Henry was sitting in the car, silently watching the Loser’s afar near the abandoned house. He was covered in blood, mainly his face and in his mullet hair.

”Like lambs into the slaughter.”

He spoke in a neutral voice, turning to face Reginald who was sitting in the passenger seat.

”What do you say, fellas?”

He spoke, but Reginald and Victor didn’t respond. Reginald was dead, stabbed and his shirt soaked with blood. Victor was in the back seat behind Henry. His throat was slit and his eyes rolled back.

Henry gripped onto the wheel, before looking over and facing it. He gritted his teeth, before aggressively hitting the wheel. He realized what he did.. He killed his two best friends, now he was alone. Hockstetter was missing, mostly dead. But that bitch needed to die anyways, Hockstetter was nothing but a creep.

Henry leaned his head on the wheel. His face was stained with fresh blood, and the smell.. Was awful. As he was staring down at the switchblade in his hand that he used to kill Reginald and Victor. He had no regrets.