"Don't blame me, dude, I was buzzed! She said something about making things right..."
"Crap..."
"Uh, girls..." Norman interrupted.
"What is it...?"
"Phone's dead."
"Dead? What do you mean it's dead?"
"It's dead-- it won't even dooot."
"I've got a bad feeling about this..." Stephanie jumped off her chair. "First Make-Out Point is full of bear traps and the path to Walter's is blocked off by razor wire, and now the phone's dead..."
"Well, maybe the storm fried the phone... And maybe Walter's getting, uh, more Walter-y... and he doesn't want any visitors...?" Priscilla tried to rationalize.
"Walter's just a little eccentric, he's not a psychopath. He would never put us in danger like that."
"Steph's right, Walter's a good dude. Something else is going on here..." Norman said.
"Okay, game plan." Stephanie twisted her toothbrush to tighten her bun. "You guys get everybody downstairs, and I'm gonna go look for Tiffany. Tell Amber to search her mom's stash for any painkillers and antibiotics she can find, and look for her dad's DynaTAC."
"You sure?" Priscilla asked.
"I'm not sure about anything right now, no." Stephanie readied her flashlight and turned to leave.
"I'm coming with you." Norman followed her to the foyer.
"No. Derek's gonna be all boner-hazed and Spencer's got trouble lifting his own books, most of he time. You gotta stay here and hold down the fort-- protect everybody. Just lock the door and wait for me."
Norman gave her a stern nod.
"Be careful out there."
Stephanie placed her hand on the doorknob.
"I'll try."
*CRASH!*
The front door swung open. Stephanie caught a faceful of oak and landed on her butt.
"HeLLo, StEphaNie."
>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G_Dtn9V7SWQA lightning struck somewhere in the distance. The towering figure on the porch cast a terrible shadow all the way down the foyer, for a split second. Stephanie propped herself up on her elbow and pointed her flashlight at the visitor, regretting it instantly. He was almost seven feet tall, wearing a skin-tight baby blue tracksuit with hot pink details; thick veins running up and down his arm as he effortlessly twirled the giant fire axe glinting in his hand. He was a mountain of meat. The beam of the flashlight climbed higher and higher for what felt like hours; shaking in Stephanie's trembling hand as she instinctively started crawling backwards. When the light hit his face, she was met with Buster's nasty grin instead; Mayor Hughes' botched attempt at taxidermy had never looked more horrifying.
"LoOkiNg foR tHis?" the man brought his free hand into frame; his voice raspy, distorted, robotic.
Stephanie pointed her flashlight to the left.
Tiffany stared back at her. Her lifeless body was dangling in the air like a horrible wind chime, her insides crawling out of a hole in her stomach, slithering down the porch and painting it red; the look of fear forever branded on her face.
