Randy cussed and slammed his fist against the wall. Surviving the killings was only half the battle. Surviving the aftermath was just as hard. He was too emotionally drained to really think about the events of the previous night. Mickey was the killer. Billy Loomis nearly got his revenge. Mommy's little boy, even in death.
This wasn't going to happen again. It couldn't. What kind of sick bastard would make a third attempt to kill them? Interrupting his thoughts, his roommate knocked on the door and walked in.
"Man, I'm so sorry," he exclaimed, stumbling a little as he made his way to pat Randy on the back.
"Shit you're drunk," Randy said.
"Well, it's been a bad night. You gotta admit..." He mumbled.
"You know what, go to bed. I'm leaving," Randy said, grabbing his keys. With a broken girl on his mind her headed out the door.