Noah had made it to the porch, where the anomalous man stood. The man remained at the door; waiting patiently, and knocking every now and then. He seemed ... half dead. 

His entire body was doused in blood. Noah loitered behind him, keeping the knife behind his back. The man seemed to have a malicious presence. Why was he here today? He did look quite familiar, but the blood and wounds had shrouded his normal look. The man, Tim, slowly looked over his shoulder such that he was looking right at Noah.

Noah had jumped a bit, but hadn't moved. He kept his distance, still holding his knife behind his back.

Tim asked, "Are you Ash's kid or nephew or whatever? I can't remember his face ..."

Noah had fumbled. "Of course not, weirdo. That would be Noah. I'm Stan, and I'm here to give Noah something," Noah peered closely at him, "I've never seen you here before. Who are you?"

Tim continued looking over his shoulder. "I'm a friend of Ash and Dianne. I'm just here to say hi ..."

Noah scrutinized him. The blood in which he was engulfed remained striking to the eye. "What about your clothes? W-what's up with that?"

Tim leered; dauntingly. "O it's a religious thing. I had to baptize myself in a blood ritual."

"Interesting, I've always found cults interesting," Noah said, plastering a smile. "You've got a knife and everything to go with it."

"Had to make an animal sacrifice," Tim said, "for the blood."

"That's so cool." Noah plastered another smile on his visage. 

Tim faked a smile back, and then slowly looked ahead again. It grew silent until he had started again. "Is she home," he glanced over his shoulder again, "your sister ... ?"

Noah's heart had started to throb quickly, it slammed into his chest upon hearing those words. "I-I'm not sure either. She's not my sister; she's Noah's sister. In fact," Noah staggered on his feet, "I'll be taking my leave now. I'll come back sometime later. See ya," he walked away, briskly, continuously looking back. 

Everytime he looked back, he saw the strange man staring into his soul. 

"Sure," Tim said, "I can always come say hi to you after."

Noah didn't cross the road, instead he took another part, and had hidden himself behind a strange house, panting loudly. He ended up dragging down the wall, on which he slumped, until his behind had reached the ground.

He held his knife in both his hands. "The door's opened. It doesn't lock. Mother's in trouble! Come on—think! What would uncle Ash do?" Panic in his voice. 

"Come on, I can do this ... it shouldn't be hard. Uncle Ash does it all the time. I'm supposed to go back there, and ambush him," Noah stood, "and actually, that I will do. I have to go back; my mother and grandma and my friends are all in danger," he furrowed his brows, "Uncle gave this knife to me to protect them! I must fight!" He started walking again. "I will fight!"

Swallowing his fear, he knotted his brows with profound alacrity. He was headed for his house again, his hand behind his back clasped around a certain knife. 

***

Tim still waited at the door, patiently. He had decided to knock again. He knocked once, then twice, and then the third time. 

"I'm coming. I'm putting on some clothes. I'll be there in a second!"

Footsteps sounded from behind the door. Then they stopped. Tim waited patiently. 

"I thought the birds were picking at the glass in the door again."

"The door doesn't even lock, so you could have just opened it yourself."

The door clicked. Tim hid his knife behind his back. Dianne kept the door ajar; peering through the gap. "Oh my god, it's you Tim," she pulled the door halfway opened, "you're hurt!" She quailed, frowning. 

"Oh it's fine," Tim said, "The gang ran into a couple of Courtez's men, and Ash wasn't there."

Dianne kept something behind her back as well. "That's horrible."

"Yeah," Tim said, "it's rather unfortunate, isn't it?"

He was about to walk in the house. He walked forward, drawing his knife. Dianne quickly revealed a glass vase she had been hiding behind her back. She broke it on his head as he walked in. 

Tim groaned, staggering on his feet, the glass shattering on the floor. Splinters dispersed. Dianne hurried to the kitchen. Tim leaned back, locking the door behind him. 

