The Sound of Laughter

There was only one rule: Don’t open the door.

Randy was never one for following rules. From the time he was a child, he did things his way. He never thought about consequences or the personal wellbeing or property of others; he just laughed it off. Every time he got suspended; he laughed. When he got in trouble at home, he laughed. His parents were only too happy to kiss him goodbye when he moved out on his 18th birthday.

When he and his buddy, Steve, were awarded the job of cleaning up the old farmer’s property, he agreed to the rules in the contract; but when he came across the ancient shed with the “Do Not Enter” sign, not only did he open the door, he kicked it in.

Steve was horrified. The inside of the shed looked like a torture chamber. There were knives, axes, saws. There was a blood-splattered chair attached to a wooden frame with shackles for wrists and ankles. There was a hanging noose.

Randy just laughed. Even the smell didn’t bother him. The godawful stench emanating from the shed caused Steve to purge his breakfast. With a grin, Randy stepped inside.

While rummaging through the shed, badgering a defiant Steve to come inside, a sudden gust slammed the door shut, trapping Randy. In the pitch black, Randy heard horrendous screams outside, screams that sounded like they were coming from Steve. As he struggled to find his way through the darkness, the door blew open again.

The last thing Randy saw was the glint of the axe blade in the blinding sun. The last thing he heard was the sound of laughter. This time, it wasn’t his own.