Liars Into Lessons Part 2

I carefully set the glass down on the welcome mat and roll my eyes at how cheery it is. Welcome to our home! It never fails to surprise me just how brainless people can be. Reaching into my pocket I pull out my tools and get to work on the simple deadbolt. I lean heavily against the doorjam while I work, swaying on my feet every so often like I'm drunk and struggling to get my keys to cooperate. It's dark on the "porch" that runs the length of the building, my liars having turned off the light once everyone arrived home and went to bed for the night. So stupid, leaving themselves open like this with a welcome mat that invites anything in, let alone a humanoid monster.

Shaking my head as the lock disengages, I stow my tools back in my pocket and grab up the pint glass. I'm in the door just as quickly and silently as I picked the lock, slipping it closed behind me and turning the bolt again. Wouldn't do to make things easy for them. I take in the small living room to the right and the hallway that leads to the kitchen off it to the downstair's closet and finally the stairs. Part of me really wants to get straight to it. Just start painting the walls as blood mist fogs the air around me, but I know from experience that dragging it out makes it more fun.

Setting my pint glass down in front of the door I weigh my options, debating where to start first: upstairs or sabotaging the downstairs.

It doesn't take much thought for me to forego climbing the stairs. Instead, I begin rearranging the living room so the television is on the far wall and the couch across from it. I move the coffee table so it's blocking the straight shot from the kitchen to the front door. I scatter the shoes piled neatly to the right of the front door at the base of the stairs. One thing monsters like me learn early on if they want to keep hunting is that prey never expects their home to be rearranged before shit goes sideways. Sure, I could just move things a few inches out of place, but why go small when I could go big?

I make my way into the kitchen next. There isn't much I can mess with in here besides moving the kitchen table so it blocks the small entrance between the cut-through counter and the attached dining room. After a few minutes spent surveying the disarray of the countertops and the dirty dishes piled high in the sink, I sigh. It seems they're filthy fuckers regardless of where they live. Deciding to make it difficult for them to find weapons as one will likely haul ass downstairs to the kitchen, I clean the dishes and declutter the countertops. Going one step further as to switch all the food cabinets with the plates and silverware and pots and pans, I begrudgingly admit to myself that perhaps the kitchen wasn't a hopeless case after all.

It takes extra time I don't necessarily have, but it's worth it. I'm known for my psychological games, after all. May as well make the last one my liars will be part of a good one.

Once done, I move back through the hallway to the living room and eye the stairs before checking the windows downstairs to make sure they're locked. Finally, deeming I've finished my downstairs prep, I grab up the pint glass and make for the stairs, careful to avoid the scattered shoes at their base.

I slowly climb the stairs being mindful of the areas where they squeak at the second to last stair before the mid-landing and the middle of the fourth stair from the top landing. I'm upstairs in the long hallway in a matter of minutes, staring at four closed doors and debating which to go through first. My fingers clench on the pint glass, wanting to make for the left door and my main targets but I hesitate. I know their reactions to sudden screams and an intruder, it's the other two I'm unsure of. Frowning as I click my tongue ring against the backs of my teeth I huff a silent put-upon sigh and turn right, aiming for the last door on the left. I ignore the door at the very end of the hallway though. I know the occupant is a heavy sleeper and so long as I take the first out quietly I should go undetected until I'm ready.

Putting the glass on the floor so both my hands are free, I test the handle and find it unlocked. Rolling my eyes yet again at the stupidity of my liars, I turn the handle. Slowly pushing the door open, I stand in the doorway and watch the sleeping form on the bed. That slow vicious smile from before twisting my lips, I cough pointedly once, just loud enough for this liar to sit bolt upright and catch sight of me backlit by the hallway's nightlight. As he stutters out a confused, "What the hell?" I step into the room, close the door behind me, and lock it. The darkness of the room is all consuming but I can see him clearly despite the lack of light.

"Who's on whose shit list now?" I answer and close the distance before he even has time to draw breath to gasp.