by Mark Lukens
She pushed the muzzle of the gun harder against his temple. “I don’t have time for this, old man.”
Victor’s eyes widened in surprise as he looked up at Lita and then beyond her.
Lita didn’t have a chance to react; she didn’t have a chance to even dive to the side to avoid the attack.
Ryan was right behind her with the old-fashioned straight razor in his hand, the old-fashioned straight razor with the word Cutter carved into it. And like he’d done so many times before in his past, Cutter sliced through flesh with the razor blade; he slashed Lita right across her throat.
Lita dropped Victor’s gun and her hands grabbed at her throat, trying in vain to close the gaping wound, trying to stop the flow of blood that oozed through her gloved fingers and dripped down to the floor.
Ryan watched with no emotion as she fell over onto her side.
He picked up Victor’s gun from the floor and looked at him.
Victor struggled to push himself away from Ryan and Lita. He stared at Lita as he tried to move away from her; she lay on the floor and one of her legs kicked in spasms as she gurgled and drowned in her own blood.
Victor crawled past the recliner to the front of the couch and he had to stop, each movement sent searing pain through his body, every breath was a labor for him. But he needed to get away from Ryan – he was afraid Ryan was going to walk up behind him and calmly grab a handful of his hair with one hand and draw the razor blade across his throat with the other hand just like he’d done to that woman. Victor had seen the look in Ryan’s eyes – he knew that Ryan was going to kill them. He was going to kill every one of them.
If I could just get to the phone and call the police, Victor thought. But the phone was in the kitchen; there was no way he could make it that far right now. And he was crawling away in the wrong direction, taking cover in front of the couches.
Then he thought of the woman’s gun that she had kicked across the room. But he couldn’t see it in the darkness. It was beyond the couch he rested in front of, somewhere near the archway.
He got to the end of the couch and he had to rest. He knew Ryan would be on top of him in a few seconds. He knew his life would be over soon.
He just wanted to help Carol, and he had failed. He could feel a blackness washing over him; it was darker than the room he was in. He lost consciousness for a moment.
Ryan watched Victor crawl towards the end of one of the couches. Victor had curled up near the couch, breathing heavy and wheezing. He was very still and he seemed to have passed out. Ryan took a step towards Victor, but then he stopped and looked up at the ceiling when he heard a soft thumping noise from upstairs. It was a sound he’d heard before in this house. It was the sound of someone in the upstairs hallway.
Amber’s up there, he thought. And there’s someone up there with her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
1.
Mr. Murdock held Amber with one arm around her neck, and his other gloved hand held a pistol jammed to the side of her head. She could feel the cold steel of the gun against her temple; he was pushing it against her head so hard. And he was breathing so heavy.
“Hold the duffel bag in front of you,” he told her in a grunting voice. “We’re going to walk down the stairs together. One step at a time. And we’re going to be careful. Got that?”
Amber nodded yes.
“You do everything I tell you to do, and I’ll let you live,” Mr. Murdock told her. “You understand that?”
Amber didn’t answer.
“Answer me,” he hissed into her ear.
She nodded slightly. “Yes,” she said.
“Okay. Start walking – we walk together.”
They left Ryan’s bedroom and moved slowly down the hall to stairs that led down to the first floor. The hall was dark, and she could barely see the steps in front of her because of the duffel bag she was holding. She tried to look down, but the man’s arm was so tight around her neck.
But she managed the descent down the steps; she felt each step with her foot as she stepped down, one by one.
“Jake!” Mr. Murdock yelled from right behind her ear, making her jump a little.
She guessed that Jake was the man she’d seen with the blond woman from the gas station.
But Jake wasn’t answering.
They moved down two more steps, down into the darkness of the first floor. The house was eerily quiet except for the pounding rain outside, and the man’s shouts were loud in Amber’s ears. “Jake! Lita! Where are you?! I’ve got it! Let’s go!”
But Jake and Lita still weren’t answering him.
2.
