A Bad Horror Story

Lawrence Cally is a serial killer. He has been killing for a long time, and hopes to continue killing for a long time more. He enjoys the rush of power he feels when his victims beg him to stop, when they plead and cry. He enjoys the thrill of anticipation as he hunts them through his horror house, rigged with traps just for them. He enjoys picturing the way they will die when he sees them for the first time, picturing the way the their happy smiles turn to screams of fear and pain. But even he is getting sick of this idiot.

Ollie. His name is Ollie. Or at least, that is what his student id reads. A student at the local tertiary college, Ollie had wondered up to his door and knocked, explaining to the baffled old Lawrence that he'd heard all the rumours about him and had wanted to come up and introduce himself.

"I love horror movies, I love criminal documentaries, and I really want to know if you actually have ever hurt anyone." He'd blabbered on, talking faster and faster as Lawrence stood and stared at him. He'd let him go, that first time, just closing the door in his face as he talked. Lawrence had thought he'd been trying to trick him, but the idiot had come back. Knocking on the door again. Grinning and chirping a happy greeting when he'd opened it.

"You know, most people keep away when they hear about a dangerous neighbour."

"Oh, not me. I used to be friends with the excon in my old neighbourhood, he was a felon, tried to rob a bank, killed a bank teller, you know. He wasn't so bad, told a lot of bad bank robbing jokes, pointed a gun at my head a few times and..." He kept going, talking on and on. Lawrence had been tempted to shut the door in his face, but it was late at night, the boy had just finished his classes and found his dorm room with a tie around the handle and had decided to take a walk but saw his house and made a spur of the moment decision to come and visit. Lawrence nearly had to close his mouth.

"Come in, we can talk over a cup of tea."

And Ollie had just walked in. Sat on his sofa, thanked him for the tea, never questioned why it took him so long to make or why it had an odd smell. He'd been smiling as he passed out. Finally, Lawrence thought. A moment of quiet. He dragged the boy down to his basement, tying him to one of the pillar beams with old rope, and gagging him.

He'd woken a few hours later, as Lawrence had been setting up his favourite tools. He'd thought his next kill would be one of the teenagers that would sit in the park across the road, but here he was with another college student. Looks like those kids were off the hook for a few months. He tried not to kill college students, especially ones from nearby, knowing they would be missed, but this one was almost literally asking for it. Usually, his victims were homeless people, they got a lot down by the docks on the other side of town, and Lawrence had a big van and a promising tone when he approached.

"Welcome back, Ollie," he said, watching gleefully as Ollie struggled against his bindings, muffled words through his gag, "we're going to have some fun, you and I." Ollie went still, but didn't look upset in the slightest. He began trying to talk, quite animatedly, and seemed...excited? Lawrence removed the gag and was shocked when the boy chattered happily away at him.

"Oh this is great! You've got a great set up here, I really like the attention to detail, you've got the crazy eyes, the bloody tools, the hooks and rats, this is brilliant! I feel like you should be wearing a mask though, you know, I can see you're face." Ollie prattled on, and Lawrence was left once again dumbfounded by his lack of comprehension. This idiot has been drugged, kidnapped, and has been watching him set up his torture equipment, and was happy about it. What in the world?

Lawrence sighed, and put the gag back in his mouth. He stood, stretching his back and grimacing as he heard the pops and cracks that came with getting older. He went back to his table, and picked up a small blade, his favourite, one he named Eileen. His Eileen, small and sharp, ready to cut into the flesh of his -- no, their victims. As he turned around, he found Ollie standing, rubbing his wrists.

"No offense, I totally love all of this, but you should probably work on your knotwork, that was easy. Next time try a single column knot. That should work. I could show you, if you want. That way you're next victim won't escape." Lawrence sighed again.

"Sit back down, Ollie." But Ollie didn't sit back down, he just kept talking. And talking. And talking. Lawrence felt his patience wear thin, his anger bubbling just beneath the surface. He wanted to see his blood run over his pale skin, he wanted to see tears streaming down his face and hear him beg for his life. He did NOT want to hear the benefits of a good single column knot and how to achieve it.

"SHUT UP!" Ollie didn't. Lawrence, patience now gone, swung small Eileen at him, the shiny blade slicing open his arm. The boy shut up, finally, and looked at Lawrence in surprise.

