Want.

The first thing I noticed was that I was in a creepy-as-fuck gigantic house. The second thing I noticed was blood.
It was everywhere, and when I say everywhere, I mean everywhere. On the furniture, on the carpet, on desk tops, all over the place. I usually didn't mind blood, but too much makes me nauseous.
I walked carefully down the hallway, slipping every now and again but always catching myself on something.
The house was way too quite for my liking, and I wanted to call out but my voice failed me. I walked, peering into a random room once in a while. Blood was fucking everywhere. I was growing more nauseous by the second.
I stepped into a room, slipped like the clumsy fucker I am, and fell into the biggest pool of blood I had seen yet. I scrambled to my feet, raced to the nearest closet, and puked my guts out. I collapsed against the door frame, breathing heavily. I wiped the vomit from my mouth and stood again, walking quicker than before to get out of the room.
There was such a terrible, off feeling to this house. It wasn't just because of all the blood, which, to be honest, was starting to scare the shit out of me, but something just felt off.
"If this is a prank, it ain't funny!" I called. Boom.
Holy fuck, what the hell was that?! I whirled around a couple of times, nothing was there. I slipped into the nearest room and shut the door and locked it. Closing my eyes, I leaned against the wall. I rested for a few moments before I realized it felt as if someone was with me. Scared, I open my eyes and almost screamed like a fucking girl.
There, in the middle of the floor, lying in a pool of his own blood, was Ray. Tears came instantly as I threw myself down over him, sobbing helplessly.
Not Ray, please, oh God, please not Ray. "FUCK!" I screamed, sobbing even harder. Boom!
I froze, my sobs residing as I looked around. Still, no one. I squeezed Ray's hand, silently promising I would come back, and left the room, making sure to close the door all the way.
I walked faster, checking every room in case somebody else was in there. I looked and looked, but it seemed as if no one was there. I glanced quickly at a room and walked by before I saw something. I carefully walked back and stepped into the room, scared of what I was about to face.
I turned and extremely slowly, I opened my eyes. I dropped to my knees immediately, sobbing again.
"No, not Mikey. Oh God, no, no, no, no, no. Mikey, please don't be bullshitting me, please be alive. Mikey, please fucking answer me!" Boom!
"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?! WHY ME?! WHY MY FRIENDS, HUH?!" I turned my head to the ceiling. "ANSWER ME! FUCKING PROVE TO ME THAT THERE'S A GOD AND MAKE MY FRIENDS COME BACK!" Boom!
FUCK. Not again with this shit. Leaning down, I kissed Mikey's bloody cheek, silently promising I'd come back, and left.
I fucking sprinted down the corridor looking in every room as I went. Empty, empty, blood, empty, blood, and more blood. I sobbed openly, not caring if I fell down 20 flights of stairs and died. Two of my best friends were gone, what the fuck did I have to live for now?
Gerard. I stopped dead in my tracks, thinking hard. I still had Bob and Gerard. I couldn't kill myself now, not when they were alive. I began running again.
I ran until I saw a blur of blue and blond in a room. Bob. I walked silently, not even giving myself time to prepare for what I knew was to come. I looked to see Bob, lying in blood, his arms twisted at a painful position. I gagged.
I wanted to stay, to bring Ray and Mikey in here and just stay, but I couldn't. I had to find Gerard, he had to be safe. I kissed Bob's cheek and walked off.
I didn't dare scream or yell this time, afraid that whoever or whatever was killing my friends would hear and take off. No, I need to find it and kill it before it got to Gerard.
I ran until a reached a dead end with several flights of stairs to the right. I raced up them immediately, running faster than I thought possible.
I ran and ran and ran until I heard someone laughing viciously behind me. I came to a halt and whirled around. I saw a man, no older than 30, standing with a gun in hand. He has thing, bald, and had eyes black as coal and as evil as Satan himself. I opened my mouth to yell, but he interrupted.
"Now now, Frankie, you wouldn't want your last friend dead, would you?" He cooed.
I gave him a quizzical look and he laughed again.
"You don't even know what's going on, do you?" His face turned into a snarl as I began to open my mouth. He whipped out his gun and aimed it at a corned in the room.
I saw a black haired, pale, scared boy look at me. Gerard.
I choked back any words that were threatening to leave my throat. Slowly, the bald man lowered his gun and turned to me, a demonic smirk on his face.
"Aw, poor baby Fwankie! Scawed his wittle boyfriend is gonna die!" He mocked me in a child's voice. I glared.
"Now, before I kill both of you, would you like me to explain?" I nodded.
"Very well. You see, I'm solely doing this because it brings me pleasure to see people in pain. I'm a sick twisted man, yes, but I can't help myself. I figured, well, he loves these people very much, why no kill them? And so here I am, and there you two are, about to die,"
I glanced over at Gerard. "F-frankie," He whispered. Boom!
"GERARD!" I screamed. I turned to the bald man, going for his gun.
"Did you really think you could stop me?! I'd like to see you try!" He spat. He kicked me in the groin, and as I was doubled over in pain, he aimed his gun.
"Goodbye, Frankie," He smiled, and the last thing I remembered was a sharp-shooting pain and then nothingness.