Ryan moved over to a wall and waited in the darkness, his body hidden from view as he watched a tall man walking Amber down the stairs. Lita had finally stopped moving and her leg had stopped kicking. The gurgling sounds as she tried to breathe had also stopped. Both her body and Victor were hidden from Amber and the man’s view as they slowly made their way down the stairs. He had heard Victor wheezing and trying to catch his breath earlier; he had seen the woman kick Victor in the ribs and in the face – he was pretty sure that Victor had some painful injuries, but he didn’t think they were life-threatening.
Ryan waited in the darkness against the wall and watched the man and Amber take the steps one at a time, very slowly. The man had a gun pointed at Amber’s head and she held the duffel bag of money in front of her. He was using her like a shield.
“Jake! Lita! Let’s go!”
Ryan was pretty sure that this man who held Amber in front of him like a shield was the only one left in the house. Ryan had taken the man and woman out quickly, the two this man called Jake and Lita. And this man seemed to be the leader.
Amber looked scared to death.
Ryan hadn’t wanted it to happen like this. He wanted to give Amber the money so she could leave. But he had made a mistake. He had waited too long.
But he wasn’t going to let this man kill her.
“Let her go,” Ryan said into the darkness from his hiding spot against the wall.
Mr. Murdock and Amber both paused on the steps; the man pulled his gun away from Amber’s head and pointed it straight ahead. Ryan noticed that the man’s gloved hand was trembling and he could tell that the man couldn’t see anything in the darkness; the man was only hoping he was aiming at someone.
“I’ve got a gun to her head,” the man shouted. “I’d be very careful what you do right now.”
Amber and Mr. Murdock were on the last few steps now, almost to the floor. Ryan wished Amber would just force herself forward, maybe they would tumble down together and the man would lose his gun. But she didn’t do that.
“Come out right now!” Mr. Murdock shouted. “Or she gets a bullet in the head.”
Ryan emerged from the shadows with Victor’s gun in his hand; he aimed it at Mr. Murdock.
Mr. Murdock shoved his gun against the side of Amber’s head. “Ryan,” he said and smiled. He even shook his head a little in disbelief. “You’ve been quite a pain in the ass lately.”
“I’m not Ryan,” he told Mr. Murdock.
“Drop your gun,” Mr. Murdock said. “I swear to God, I’ll kill her.”
“You kill her and I’ll carve you up into little pieces,” Ryan growled.
Mr. Murdock took his eyes off of Ryan for a moment and glanced around at the dark living room. “Jake!” he yelled. “Lita! Get out here. Ryan’s in the living room!”
“Jake and Lita aren’t coming,” Ryan said in a cold voice. “They’re both dead.”
Mr. Murdock stared at Ryan like he was trying to decide if he should believe him. He shoved the gun harder against Amber’s head. “Drop your fucking gun or I’m going to put a bullet through her brain.”
Mr. Murdock’s finger tightened on the trigger.
Amber squeezed her eyes shut, ready for the impact.
“Okay,” Ryan said and held Victor’s gun out with two fingers in front of him.
“Throw it away,” Mr.
Murdock growled.
Amber opened her eyes and stared at Ryan, pleading with him with her eyes. It tore him up to see her like this, but he couldn’t risk a chance that this man would shoot her. He didn’t know if he was a good enough shot to kill the tall man before he shot Amber in the head – but he was pretty sure he wasn’t.
Ryan threw the gun into the dark dining room. He heard it hit a piece of furniture, bounce off it, and slide across the wood floor.
“Good boy,” Mr. Murdock said. He pushed Amber forward a little and they worked their way down the last four steps onto the floor. “Now here’s what’s going to happen,” Mr. Murdock said. “Me and the little lady here are going to walk out of here with my money. You just stay right there and I won’t kill you.”
Ryan stared at the large man in the dark clothing. “I’m already dead,” Ryan told him.
“I don’t know what kind of games you’re trying to play, but I’m fucking serious. I want you to throw your car keys by the front door. And then you’re going to let me walk out of here with my money, and then I won’t kill this girl. I swear. I just want my money. That’s all.”
