Crazy Man up the Street

    I always knew the recluse down the street was a little insane in the head. so when i returned from my morning run that day, I could see that my unconscious fears had been there for a reason. I turned right back around and started running again, the Crazy Man Up the Street chasing me with a machete.
    He stumbled a little as he ran after me, as if his coordination was off. I banged on the door of a neighbor and screamed when the machete embedded itself inches form my head. I tried the doorknob and found it unlocked. Once inside I locked the door and ran upstairs.
    There was not a sound in the house besides a small drip in the bathroom. I felt my shoe step in something slick when I passed the bathroom and barely gave it a second glance before I stopped dead in my tracks. My eyes traveled slowly downward and followed the small trickle of dark red to the bottom of the bathroom door. I jumped and almost slipped when the banging on the locked front door started. 

    Sense told me not to open the door, but human curiosity made me. I felt stomach acid rise up in my throat at the sight that welcomed me. The family of four all hung upside down form the ceiling, their throats slit and the white tile floor stained red. I could not scream. I could not move. My thoughts came down to one that repeated over and over in my head; this is not The Crazy Man Up The Street, this is a mass murder. As far as I knew right then, the whole street was dead.

    The stairs creaked and the sense of danger returned to me a hundred fold stronger. I slipped off my shoes quietly but hurriedly to avoid making a noise and quickly found a closet to hide in that locked from the inside. 

    I waited in tense silence, straining my ears for the sound of anything; preferably sirens. But i heard nothing. Nothing. Only Silence. I'm not sure i even heard my own heart beating, my own quickened breathing. I heard what i was hoping i wouldn't after what seemed like twenty four hours condensed into a minute. The soft squeak of the floor outside made my stop breathing. He's out there. He's out there. He's out there.  ran though my mind and terror made me tremble.

    The door handle was slowly tried from the outside. There came a small chuckle when it wouldn't open. I didn't hear the splintering of wood, or feel the pain of anything piercing my chest. I didn't feel anything. I didn't hear anything. I only felt my warm lifeline soak the front of my shirt and then nothing.   

Author's Note

Wrote this in creative writing. Haha that was fun. As always, advice and reviews appreciated.