Dianne crashed her waist into the kitchen counter. She moaned, stumbling a bit. She took a knife from the kitchen, clutching both her hands around and holding it high. She panted heavily, her pregnant belly protruding out. Paunch from an unborned baby of eight months. 

Tim started toward her, shaking off his head, and keeping his knife at his side. As he neared Dianne, she passed her knife to her right hand, and threw utensils and glass cups at him.

A glass cup crashed into Tim's face and shattered. Then a white glass plate slammed into his forehead. He staggered, but had kept his stance. As he reached near her, she slashed at his chest. Then she slashed again. Then she swiftly flickered the knife, and thrust it into the hand Tim raised to block with. 

She yanked the knife out, blood splattering. 

Tim retaliated. He quickly sunk his offhand into her face. She lurched. Another one of his jabs had knocked her to the floor. She collapsed. Her knife slid accross the tiles. Tim kept a dead look to his face. He raised his foot as high as possible and kicked her to her pregnant stomach. She writhed in pain, squirming about on the floor, groaning.

He kicked her again. Her eyes bulged in her eye sockets. She screamed. Tim bent over. He entangled his fingers betwixt her blonde dyed hair, and raised her to his face. "How does it feel to be the one spelled victim to such unfairness!"

Dianne's face was swollen. The knife was a bit away from her. She surreptitiously reached for it as he held up her head. "What ... what are ... are you talking about, Tim? Why are you doing this? I don't understand! Please don't kill me! Have mercy!"

Tim slapped a hand across her face. Then he brought the same hand back, backhanding her. "Did Ash have mercy? Did the murderer who killed my wife and daughter have mercy? Is there any fucking mercy for the sad, lonesome guy who's done nothing but be quiet!" He snapped. 

"We can talk this out. It doesn't have to be like this. It doesn't have to end like this. Your youthful life," she secretly reached for the knife, "I don't want you to lose it because of death or prison."

Tim's face scrunched in anger. He snapped at her again, "How can I loose something that's already lost!"

Dianne glimpsed at the knife, still trying to reach for it. 

"YOU JUST DON'T GET IT, DO YOU?"

Her finger had just touched the knife, hitting it further away. 

"I'VE LOST EVERYTHING!"

A tear trickled down Tim's cheek. "And it's all because of Ash..."

He then looked into Dianne's eyes. They weren't fixed on him. He looked in the direction she had been looking. She had grabbed the knife. She slashed at Tim's throat. Tim jolted his head back, the knife slicing through flesh. It hadn't gone deep. 

He gritted his teeth, raising his hand high. He buried his fist in her face, and then another. Another again, and then another. She had dropped the knife. He released her hair. Into the ground, her head slammed. 

Tim had continued to kick at her stomach relentlessly. He curled up like a millipede after constant blows to her stomach. Blood running down from her nostrils. 

"YOU DON'T GET IT!"

"NONE OF YOU DO!"

"THE MAN I WORSHIPPED FUCKED EVERYTHING UP FOR ME!"

He sobbed, his body jerking constantly. "My daughter ... My wife .... they're both .... gone. Forever. It's all his fault.

"That's why I'm taking Ash's wife and son! But I'm not killing you two so easily. I'm gonna torture you. I'll cut you limb by limb. And then," his eyes widened maniacally, "I'll do it all to myself before Ash gets here!"

Suddenly, the door had opened. Rosa, Brendan and Julia all walked in. Over his shoulder, Tim leered at them with maniacal eyes. 

He turned around, walking toward the group of unbidden guests. Rosa quickly stood in front of the children. "Stay behind me," she whispered, still smiling. 

Tim launched a fist into Rosa's face. She staggered but kept standing. He stretched his hand back, and thrust forward, burying it into her stomach. She still hadn't fallen. She didn't groan, she didn't cry, she took it silently. 

Tim clenched his teeth. "You old arrogant hag!" He jabbed her to the face with his most powerful blow yet. She stumbled over, and had collapsed. 

"Miss Rosa!" Julia screamed.

Brendan backed away. His eyes widened. He quickly went through the door behind him, running away from the house and leaving his sister Julia.