Ryan knew the man was lying. He knew the moment he threw his car keys by the front door that the man would shoot him. And then he’d shoot Amber.
“I’m not Ryan,” Ryan told him.
Mr. Murdock shoved the barrel of his gun harder against Amber’s head. “I don’t know what kind of fucking drugs you’re on -” Mr. Murdock started, but his words were cut off by Carol’s voice.
“He’s not lying,” Carol said as she walked down the dark hall from her den.
Mr. Murdock turned towards Carol and he turned Amber with him at the same time. His arm was still clamped around her neck in a choke-hold. “Who the fuck are you?”
Carol stood at the end of the dark hall and stared at Mr. Murdock, unafraid of the gun pointed at her. “He’s not lying. There’s someone else inside of him, possessing his body. A serial killer named Cutter.”
Mr. Murdock shook his head, not believing what he was hearing. “You people are fucking crazy.” He turned back to Ryan, his gun aimed at Ryan now. “I’m not playing around anymore. I want your car keys by the front door. Now!”
3.
Amber felt the man’s arm slack a little around her neck as he turned from Carol back to Ryan. She knew that this was her only chance if she was going to make her escape. She dropped the duffel bag at her feet.
“What the fuck?” she heard the man scream from behind her.
She didn’t waste another second. She swung her elbow back as hard as she could into the man’s gut, and because he was so much taller than she was, she caught him at the bottom of his belly, a soft area near his bladder. His arm loosened from around her neck and the man crumpled back away from her for a moment, still in pain from the jab of her elbow – it was just enough of a separation for her wrench away from him and dive to the floor.
She didn’t care about the duffel bag of money anymore; all she cared about was getting Ryan out of here.
4.
Ryan watched Amber throw an elbow into the tall man’s gut and dive away from him. This was going to be his only chance, he knew that.
As Mr. Murdock doubled over in pain for a moment from Amber’s elbow jab, Ryan ran the few steps across the room like a possessed linebacker closing in on a quarterback. Mr. Murdock brought his pistol back up, but Ryan slammed into him and smashed his body into the bottom stairs before he could squeeze the trigger. The gun flew out of Mr. Murdock’s hand during the tackle; it landed on the floor and slid away into the darkness.
Mr. Murdock gasped for breath, his face wincing in pain from his back landing on the edge of the wood steps.
Ryan grabbed the tall man by the front of his shirt and slammed him into the stair railing and bannisters, smashing the wood apart. Ryan threw the man through the pieces of broken wood with strength he never knew he had. Mr. Murdock collapsed on the floor among the pieces of wood.
Mr. Murdock struggled back up to his feet much more quickly than Ryan had anticipated.
But it didn’t matter that Mr. Murdock was back on his feet. Ryan already had his straight razor out, the blade opened. He brought the razor down across Mr. Murdock’s face and throat in a diagonal slash. Then he slashed again and again in vicious movements that cut deep into the flesh of the man’s face and throat. Blood gushed out. Mr. Murdock held up a hand in defense, and Ryan sliced off two of the man’s fingers as neatly as if he’d stuck his fingers into a meat-cutting saw.
Mr. Murdock collapsed onto the floor, trying to scream and cry out in pain, but his vocal chords were slashed, and much like his associate Lita, he was drowning in his own blood as it poured into his lungs.
But Ryan didn’t stop; he slashed again and again, until the cuts crisscrossed on Mr. Murdock’s face, until sections of blood-soaked skin fell away from his face in layers.
5.
Amber moved out of the way of Mr. Murdock and Ryan and headed towards the back of the couch for safety. Carol dropped to her hands and knees and picked up Lita’s gun on the floor.
This was it, Carol thought as she held the gun. This was the way it could all be fixed. Her husband, back from the grave, had told her so.
