David Whitman by DeadFellas

Author:DeadFellas
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Darkside Digital
Published: 0100-12-31T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5: Tim Two, The Scary Bitch, And The Bastard

Tim heard someone talking downstairs. He slipped quietly to the broken door, a gun in each hand, and listened. A drop of sweat fell from his brow and into the puddle of sticky blood below with an audible plop. Moving as one with the flickering shadows, he stepped through the broken door and into the hallway.

He almost screamed out loud when he saw the woman at the end of the hall. It was all he could do to keep from emptying his guns at her. Instead, he waited.

Lime’s mistress stood like a statue, her doll-like eyes staring past Tim into the dim hallway beyond. An icy smile creased her full red lips. She held an obscenely long knife clutched in her left hand, her delicate white fingers wrapped tightly around the pearl handle. She looked like a feral Betty Page. Her perfectly parted dark hair hung to her shoulders. She eyed Tim ferociously, seemingly ready to attack.

But Tim knew she was frozen stiff, just like the rest of the loonies and crazies lurking around the house. The voices from the first floor drew him forward and he carefully inched his way past the frozen madwoman.

“God, if you are there, please, please don’t unfreeze her ass until I go by,” Tim whispered as he walked, too scared to appreciate the irony in a hitman praying to God.

Passing Lime’s mistress—who he had dubbed The Scary Bitch in his mind—he hugged the wall, sliding by her with breath held, his eyes squinting as though she was a ticking bomb. For a moment he considered snatching away the knife, but decided against it, fearing she might spring to life.

By the time he reached the elaborately carved balcony, the voices were clear. Ducking down in the shadows, keeping one eye on Lime’s mistress behind him, he peered into the gloom downstairs.

Below were exact replicas of himself and Francis, arguing in front of the massive and cracked grandfather clock. Splattered with blood, the doubles looked haggard and tired.

“We can’t just keep fighting these doubles, Timmy,” the Francis-double said. “Fuckers are everywhere. We need to figure out a way to get out of here. I’m about five minutes away from completely losing my bloomin’ mind.”

The Tim-double chuckled. “Francis, in case you haven’t noticed, we don’t have a choice in the matter. They are attacking us.”

“Don’t play word games, Timmy. You know what I meant. We’re going to have to make another break for it.”

Tim-Two looked at his watch. “We have a bit of a wait until sunrise, partner. I suggest we go upstairs and hole up in one of the bedrooms.”

Tim felt a rush of adrenaline at the last statement. No way he would be able to handle the both of them.

Francis walked over to one of the windows. “Why don’t they come inside, you think? They just wait out there for us to come out.”

Tim-Two sighed and started to move up the steps. “It’s a scary thought to think they can come in at any moment.

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