Carapace King

    9:30. I’m late again. Sherry won’t be happy, especially since this is the 10th time this month. By now I’m sure her and the kids are used to it, but that’s no excuse.  The research is going so well though and if we don’t work out the final bugs in the next week we’ll lose our funding, and then what will the company do?   

    I hope Sherry understands. It’s not like I want to be coming home in the middle of the night from work…I would much rather be at home with her and the kids anytime. That’s why I planned this weekend, and made sure that I had no work. Sherry, the kids, and our whole family has always loved skiing, so the extra money I’ve been making from overtime will be put to good use on our trip to Vail, Colorado. It’s going to be a blast, even though I haven’t done much skiing for almost 5 years now.

    Michael eased his blue BMW into the family’s average twenty minutes away from his job in Silicon Valley. Still thinking of how disappointed his wife was going to be that he had missed dinner again, and how happy she would be after he told her of the weekend plans, Michael stepped out of the car and strode toward the house in the dim light from the street lamp down the block. The BMW gave a quiet beep and flashed its lights in response to Michael pushing the lock button on his wireless car remote. The wonders of technology.

    It’s odd for the lights to all be off, usually Jonathan is still up playing video games or chatting with friends on the net, even at 11PM. I wonder what’s going on?

    As the door creaked open, Michael stepped into the dark house, inhaling the scent of garlic bread and lasagna that made his stomach growl audibly. Even the small hallways lights where all off, which was odd, but maybe someone had just forgotten to turn them on as was the usual custom. Maybe Jonathan had told his mother about the ski trip and they had all gone to bed so as to be rested for tomorrows flight.

    I can’t believe I missed dinner again, and lasagna nonetheless. At least everyone is sleeping so I can sneak some leftovers before I head to hit the hay. But it’s gotta be quiet.

    The floor creaked under Michael’s weight, causing him to wince and tread carefully, avoiding the creaky spots in the floor behind the couch and in the kitchen entryway. He glanced around, waiting for his eyes to better adjust to the darkness that enveloped the kitchen. Finally giving in, Michael felt for the light switch for a few seconds, found it, and flipped it on.

    The light flashed on, causing Michael to shade his eyes and squint until they adjusted to the brightness.

    What he saw when he looked up stopped his breath.

    His eyes took in the scene all at once, before his brain could register what it all meant. Two of the 5 chairs where broken, and shattered glass was strewn around the room. On the maple cupboards and the stainless steel refridgerator was splatters of some red liquid. The table itself was scarred with knife marks, and had been branded in an unusual pattern.

    A knife, the last thing to come crashing into Michael brain, a knife, was jammed into the wood of one of the cupboards and holding in place a grinning black mask.