Two Against Two

Chapter 22

December 24, 1990-9:00 P.M. CST

(Christine's PoV:)

Kevin and I are sitting at the table in the dining room, eating a quick sandwich, while waiting for the burglars to arrive.

My stomach is in knots, and my hands are shaking, as I'm thinking that this sandwich could be Kevin and I's last meal. I shudder at the thought. Kevin, on the other hand, seems emotionless. I'm not sure what the little guy is thinking or feeling. I just watch him eat the sandwich I made.

"You okay, Kevin?" I ask, worried.

"I'm fine, Christine," he reassures me. The look in his eyes tells a different story, though.

The chiming of the grandfather clock from the living room startles the both of us, as I fearfully look at my watch. Nine o' clock, it reads I run towards the living room, while Kevin runs upstairs.

I wonder where he's going, as I peek through the curtains, and I see the burglars have arrived and are heading towards the backdoor. Their heads are going to be flame broiled, if they try to force their way inside. My chest tightens, thinking that Kevin and I are going to die, if things don't go as planned.

Kevin soon comes back with what looks like a rifle. "Where did you get that from?"

"Buzz's room. It's his air rifle, and I thought it might come in handy,"

"Good thinking, little brother!" I praise. "The burglars have arrived, and they're heading for the backdoor in the kitchen,"

Kevin cocks the rifle. "Let's go get them, big sis," I follow him into the kitchen. Kevin positions himself in front of Fred's doggy door, while I lean on the counter right next to it, so I can overhear what's going on.

My stomach becomes cold, when the burglars' silhouettes pop up and knock. "Who is it?" I reply, already knowing the answer. Their farce reply about having gifts and coming in peace really pisses me off. So, I instruct Kevin to aim for the burglars' groin, when firing…

(Kevin's PoV:)

I take a big gulp, as I aim Buzz's air rifle through Fred's doggy door at the groin of the short, mean-looking burglar and pull the trigger. The gun pops out a pellet, and nails the little man dead center in the crotch.

I have to withhold from laughing, as I see the little man drop to his knees in pain, uttering words that would get my mouth washed out with soap. I reel back in fear, when the big goof sticks his head through the doggy door. So, I quickly shoot him in the forehead, knocking him back into the snow, screaming like a baby.

It doesn't take long for the two to get back on their feet, and for me to overhear the two saying they're going to try to get into the house by the front door and the basement entryway.

I relay what I heard to Christine. I take a deep breath, knowing the war has just begun. I might end up being one of the casualties, if things don't go as planned…

(Christine's PoV:)

Kevin has informed me the burglars are now going to attempt getting into the house at both the front and the basement. The real fight now begins, and a bunch of makeshift traps will decide if Kevin and I live or die on the night before Christmas.

I turn my attention to Kevin. "We'd better be getting upstairs and be ready to lob some paint cans, when the time comes," I say, feeling terrified. We both head upstairs, using the kitchen stairwell…

(Harry's PoV:)

I limp through the snow angrily, still hurting from where the little troublemakers shot me. They're both going to pay for that, when I get ahold of them.

I finally make it back to the front of the house, and make my way up the steps, leading to the front door. My feet slip out from under me, and I'm sent flying backwards, painfully crashing into the driveway.

"Son of a bitch!" I yell, holding my throbbing head. How in the hell did the stairs ice so fast? It hasn't rained, since our last visit. The little pissants must've hosed them down.

After a brief moment, I get up and make a second attempt at the stairs. I make it on the porch after some slipping and sliding, only to find myself being flung back onto the driveway, hurting even more.

"Those two are dead. I'm going to hang them by their thumbs, and then shoot them," I bounce back on my feet from the rush of adrenaline, and I brave the stairs for the third time, using the handrail for support. I'm back on the porch again, and this time, I tread slowly toward the front door, trying not to slip again.

"So easy," I reach out and grab for the knob. "Yeow! Fuck!" I scream from the agonizing pain of my hand burning. I quickly scamper back down the slippery steps and shove my hand and aching head into the pile of snow, not caring about the consequences.

"That feels good," The coolness of the snow provides a little relief from the pain throbbing in both my head and hand. "Those two are going to be pouring buckets of blood, when I get ahold of them…"

(Marv's PoV:)

After seeing Harry limp off towards the front door, I make my way toward the stairs that will lead to the basement. I begin my descent down the steps, only to have my feet slip out from under me. My head bounces against the steps. "Ow! Ow! Ow!"

The slick bottom catapults me onto the door, and further aggravates the already throbbing pain in my head. Luckily, the safety lock on the shotgun I have concealed in my coat is on.

I reach for my crowbar and use it to prop myself back onto both feet. I try to keep myself balanced on the slick landing, which is covered with a sheet of ice.

I begin working to pry open the basement door with my crowbar, and it doesn't take long to crack open. I push open the door and walk in like I own the place. I start feeling around the wall for the nonexistent lightswitch.

