Trish's eyes fluttered open and she came to, realizing she was in the living room of her house. She looked down at her clothes, seeing the blood and mud caked all over her from head to toe.

Jason was lying on the floor in front of her, his head nothing but a mass of bloody tissue, the machete still driven through his skull. She could see bits of brain and gore through the rotting skin, and she grimaced.

The house was quiet. Tommy was nowhere in sight.

Trish looked over and saw Rob, still lying there on the hardwood floor in a pool of blood and broken glass.

It took her a moment to realize it was morning. Sunlight was flooding in through the two broken picture windows, and birds were chirping peacefully.

Trish struggled to her feet, wincing at the pain in her right ankle, and limped to the window.

Her eyes lit up as she saw the police cars coming down the winding country road.

"Tommy! Tommy, let's get out of here! The police are here!" Trish called, but there was no answer.

She looked towards the stairs. No sign of Tommy.

"Tommy!" she called again. Still no answer.

Trish stepped over Jason's unmoving body and began walking up the staircase. She got to the second floor and rounded the banister, going down to the last door on the right and pushing open what was left of Tommy's bedroom door.

His room was empty. The smashed computer monitor was still on the floor.

Trish stepped back, perplexed. Where the hell was he? The sirens outside were growing louder.

"Tommy…" Trish started to say, when a noise caught her attention.

It was the sound of running water.

Then she saw the water flowing out from under the bathroom door.

"What the hell…" she muttered, moving to the bathroom door and opening it.

The bathroom was flooded. Water was up over Trish's ankles. She gasped in horror at what she saw.

The bathtub was filled with blood.

Her mother was lying there in the tub of blood, her eyes closed peacefully, motionless.

"Mom!" Trish exclaimed in horror, rushing to the side of the bathtub and lifting her nude body out of the water.

She cradled her lifeless mother in her arms, sobbing hysterically.

All of a sudden, her mother came to life, grabbing Trish by the neck and squeezing. Trish tried to scream, but the hands were too strong; they were strangling her.

She saw into her mother's eyes, and they opened, revealing nothing but white. Her mother's mouth opened, and a waterfall of blood erupted out.

Trish recoiled, pushing her mother's hands away finally, screaming again and again in pure terror.

She sprang to her feet and ran for the bathroom door. Standing there in the bathroom doorway was Tommy, wearing the hockey mask, an axe in his hands.

He swung it right at Trish's heart.

Trish woke up screaming.

Two hands pinned her back down to the bed, and her eyes flashed open, a white light blinding her.

Trish's body relaxed as she realized she was safe. There was no dead mother, no Tommy with an axe, just a hospital room surrounded by police.

She stopped screaming, seeing the concerned faces of the officers.

"Mrs. Jarvis, are you alright?"

Trish looked around the room, letting it sink in all at once, and she remembered all of it. Rob being murdered, that maniac chasing her and Tommy through the house, Tommy grabbing that machete and going absolutely crazy…it all came back to her. She looked down and saw the gauze on her ankle, and the gauze wrapped tightly around her upper arm where Jason had hit her with the axe

"Yes….yeah I'm ok…where's my mother? Where's Tommy?" Trish asked.

She saw several pained expressions, and her heart sank.

"M'am, your little brother is in the next room, he's fine. But your mother didn't make it," one officer said, stepping closer to the bed.

Trish felt tears welling up, and a lump forming in her throat.

"Is everybody dead?"

"Yes. The only ones alive are you and the boy. Tommy did a real number on that guy," another officer remarked.

Trish remembered. She shuddered thinking about it. Tommy almost had scared her more than Jason, seeing him go berserk like that.

"Is…Tommy ok? He went crazy…." Trish said.

"Under extreme duress, people can perform extraordinary behavior…feats of strength…and that's what happened when your brother attacked the killer. It was normal for him to protect himself," the first officer explained. "He will be fine. What you need is some rest,"

"Can I see him?" Trish asked.

"Yeah, we'll send him in," said the other officer, with hesitation.

The four policemen left the room, closing the door, and shortly after, Tommy came rushing into the room, his head still shaved completely, his clothes torn and rumpled.

"Tommy…" Trish said with relief, embracing him. "It's over, it's over,"

Trish didn't see the look on Tommy's face as he stared blankly at the wall behind them.

His eyes were glassed over, his face drained of color, his eyes…empty and soulless. There was something evil about it….Tommy could feel a white-hot intensity bubbling up within him…a rage…a burning rage that threatened to consume him.

THE END