The Pits (Part 8)

Looking down at the stairs, Max wondered how he was going to get to the next floor without being noticed. They were made of wood, probably from the trees from the forest surrounding the house. And, seeing as how the rest of the house looked several decades old, the stairs were probably very creaky. He tried to think back to when the old man went up the stairs in the few minutes before when Max heard what sounded like Gio begging for help. Did the stairs make any noises when he went up them? In his panic upon realizing Gio was still alive, albeit apparently in a lot of pain, Max wasn’t listening to anything other than his friend’s cries.

            ‘I guess it doesn’t matter. I have to get up there one way or another. And the more I think about it the less chance Gio has of survival.’ Max lightly placed his right foot on the first step, slowly putting his weight on it. The old wood made no noise. ‘Maybe if I just climb up slowly I can surprise this bitch?’

            At that moment, there was a sound of something landing on the floor above and rolling around. Max registered that—whatever it was—it was made of some kind of metal as it made a distinctive ting upon impact. ‘Fuck it…’

            Summoning all of the courage he had Max walked up the stairs with his back along the wall to his left. The stair made creaking sounds like he expected they wood, but he no longer cared. Though, he did notice his heart being faster with every step he took. When he got to the top Max’s ears were filled with the pounding of his heart; his peripheral vision being clouded with a similar kind of static old televisions produced when they weren’t on the right channel. For a second, he thought he could even hear the static. Until he realized the sound was something heavy being dragged across the floor. The noise was coming from the room around the left corner and down the hallway from his current position. Max stared down the dark hallway, then down to the table in front of him. There was a crystal ball sitting on a small purple cushion among pictures of what looked like a younger version of the old man, and two women who may have been the murderous geezer’s sisters. ‘I wonder if they were lunatics, too, or if he killed them first.’

Max picked up the crystal ball with both hands, holding it close to his chest as he walked down the hallway to the rooms at the far end. There were two: one directly ahead with a large lock on the knob that sported a keyhole and a number pad with glowing numbers—the only obvious technology in the house, and a room to the right. The door on the right was open. It must have been a big room as the man was still dragging…whatever it was across the room, seemingly past where Max was standing in the hallway.

‘Just look in,’ Max thought to himself. ‘If it’s not Gio, go back downstairs and hide in the vent.’

Trembling, Max closed the distance between him and the open door, slowly leaning forward to peer inside. The room was only a little bit lighter than the hallway, but at least he could see more. The room was smaller than Max first imagined it to be, but there was another doorway at the other side of the room. It was closed. And, as he entered, for the first time Max realized there was a distinctive smell that seemed to emanate from that side of the room. As he got further into the room the smell intensified. ‘Please tell me this guy doesn’t eat roadkill.’ He said to himself. Max stopped, looking around the room. There were much better weapons to use against this guy hanging on the walls. Hammers, electric saws, a chainsaw in one of the corners, and a bathtub full of dirty, brown water with a car battery and jumper cables sitting on a cart next to it. ‘This guy’s gangster.’ Max admitted, although he wasn’t sure he’d like to find out how gangster the killer could be.

There was a sudden gasping sound from beyond the door to the other room followed by coughing. Coughing that sounded like someone was exhaling large amounts of water after being resuscitated from drowning. It started Max. Millions of thoughts ran through his mind; the most prominent one being ‘When did he drown Gio? I didn’t hear any water splashing.’ Remembering that his friend may have been knocked unconscious only minutes ago, Max decided Gio wasn’t awake when he was drowned, and couldn’t fight back.

‘I’m fucking DONE with this,’ Max thought. He held the crystal ball out in front of him and dropped it onto the wooden floor. He then walked over to the large sledge hammer hanging on the wall and waited.