"Hey, nice shot. Hurts, like a lot, but isn't going to do any serious damage. Nice." Lawrence swung again, and this time, Ollie had the sense to duck. He was still grinning, but edging towards the door. Ah, Lawrence thought, this idiocy is a play, an attempt to distract me so he can run.

The boy did run, sprinted up the stairs, though he'd only made it up three or four before he fell. Lawrence had just started to give chase, and had stopped and stared at him, almost disappointed. He liked his chase to last a little longer than that. Ollie grinned, apologised, then got back up and continued running. Lawrence just sighed in irritation, before running after him. When he got to the stairs however, he realised he'd made a vital mistake. He'd left the front door wide open. He ran faster, hoping to catch the boy before he reached it, but had to actually stop in surprise when the boy sprinted right past it.

Lawrence walked over to the door, looked outside, saw no-one, and swung it shut and sliding the bolt into place. He turned to see Ollie trying all the windows, which were shut and locked, and almost had to go and help him when he struggled with the living room doors. Sighing again, he strolled up behind him just as Ollie got the doors open, Eileen digging into the wood as he ducked right on time. Lawrence pulled his knife from the door, and groaned inwardly. He didn't like to damage his house during his hunt.

Ollie had now made it to the back door, pulling on it and swearing when it didn't budge. Lawrence whistled, enjoying the nervous look the had finally made an appearance on his face. He was sweating, and shaking slightly, though he again offered a smile.

"Good job keeping your windows locked, my old neighbour always forgot to lock them." This left Lawrence confused. Did he think this was a game? Did his old felon neighbour play cat and mouse with this boy? Ollie had started to run again, this time heading for the stairs, though why he would want to go further into the house baffled Lawrence, who had been hoping he would head into the sitting room, which is where his favourite trap had been set up. But apparently Ollie realised going upstairs was a mistake and opted for the door next to the stairs. The door that led back down to the cellar. The cellar, where Ollie had just escaped from. Lawrence stood for a second, wondering if the boy was on something, or really just that stupid.

He followed, dragging Eileen over lightly over the walls into the basement, which he'd never put wallpaper on for this very reason. Ollie looked back up at him briefly, grinning.

"Nice touch. That is very intimidating." Lawrence dropped Eileen back by his side and just watched as Ollie fell down the final few steps and dropped back into the cellar. He took a second to gather his thoughts, hearing as Ollie cluttered and banged around in the cellar. He walked down the final steps and watched in genuine surprise as Ollie wiggled his way through the broken cellar window.

"Shit!"

Racing back upstairs, Lawrence once again thought that perhaps Ollie was using idiocy to throw him off, but when he cleared around the corner of the house, he saw the Ollie was still struggling to pull himself through the window. He strolled over and kicked him back down into the cellar. Just as Lawrence turned around to go back inside, he saw Ollie jump back up and try again to pull himself though the window, despite know that he was still there.

Again, Lawrence kicked him back down. Again, Ollie jumped back up and tried to escape. Lawrence kicked him down a third time. Ollie began gearing up to jump up a fourth time, but Lawrence stopped him.

"Ollie. Ollie. Stop. I'm still here, I'm just going to kick you back down again. Stop." Ollie stared up at him for a second, before slowly nodding. He turned and ran up the stairs. Lawrence turned and walked back around the house, but not before he heard the student slam into the stairs again. He shook his head in defeat. At this point, he wondered if Ollie would be able to escape if he just stopped chasing him.

Coming around to the, once again, open front door, he watched as Ollie, once again, barreled past. He tried all the same windows and doors he did the first time, struggled with the living room door, same as he did the first time, and rattled the back door. Just like the first time. Lawrence sighed. He was sick of it now, Ollie was taking the fun out of it. He stalked up behind him, and stabbed him in the head.

The boy fell to the ground with a thump and Lawrence just sighed. This had been the most unsatisfying kill he'd ever managed. Looks like those teenagers in the park weren't off the hook just yet. He sighed, staring down at Ollie as he bled all over the floor. A bunch of cleaning up for nothing. He sighed, before leaning down to pick him up with a grunt and muttering into the boys ear.

"Thanks for the advice, Ollie. The next one won't get away."