He instantly became enraged after seeing the unexpected surprise and clenched his fist with all of his strength. He quietly walked around the silver knight standing next to the living room entrance and silently pulled open the glass door of the cabinet. He carefully took one of the medieval swords he collected out of its holder, wiped the sword clean from dust with the silk handkerchief he carried in his pants pocket, and walked in to the living room. He stood there staring at his wife with anger, who was completely unaware that her husband was home. He quickly grabbed the maintenance man by his hair as hard as he can and lifted him off of the couch. “You don’t belong here!” he screamed as loud as he could, and decapitated the young man’s head off in front of his wife, Margaret. He then reached over the arm of the couch and grabbed the top of his wife’s head, and almost ripped her hair out as he yanked her over the arm of the couch. He stared at the whites of her eyes in total and uncontrolled rage. He listened to her screaming for forgiveness and raised his sword as high as he could in the air. “You must be punished!” he screamed at her. “You must be punished!” he screamed again slicing her head off like he was cutting through a fresh pineapple. He held on to the top of her head, and watched the blood from her body drain down the side of the couch to the floor.

Silence fell through out mansion for a moment. He threw his wife’s head against the fireplace, and smashed it against the old stone like a pumpkin. John took a deep breath and tried to calm down. When he exhaled, he could see his breath in the air as though it was freezing inside the mansion. His forehead was soaked from sweat as his body shook uncontrollably. He looked in the mirror hanging above the end table, and saw his eyes blood-shot red from the evil madness that consumed him.

They came up to the old wrought iron gate just a few minutes walk off the road from where the black top ended. It had been locked by the police since 1905, when the town’s first murder took place of Margaret, the millionaire’s wife and her lover all those years before.

They squeezed through the gate opening, and slowly walked across the yard toward the old mansion. They looked at the broken windows reflecting off the moon light, and heard the tree branches as they flapped against the mansion walls in the harsh wind.

Lainey was an attractive but shy eighteen-year old, with soft hazel eyes, stick straight, long brown hair tied back in a ponytail to keep it away from her face. She graduated from school with high honors to please her parents, and hoped they would send her away to college to get a master’s degree in criminal justice.

Lainey was scared more than anything, but Adam, a guy Lainey liked but still had mixed feelings about, was getting excited. He could feel his hormones and emotions going crazy just thinking about his body against hers every step he made to the door.

He put his foot on the staircase and sank into a puddle on the step and then felt the cold water soak through his sneaker. Suddenly Lainey snapped her hand away from him and held herself back feeling much too afraid to go in.

“What’s the matter? It’s only a building, it won’t hurt you,” Adam said.

“This place is haunted,” Lainey cried. “I’ve heard the stories from the folks around town; about the murders here long ago. People went in, but they never came out. They’re missing because of this place. I don’t like it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just an old broken-down building. Come on.”

Lainey was still hesitant to go, but she took the first step up on the staircase. She looked up at the dark and dreary mansion, searching for anything moving in the broken windows. She made her last step up the stairs and nervously stood in front of the doorway.