Chapter 7:

Kris' eyes widened. His mind went almost completely blank. He knew he had to run. He had to. It was almost as if he was glued to the floor though. He couldn't move. Like a statue. Like a deer and headlights. Frozen.

The guy ran and lunged at him. Finally coming to his senses, he jumped out of the way. Just in time; the knife missing his head by inches. Too close. Way too close.

Kris ran at full speed away from the man. Away from that awful scene. Matt. He was dead. Just like that. And Danny. And who knows who else. Thank God he still had the flashlight so he could see. But that also meant the killer could see him too. He couldn't give up that precious light though. It was the only light he had. The only light he had to keep himself on track; showing him the way to go.

He ran down an empty corridor at full speed, quickly trying to open the doors in the hallway. No luck. They were all locked.

He got to the end of the passageway. One more door. That was it. Only one more. He turned the knob. It was locked too. And he was cornered. He turned to face the man, who stopped once realizing Kris was trapped. The man grinned.

"My first kill of the night, and it gets to be the American Idol winner himself. Kris Allen!"

"You...you don't want to do this..." Kris studdered. Please, PLEASE don't. PLEASE!" he begged.

The man only scoffed at him. "Yeah, like I'm going to listen to you." he lunged at Kris.

Michael finally came to a little while later. He tried to get up, but couldn't. His head shot up. Where was he? Wasn't he near Lil's...body?" he shivered thinking about it. Where was he now though? He looked around. He was in a small little room now, one of those interrogation rooms it looked like. What happened?

He looked down. His hands were tied securely to the chair he was sitting on, as were his feet. He struggled to get free. But couldn't. He was trapped.

"H...hello?" he called out. His voice echoed in the small room. "Anyone there?" he said nervously.

"Why hello Michael!" said a voice coming from behind him. He snapped his head in that direction, turning it back and forth so he could actually see. Once he did he regretted it though.

A tall, muscular man stepped out of the dark corner, a big bloody steak knife in his hand. Michael gasped and struggled even harder to try and break free. The ropes only tightened on his wrist. He screamed out in pain.

"It's no use trying to escape," the man said chuckling. He took a few steps closer to him. "It's no use. You're going to die. Just like you're friend..."Michael whimpered. Tears started falling down his face. "Please, no. Please god, please don't let this happen. PLEASE!"

The man laughed and stepped up right behind him, running the blade of the knife across Michael's throat. Michael held his breath, trying not to sob. The guy dug it in a little bit as he slid it across, leaving a slight cut on his neck. Blood started dripping down. He took the knife away and put his finger on the point.

"How would you like to die Michael? Would you like a nice, swift death or a slow painful one?" Michael opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. "You'd LIKE to choose wouldn't you! But it's all up to me. What kind would be most appealing to the public eye? What kind would make me a STAR?"

More tears started to fall down his face. "You...you realize you're going to do to jail for this! It'll all be on screen, they'll have video proof!"

"You don't think I know that?" he spun around and started pacing in front of Michael. "I'm already going to jail anyway. Hell, I should be in jail NOW! Your precious little director is the one that broke me out! And by that I mean bribed the cops. I mean, what cop in their right mind would say no to a famous director? Well, he's not famous yet, but he WILL be! This is going to make him huge, and me too! I'll be a legend for taking part in this! One of those people kids in school do their projects on. You'll see MY face on posters. MINE!" he stopped pacing and turned to face Michael. He leaned down so he was face-to-face with him; their faces only inches apart. "And you will be dead!"

Michael leaned his head back and snapped his head forward as forcefully as he could. His head collided with the man's nose. He fell backwards, caught off guard. His nose started bleeding. He got up as fast as he could, his eyes narrowed. "You're going to pay for that!" the man said through gritted teeth.

Thinking quickly, Michael stood up and spun around. He ran backwards at full speed and jabbed the chair legs right into the guy's stomach. He screamed out in pain and held the knife at ready. Michael gulped. Maybe his plan wasn't so good after all. Now what?

The guy then dropped the knife and grabbed two of the legs on Michael's chair. "Looks like I'm going to do this the old fashioned way..." He shoved Michael forward with all his might. Michael slammed roughly into the wall. Before He had a chance to get away, the man ran full-speed at the back of the chair and pushed him into the wall. The chair legs broke off.

"Please...please. Just have mercy on me. PLEASE!" Michael begged.

"Too late for that buddy!" The man slammed him roughly into the wall multiple times until Michael collapsed to the floor. He was breathing heavily, trying to force oxygen into his now-damaged lungs. The guy yanked him up to his feet by the throat. "Not so tough now, are ya?!" he slammed Michael face-first into the wall again, rubbing his face against it and leaving a streak of blood.

Michael tried to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he vomited all over the floor; blood coming out also. He fell to the floor and started having muscle spasms. The man just laughed. "I'd love to stay here and watch you suffer, but I've got history to make!" he picked up the knife off the ground and stabbed it right through the top of Michael's head. He immediately went limp, his head dropping into the pool of vomit and blood on the ground. The guy slammed Michael's head down one last time on the ground for dramatic effect, then exited the room. On to find more victims.