The basement is pitch-black, and it's very hard to see in here. I slowly and quietly walk deeper into the basement, trying to avoid bumping into any of the basement junk, while still trying to find some kind of light. I wish I brought a flashlight along.

"Finally…" I mutter, once I see a light bulb with a pull chain. The chain, bulb, and socket all fall apart after yanking the chain. What the hell? I look up to find out the now-broken light bulb was a fake dangling from the laundry chute.

"Why would someone dangle a light bulb from a laundry chute?" That's when a barbell soon smashes into my face, and knocks me flat on my back, answering my question. My surroundings all go black…

(Harry's PoV:)

I've laid here long enough in the snow, feeling a little relief from the pain. I get back onto both feet, and notice a large, red, cackling "M" imprint on the hand that was burned.

I stew in anger about how I'm going to make those two gag on each other's blood, before killing the both of them. I march towards the back of the house and plan to force my way in through the backdoor.

I arrive at the backdoor. I spit on my hand and gently tap the knob to see if it's hot, before grabbing it fully and opening the door, unaware I'm about to activate the blowtorch next to the door. I scream, as a whoosh of fire sets my head ablaze, and it sends me running back outside.

I hear a loud hiss after diving headfirst into the snow for the second time tonight to cool off my burning scalp. Only, I hear it sizzle, and it's very painful to touch, when I lift my head out of the snow.

I angrily get back on my feet and kick open the backdoor, knocking down the blowtorch, and stomp my way into the house.

"When I get my hands on the both of you, I'm gonna jerk out your eyeballs with a corkscrew!" I yell loud enough, making sure those little shits can hear me. I begin searching around for them, not knowing more traps await…

(Christine's PoV:)

I hold Kevin tightly, as the little guy sobs softly into my chest. "Everything is going to be okay, Kev," I reassure him, kissing him on top of the forehead, while my body shakes in fear.

I just heard the loud midget burglar proclaim he's going yank out our eyeballs, if he catches us, causing my brother to cry, and a sicken feeling to hit my stomach. I did hear the little man scream in pain twice earlier, meaning the traps are working, as intended.

The little man's partner must still be knocked out in the basement after having Buzz's barbell fall on top of him from the laundry chute. Kevin suggested taunting them from the stairs earlier, prior to the threats, but I nixed that idea pretty fast.

It's better to stay quiet to make it harder for the burglars to find us. I close my eyes and hold a silent vigil, while waiting for the burglars to come…

(Marv's PoV:)

"What the hell just happened?" I come back to my senses. My head and back are throbbing in pain. It comes back to me, when I spot the barbell that smashed into my face. I'm still not understanding why someone would drop a barbell down a laundry chute.

I get back onto both feet and make my way towards the stairs. "What the hell?" I step into a sticky glue-like substance on the stairwell. I look down to discover it's tar. "Why would someone paint roofing tar on the stairs?"

The strong adhesiveness of the tar forces me to abandon both my shoes and socks, while I continue my climb upwards, barefoot, stickiness aside. I take a few more steps, unaware that a large sharp nail has just been jammed into my foot. I scream, as a stabbing pain suddenly throbs in my foot.

I look down, and notice a large roofing nail has penetrated deep inside the bottom of my foot, causing me to fall backwards on the stairs. I now lie on the basement floor, clutching my aching foot. I scream loudly, as I yank out the nail, which is covered in blood from the bottom of my foot and tar.

"I'm going to vise their heads so tight, that their brains will splatter out of both ears!" I finally realize what's going on. After dressing my injured foot with a dirty handkerchief, I limp my way back outside—the coldness of the surface numbing the pain in my foot.

I very slowly crawl up the cold, slippery steps. Once I reach the top, I notice a window is open, as if they're inviting me to come in.

"Invitation accepted. I hope you like the taste of shotgun," I pull out Old Anne from inside my coat and cock it, ready to fire. I limp for the open window, ignoring the fact I'm walking in the snow, barefoot. I climb through the window, and I hear a shatter. I scream loudly from the piercing pain in both feet.

"Not again…" I moan, as I slump to the floor, holding Old Anne tightly, so it doesn't misfire. I look to see what causes the pain this time, and it turns out I stepped on some glass Christmas ornaments.

"I'm going to kill the both of you!" I scream, as I climb back onto both feet and wince in pain from the nail and glass stuck in my feet. I slowly trot over to the carpet and head for the next room…

(Harry's PoV:)

Where could those little creeps be? How about the dining room? I smile, nastily. "Say your last rights, because you're about to die on the Eve before Christmas!" I burst into the dining room, straight into Saran Wrap, covered in glue.

"I'm going to rip out your intestines and use them as a rope to snap your scrawny necks!" I try to wipe off the glue from my face, only to hear a sound of a fan click. "Oh no…" A pile of feathers covers my body. I take some deep breaths and whip out my pistol, as I head to the room, where the screams are coming from.

I quickly take cover behind the doorframe after hearing the sound of tiptoeing in the next room. I've been waiting for this moment to finally be able to put a bullet in between one of those little creeps' eyes.

