Short horror stories

At the end of the day

   At the beginning of the day, it starts out the same. Get up, throw on that mask you call beauty after getting dressed. You get breakfast, and fake a smile. It repeats day after day after day. You're sick of it, well, there's might be some change. It could be good, maybe bad, but either way, a difference. Maybe you'll finally break, or maybe you'll get that raise at work.
  The lack of sleep pulls on you as you work. Today, you were running late. You're not really feeling it today, are you? You didn't grab your morning coffee, and you'd show up to work only to see the huge stack of papers on your desk. A bad day runs along every once in awhile, yet you shrug it off, nothing terribly bad had happened to you, and it probably won't now.
   Work ends, and your minds racing with stress. You text your friends wanting to know if they're up for dinner, and maybe a drink or two. They respond with a "yes," or "no," either way you're ready for a night out.  You deserve a break! You just dealt with eight hours of work dragging on.
    You go home, get ready for a night out. Your plans are the only thing you have going on for the rest of the night, unless you count Netflix until midnight a plan. It's Friday night, and you really have nothing else to do.
   Knock
   Knock
   Knock
   You jolt to a sound of tapping against your door. Your friends call for you. Grabbing a jacket you race outside, it's not a particularly cold day, a bit chilly, but that's all. You get in the car.
   Almost 12 drinks later, and you're feeling dizzy. You stumble out to the car, your friends passed out in the back seat. You get in, and turn on the engine. Out of your mind, you see something in the front seat of your friend's car. It's a note, about you. Being 21, you're still immature, you read it.
   Heart broken by the words left by your own friend, you lead them to your house. Senses gone, you see one of the two friends lying on the couch, that's the last thing you remembered when you woke up.
   As you sat up in the bed, your skin stuck to the sheets, and the stench of the metallic substance fills your nostrils. Screaming, you run downstairs, your friends are dismembered. You're soaked in blood, who's though?
  "What happened?" You think to yourself. Memories flood into your mind. You're covered in their blood, you had too much to drink. You remember the feeling for the cold metal, and the sounds of the blood pouring against the wooden floor. You pick up the phone and dial the number. You have to make this right, don't you. You here the sirens as you grab the gun next to you.
    "Open up! It's the Police!" You hear. You don't move, they'll kick down the door. Your eyes are shut tightly as you grasp the gun, put it against your head, and pull the trigger.