She aimed the gun at the fighting men. Except this wasn’t a fight anymore, it was a slaughter. Ryan slashed and slashed at the man’s face and throat. Pulpy pieces of flesh were scattered everywhere. Blood soaked the wood floor. If Carol ever needed any proof that Cutter was inside of Ryan, this was proof enough now.
She watched as Ryan stood over top of Mr. Murdock. He had finally stopped his savage attack with the straight razor. He was breathing heavily, his back to her, staring down at his mutilated victim on the floor who somehow clung to life, gurgling out his last breaths.
She watched Ryan turn to Amber who cowered by the couch, holding onto it like a woman holding onto a lifeboat in a stormy sea.
“I did it for you!” Ryan yelled at Amber with an insane smile and a killer’s glee in his wide blue eyes. “They will never come after you now. You’ll be free!”
Ryan took a step towards Amber. Mr. Murdock’s blood was streaked across his face.
“Stop right there, Cutter,” Carol said, aiming Lita’s gun at Ryan. She knew how to use a gun, her husband had showed her how when they were first married. The memory caused a split-second moment of nostalgia, but she pushed it away. She knew what she needed to do here; she needed to do what her husband had told her to do.
Ryan froze.
Carol pulled the trigger and shot Ryan in the chest.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
1.
“No!!” Amber screamed. She watched Carol shoot Ryan. She saw the bullet hit him right in the chest and knock him backwards; he fell over the dying man in the dark suit and landed on the floor near him.
Amber rushed across the floor to Ryan and fell down beside him as he clutched at the wound in his chest.
“Get away from him,” Carol growled at Amber.
Amber didn’t listen to the old woman. She held Ryan’s head, cradling it. He stared up at her with his blue eyes that seemed to wonder where he was.
“Ryan,” she said and then cried.
“It’s okay,” he told her in a hoarse voice. “You need to take the money and get out of here.”
“No,” Amber whimpered. “Not without you.”
Carol took a step closer to them, her gun still aimed down at Ryan. “You killed my husband, Cutter,” she said to Ryan as she took another step closer. “You tortured him. You mutilated him.”
Ryan held his hand over the wound on his chest as his blood oozed out between his fingers.
“He didn’t deserve what you did to him,” Carol said as she took another step closer. The gun in her hand shook as her hands trembled.
“Don’t,” Amber said to Carol as she sat in front of Ryan like she was trying to shield him. “Please don’t shoot him again.”
Ryan smiled as a little bit of b
lood leaked out of his mouth. He struggled to sit up so he could stare at Carol in the eye. He had something to tell her. He remembered everything now. He was Cutter and he knew what he had done to his victims – the tortures, the murders. But there was something that Carol needed to know.
“There’s something I need to tell you about your husband,” Ryan said as he sat up.
“Shut up,” Carol said and took another step closer to them.
“He wasn’t just another victim,” Ryan went on. “He wasn’t some random person I selected.”
“Shut up!” Carol said a little louder. “I don’t want to hear your lies!”
“He was my helper,” Ryan said. “He helped me pick out my victims. He helped me torture them. He helped me kill them. All of them.”
“Shut up!”
“I wanted to stop, but he wouldn’t let me. He was my last victim and then I ended it for good.”
“I said, SHUT UP!!”
Carol pulled the trigger again and shot Ryan in the shoulder. The gunshot was only a spit of noise because of the silencer. Amber ducked out of the way just in time, falling down to her side. She turned back to the old woman, afraid to move now, afraid Carol was going to shoot her next.
“Don’t you move, either,” Carol told Amber. “I’ll shoot you, too. There’s only one way out of this. Only one way to send my husband and Cutter back to where they came from. Back to where they belong now.”
Ryan managed to sit up even with the fresh bullet wound in his shoulder, he looked at Amber. “You need to run,” he told her.
“No,” Amber whispered and shook her head no.
“This is the way it needs to be,” he told her.
Carol shot Ryan again in the chest, and the bullet knocked him back down flat to the floor with a thump.
Ryan laid flat on his back and struggled for breath. He stared up at the dark ceiling with wide eyes.