Hughes Mansion. Now.
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Time stood still. The killer's laughter gave way to heavy, distorted breathing as he sized up his prey, looking from one kid to the next; his antlers casting an ominous shadow on the wall, his axe lodged in the hardwood floor.
Stephanie's gaze was fixed on Tiffany's corpse, now lying on the floor with her limbs at impossible angles; her right arm extended, as if she was trying to reach for her glasses...
The Sheriff's daughter swallowed and took a deep breath. Warm blood and jasmine wasn't exactly the best combination of smells, but her brain needed the oxygen. There was a single thought on her mind.
"Miles..." she turned to look toward the living room.
The killer reached for his axe.
"Steph, run!" Norman yelled.
"But--"
"RUN! I've got Miles-- Go warn the others!"
Stephanie wouldn't have to be told a third time. She gave Norman a nod, grabbed a frozen Priscilla, and started running up the stairs, as the Linebacker made a beeline to the living room to retrieve her wounded fiancé.
"LeAvinG so SooN?" the killer rested his axe on his shoulder and picked up Tiffany's dead body. "DoN't yOu wAnNa sAy Hi to yOuR fRieNd?" he held her by the neck and bobbed her head back and forth like a ventriloquist's dummy. "HeY, StEph! LoOk! No gUts! HaR-hAr-HaR-hAr-HaAaR!"
Stephanie didn't look back.
"Please tell me you're not stoned." she turned to a distraught Priscilla, as the both of them climbed up the steps two at a time; each one gripping the other's hand like their lives depended on it.
"Well, not anymore!" Priscilla blurted, gesturing toward the foyer; her eyes wide with horror.
"Good. Come on, we gotta hurry."
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Amber's bedroom.
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>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ug1qRiLUwacDerek was lying on the king-size bed with a goofy smile on his face, surrounded by a sea of pillows and teddy bears; one hand behind his head and the other one stuffed down his jeans.
Amber was dancing at the far side of the room, doing a naughty little cheer number designed especially for her boyfriend; jumping and bending and jiggling all over the place.
"Whoa, babe-- I don't know what you did, but your tits look extra stupendous tonight!"
He wasn't wrong. Amber's top was so tight, so stretched, struggling to contain her full D cups, that you could barely make out the NFHS logo embroidered on the front; its seams moaning in protest. She always strategically ordered her cheerleading uniforms one size too small, but tonight was something else.
"You're not stuffing, are you...?"
"No, silly-- I'm on the pill! The box, like, mentioned 'some swelling might occur' or some junk." Amber chuckled, delighted at her beau's reaction.
She took off her top with some effort, twirled it around her finger and tossed it at him; her pink lace bra overflowing with boob flesh.
"Wanna, like, get a closer look...?" she arched her back; a mischievous grin on her face.
*SNAP!*
