The screen door was shredded, waving in the evening breeze. Raj went first, carefully peeking inside, and saw nothing. Beth checked Sam’s car, then followed him in.
The living room made Raj falter, choke back vomit. The walls were sprayed with blood, furniture overturned, windows broken. Birds were eating off the kitchen counter.
“Jesus…” Beth whispered, close behind.
Sam was sprawled across the collapsed coffee table. Or at least it was probably Sam. His chest, face, and neck were torn apart like some massive animal wanted to make a nest with his skin. His hands were mangled, it was hard to tell if he was missing fingers.
“Oh my god,” Raj trembled. “Oh my god, what the hell happened?”
“Shh!” Beth hissed, checking around corners carefully. Raj nodded, grabbed a knife off the counter, held it ready. They moved silently, stepping around broken glass and blood.
A pair of sparrows on the mantle watched them with silent curiosity.
The door to the bathroom was hacked apart, and it swung open easily. Blood on the tile wall, but no sign of Laura. They backed out, turned the lights off as they went.
The master bedroom was empty, untouched, and oddly calming. Raj let out a shaky breath, gripped the door frame for support, and Beth caught him under his arm before he fainted.
“Deep breaths,” she whispered.
“I’m breathing,” he nodded.
“Take a minute.”
He shook his head and pushed open the guest bedroom door. Then he collapsed.
When came to, Beth was crouched over him, waving air into his face. He gagged, sat up halfway, rubbed his eyes.
“I said ‘breathe’,” Beth said.
“Sorry.”
He glanced over at the bed again, and fought back the nausea. Laura was spread on the blood-soaked covers, shredded like Sam, but deeper, meaner, and more horribly. Her head was nearly detached from her neck, her mouth hanging open in a wretched scream. Her hands were cut clean off, on the floor close to him. Protecting her.
“We need to call the police,” Raj said, making no move to do so.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Beth corrected.
“Beth, this is serious. We need to tell someone before—”
“We’ll call in an anonymous tip. But there’s no way in hell we’re staying around. This isn’t our problem.”
“But they’re—”
“Raj, shut up and think. How easy do you think it’s going to be to get a job if word gets out that the police are asking you about a murder?”
“But I—”
“You think that matters? Listen, there’s got to be a pay phone on the way back into town. We’ve got to leave before it gets dark. Now come on.”
She carefully walked out through the living room, leaving him there in the doorway. He stared at Laura, her hands on the floor, the horrible, metallic smell in the air. He couldn’t breathe in here. It was too terrible.
He sat silent in the car the whole way home, watching the trees blur past the passenger seat window. Beth left the radio off, made no move to talk either.
The hardest part wasn’t the blood, or the savagery, or even the death. The hardest part was finally noticing Laura’s blue swimsuit.