I spring out from behind the doorframe, yelling, "Ready to dance with the Devil in the pale moonlight, you brats?!" The gun is aimed and ready to fire.

"Don't shoot, Harry!" Marv screams. His hands are in the air, standing under the living room doorway, across the main foyer.

I lower my gun and ask, "What the hell happened to you?" I notice his bruised face and swollen fleet.

"I got banged in the head and stabbed in the feet," Marv shrugs. "What about you, Harry?"

"My head was set on fire, my hand was burned, and I got feathered," I reply. "Now, let's find those little punks. I bet they're hiding upstairs…"

(Christine's PoV:)

My heart chills in fear, and Kevin clutches on to me tighter, as I overhear both burglars threaten to kill us from different rooms in the house. I peek over the railing after hearing one of them scream not to shoot.

The fear inside me increases, when I see guns, and the two talking to one another. They're discussing how badly the traps Kevin and I set hurt them, which makes me smile a little.

"Kevin, it's time to lob the paint cans," I whisper to my frightened brother after hearing that the burglars are coming up here to look for us. Kevin just nods, still scared.

"That means they're going find us. I regret suggesting taunting them from the stairwell earlier," Kevin sobs, quietly.

"Yes, they're going to find us, but the paint cans should stun them long enough for us to call the police. I'm ready to get their attention, when you are, little brother,"

Kevin and I lean over the railing, and we both yell, "Hey, you dumb jackasses! We're up here! Come and get us, if you can, suckers!" Kevin and I grip the paint cans tightly, ready to lob, before they can get a shot from their guns…

(Harry's PoV:)

My head snaps up towards the stairs, and I see those two little pricks taunting us. Marv and I quickly make chase toward the stairs, guns drawn, only to have our feet slip out from under the both of us, which sends us crashing onto our backs. Marbles… We slipped on marbles. I start laughing.

"You okay, Harry?" Marv asks me, with a look of uncertainty. He helps me back onto my feet. "You didn't shoot yourself, did you?"

"I think I lost my mind, going through this funhouse of pain. And, no, I didn't shoot myself, Marv."

"You guys give up yet?!" Marv and I hear the punk girl and kid yell.

"Does this look like we give up to you?! Once we get ahold of you, we're going to shoot you and boil your bodies in battery acid!" Marv and I draw our guns, and go rushing up the stairs…

(Christine's PoV:)

Kevin lobs his paint can first, smacking the big goof right in the face, and sending him flying back onto the floor. I quickly lob my paint can after seeing the little man preparing to pull the trigger. It whacks him right in the face, sending him flying right on top of his partner.

"Let's go, Kevin," We hurry to Mom and Dad's room, knowing we don't have much time, before the burglars are back on their feet.

I grab the receiver off the phone and dial 911. "911, emergency,"

"Help! My house is being robbed! 656 Lincoln Blvd.! My name is Murphy! I have to go! I hear them coming after me!"

"The police are on their way, Ma'am. Get to safety at once,"

"Let's go, Kevin," We both flee the bedroom and dart for the attic.

"There they go!" I hear one of the burglars yell, as my heart pounds heavily.

The burglars are now chasing us. Kevin hightails it up the attic stairs, while I fall flat on my face, forgetting about the tripwire. I quickly try to get back on my feet, only to be knocked back onto the carpet. Something heavy is placed onto my back to keep me from escaping.

"Look it here… Seems the tide has turned into our favor, and her little trap did the job for us, too. How ironic. I hope you don't mind me using your back as a footrest," the little bastard taunts. "What should we do with the pretty lady?"

"I say we question her about where the kid went. As long that little turd is running loose, we risk being caught,"

I yelp in pain, as one of the bastards grabs me off the floor by my hair and tosses me hard against the wall. "I hope you made it to safety, Kevin. I'm sorry I'm not going to be joining you. I'm about to die," I silently pray, as the little man places his gun under my chin.

"Where did the kid go, lady? You either tell us where he went, or my partner puts a bullet through your chin?"

"Go to Hell!" I spit back, only for the big goof to slap me hard across the face, causing tears to prick from my eyes.

"You'd better give us some answers now, if you want to live to see Christmas!" the big goof shouts, shaking me hard. I spit at them again in defiance.

"She's not going to tell us anything, Marv. We'd better be looking for the kid. He couldn't have gone too far,"

"What about the girl, Harry? We just can't take her with us. Do we kill her now?" the big goof asks his partner, while holding me against the wall.

"No, we don't kill her, because I still need answers from her. I got it," the bastard replies.

He pulls a rag out of his pocket, pours some kind of liquid on the rag, and quickly shoves it over my nose and mouth. I try my best to fight back, but the fumes from the rag are making my surroundings blurry. Everything suddenly goes black…

END

A/N: Is Christine still alive? Will Kevin survive the Wet Bandits? Will the police make it in time? All those questions will be answered in the next thrilling chapter of Two Against Two!