Don't Call Me 'Son' (Jeff the Killer Fanfic) [2nd Place in Jeff the Killer 2016]

Chapter 1

The sun was bright above the two arrivals as they came out of the car, their steps light and carefree. Michael walked up to his front door with Jake at his side, shaking his head. Jake had just cracked a stupid joke and a harmonious laughter left past Michael's lips as he approached the door to open it. His hand reached out to grab the knob, but his hand fell straight through air.

But it was already open....

Something's wrong...

Michael turned to look and stared at the door before looking back at Jake, confused. Jake looked at the door as well and his eyebrows knitted in curiosity. This sort of habit wasn't common among the rich, or normal people in general. Since he was young, he always remembered his parents putting up safety measures that would prevent a robbery. They even went so far as to use more than three security devices around the house. This was enough to make Jake worry and Michael could see it in his eyes.

"Maybe they're letting the air in? It's been pretty hot lately, so maybe their air conditioner stopped working."Jake said with a shrug.

Even though he knew Jake was only trying to calm him down, Michael couldn't help but crack a smile and believe that that might be the case.

"You're probably right. I guess I'm overreacting," Michael said.

Jake grinned.

"Yeah, you do that a lot," Jake said before waving his hand and making his way back to his chaperone. "But that's what makes you unique!"

Michael shook his head in cheerful amusement before he made his way inside the house. The first thing he noticed was the fact that the house was completely dark. The sun was out, but the curtains were drawn like someone was tying to keep everybody out.

Get out.

Eyebrows furrowed, Michael placed his suitcase down and straightened up his back. He didn't listen to the voice in his head. He knew that the house looked a little... frightening and it reeked of danger. But that didn't mean anything.

"H... Hello?" Michael called.

Nobody answered. Not even Mrs. Thompson. She was usually the first one to great anyone. Michael knitted his brows and tried to focus his eyes in the dark. If it were anybody else, they would have shrugged the odd silence off like it was nothing.

But with Michael....

Michael took a step forward and concentrated, listening in on any noise he could hear. Nothing could be heard. Outside, he could hear the car pulling out of their driveway, but that was it. It was so eerily silent that Michael felt like he was in a slasher movie.

You've never seen a slasher movie before... Keep walking....

Michael rolled his eyes. The voice just told him to go back, right? What the hell-

~Crash~

Michael stopped mid-step. That came from the kitchen. He would have thought that a plate fell from one of the cabinets or a clay pot fell from above. He would have assumed that one of the others in the house did it, but...

He took a step towards the kitchen door and pressed his hand against the hard wood.

"Come out, come out. Wherever you are..."

Michael felt his body freeze in it's place, his heart catching in his throat. His palms became sweaty and his eyes widened as adrenaline pumped through his veins.