Wayde Woods Massacre

Suzette slowly began to wake. In her drowsiness all the horrors of the previous night seemed pleasantly distant. Part of her wanted to lay there forever, comforted by the cool concrete...concrete?

Suzette made herself wake up, fear instantly setting in. She was in a room with a concrete floor. It was very dark, a small, dirty window by the ceiling being the only source of light. Not only was she in this room, she was trapped inside a cage. Metal bars ran from the floor to the ceiling. It was like a prison cell.

She was about to scream for help, but she stopped herself. There was a staircase by the opposite wall. She didn't want to know what was waiting on the other side.

Carefully she sat back down and tried to think. She had already figured out that whatever had gotten Michael and Fat Bill was human, or at least something similar. And it was more than likely that whoever had killed them was the same being that had kidnapped her. If he had gotten in there to take her, did he kill the others? This thought brought tears to her eyes. But wait, if it kills everyone, why did it kidnap her? Was he going to kill her? Torture her? Rape her? It was getting hard for Suzette to breathe, she felt like screaming but knew that wasn't an option. So she just wept.

Her crying session ended when she suddenly heard footsteps above her. She was immediately silent, more by fear than survival instinct, and peered up at the ceiling as if she could see through the boards. The steps grew a bit louder as they stepped right over her and slightly more silent as they walked away. With a shrill squeak the door to her basement opened, and light flooded the room.

It's coming for me! Suzette thought.

Unsure what to do, Suzette layed back down on the floor as quickly and quietly as possible. With massive booming footsteps, she could hear her captor stomp down the stairs. Her lip was quivering, it took every ounce of strenght to fight back her tears and screams. For her plan to work, she had to appear to still be asleep.

Slowly her captor walked toward her. He stopped once he reached the bars. Her eyes were closed, but she could feel his eyes piercing into her. She could hear his breaths, she could smell his stench. He smelled of rotting flesh and sewage.

The man just stood and stared at her for a few minutes, as she did her best to appear asleep. Eventually he turned and walked away from her. Cautiously, Suzette opened her eyes. He was walking to the far left area of the basement, the darkest area. She could make out some sort of table and other large outlines there, but her sight was limited.

That was, until he lit a gas lamp that was hanging from the ceiling. On the table was the carcass of a deer. Its head was hanging over the table, the dried up tounge sticking out of its mouth. There was a massive hole in its stomache, guts hanging out all over the table. Flies buzzed all over the opening. The man thrust his hand into that opening, ripping out a bloody chunk.

Suzette quickly shut her eyes once again, as her captor turned and walked back toward her cell. She couldn't see what he was doing, but heard the noise of something wet landing on the floor, only a couple feet away from her head. She waited until she heard the man walking back away from her before she opened her eyes again. Lying infront of her face was the chunk out of the deer.

Suzette thought she was going to be sick. She bit her lip, trying to keep herself from puking. The man was back at the deer now. Once again he reached inside and pulled out another chunk, bringing it up to his mouth and eating with loud squishes and rips as the deer meat was torn by teeth. Suzette was so happy that he had his back to her.

The man was massive, his head almost touched the high ceiling. The man had scraggly black hair that swarmed from his head, though the top was covered by the mask he had moved to feast. Though the mask was crumpled, Suzette recognized the style. It was a motorcycle riders mask like the one her father used to own, back before the divorce. It was like a ski mask, though made of a dark brown leather, two large cut outs for the eyes but none for the nose or mouth. Just three small circular holes running vertically from nose to mouth to breathe out of. That's why her dad had gotten rid of his, it made breathing difficult. He wore a faded camoflauged hunting jacket that was caked in dried blood and dirt. As were his pants which were a dark brown. It all came down to gigantic black boots that could squash Suzette like a cockroach.

Finally this beast of a man finished his meal and pulled his leather mask back down. He walked over to another table and picked up a hunting knife which he slid into a sheathe and hooked onto his pants. Then he picked up another weapon. This one was obviously homemade. The item was a long, thin, metal pole. Bolted to the end of it, running parallel to the pole, was a saw blade. Suzette's captor used a finger to lightly spin the saw blade. With that, he walked back up the stairs and shut the door.

The tears flowed from Suzette's eyes once again.