Jason put the little girl's body in the shower and closed the curtain. He went to leave the bathroom, but stopped. The wall was splattered with blood. He couldn't leave it.

Ripping off a strip of cloth that had been hanging from his arm, he cleaned up most of the blood, then threw it into a trash can. He opened the bathroom door and peeked out. The hallway was empty.

He slipped out of the bathroom and started down the corridor, but stopped when he heard the sound of the front door slam and the sound of voices on the stairs. Moving fast, he ducked into a room and shut the door. It was dark, but he saw two beds, two dressers, two nightstands, and posters on the walls. He spotted a closet with a folding door, and went to it, ducking inside and closing the door just as someone entered.

-2-

Lori pushed the door open, and Bobby fell back, nearly taking her with him.

"Someone's ready," Bobby laughed.

Lori closed the door with her foot and put her arms around his neck. "I'm always ready."

Bobby nodded. It was true. Lori was a virgin their first time, three weeks before. It was Bobby's experience that virgin's took a while to get into the swing of things. Not Lori Loud. Oh no. He tapped into a sexual monster. She wanted it all the time now. In the car, on the floor, in the shower. Bobby didn't mind, even if he was starting to get a little chafed down there.

"Are you?" she asked, looking into his eyes.

He shrugged. "I could go for some."

"Good," she said, and pushed him backwards onto Leni's bed. She mounted him and tore her shirt off, tossing it casually aside. Her breasts were pert and full, her nipples a light pink and stiff. Bobby smiled and licked his lips.

"You have a condom?" she asked.

Bobby thought for a moment, and realized that he didn't. "No."

Lori bowed her head and sighed. "Well...if you're really careful, I guess we don't need one."

Jason watched through the slats in the closet door as the girl kicked out of her shorts, and helped the boy pull his pants down. His grip on the machete tightened.

The girl settled herself onto the boy, and let out a long moan. "You feel so good," she purred.

"God, so do you," the boy gasped.

Pinning the boy's shoulders to the bed, the girl began to grind her hips. The smell reached Jason's nose, a damp, musky odor, and he began to shake with rage.

"Ummm," the girl sighed, "whose is it, Bobby?"

"It's yours."

"Whose is it?"

"Yours."

"What's my name, Bobby?"

The girl slapped him.

"God, it's Lori!"

The girl increased her speed. The bed was shaking and beginning to squeak. Jason could stand it no longer. He crashed through the closet door and raised the machete. The girl turned to him, her eyes and mouth going wide with surprise, but before she could make a sound, the blade smashed into her head, severing it above the jaw. It flew through the air and hit the wall with a wet smack before falling to the carpet. Blood gushed from the girl's ruined neck/jaw.

The boy let out a small noise of horror, but Jason silenced him, turning around and cleaving his head in two. One half fell off the bed and hit the floor. The other half landed on the pillow. The girl's body, her hands clawing at her neck as though she were still alive and in terror, pitched forward and landed on top of the boy. Jason stood over the scene, heaving. He threw the machete aside, rolled the girl off of the boy, and plunged his hands deep into his guts. They were warm and slippery.

Later, when Jason was done, he left the room and went downstairs, not caring if he met anyone.

He didn't.

He needed a dark place to collect himself, to decompress. The pantry off the kitchen was perfect. Save for jars and cans and boxes of food, he was alone. He sat, drew his knees up, and fell asleep.