodies of the Coulson parents. When the vampire left the room with Mrs. Coulson, Phil scooted back from the edge of the bed, until he found himself near the center. He was screwed; like totally screwed!
And, alas, his final thoughts were brutally confirmed, when the vampire returned to the room and made a beeline for the bed.
A scream, Phil's scream, echoed through the quiet house, as the vampire grabbed the bed by the corner and hefted it upright to reveal the quavering Phil. The creature flashed his fangs; before he sent the flipping towards the nearest wall with a flick of his wrist.
Phil only had a moment to react, before the vampire attacked him—and, he chose that split second to try and call for help.
Too bad no one could hear him, or any of the other Coulson's, during the attack.