Chapter One-The Drive

I hate him. I really do.
Lloyd Donaldson, on his way to see brother Darryl.
I hate him. I really do.
Lloyd was a year older than his brother Darryl, who was 29.
I hate him. I really do.
Darryl had graduated high school at 16. He then went off to medical school to become a doctor. He graduated at the head of his class.
I hate him. I really do.
Darryl was now an emergency room doctor at the hospital in the small Wyoming town of Malbrook. He made about 200,000 dollars a year and had millions in the bank.
I hate him. I really do.
Lloyd graduated high school at 19, failing his sophomore year.
I hate him. I really do.
After high school Lloyd went on to a film school. He was there for less than a year. He left saying it hampered his artistic visions.
I hate him. I really do.
He had made some short films that hadn't gone over really well. He got one entered into the Florida Film Festival.
I hate him. I really do.
About twenty people saw it.
I hate him. I really do.
It got terrible reviews.
I hate him. I really do.
Lloyd himself hated it.
I hate him. I really do.
Lloyd would never make anything out of himself.
I hate him. I really do.
He had always hated Darryl.
I hate him. I really do.
Even during their youth. Darryl would always be the goody-two-shoes and get straight A's on his report cards.
I hate him. I really do.
Then Darryl could do anything he wanted. Anything.
I hate him. I really do.
Darryl almost burnt down their house once. Did Darryl get blamed? No.
I hate him. I really do.
But Lloyd would have revenge.
I hate him. I really do.
That's why he was here, right now.
I hate him. I really do.
Driving in this car, on the long and bending road.
I hate him. I really do.
The small TC-30 camera sat in the passenger seat. A fresh tape was nestled inside of it. It was ready for the drama.
I hate him. I really do.
This would be Lloyd's best film.
I hate him. I really do.
It would be a true film, about the demise of a doctor.
I hate him. I really do.
The doctor would be about to lose his job because he gave a patient the wrong medicine.
I hate him. I really do.
The patient died.
I hate him. I really do.
The doctor had a periodic mental breakdown.
I hate him. I really do.
His wife couldn't take it.
I hate him. I really do.
She left.
I hate him. I really do. And so does she.
And now his brother Lloyd was about to exploit every emotion that was inside the traumatized doctor.
I hate him. I really do.

The car turned again. All these turns were making Lloyd sick. He had pulled over to vomit once. He wanted one piece of straight road, just one God forsaken piece of straight road.
I hate him. I really do.
Yes, he was sure of that. He hated his brother; he just wanted to destroy the tattered remains of his life. Someone once said the human race couldn't survive without revenge. He agreed, wholeheartedly.
Why did Darryl have to be such a jerk? He was always a huge jerk.
It drove Lloyd crazy during his youth. Darryl was treated like a god while Lloyd was treated like the scum of the Earth.
I hate him. I really do.
Yes, you really do hate him Lloyd. You hate his entire, miserable, and forsaken existence. Let him rot in the bowels of Hell.
The film would be a hit. Just like The Blair Witch Project was. People love documentaries.
I'm gonna be rich. And I hate him. I really do.
The car groaned.
Just great. Screw up now, why doncha?
The old '87 Honda Accord had seen its days. The engine was practically ready for metal salvage. But hey, the car could possibly get Lloyd to Darryl's 2,000,000-dollar home. Possibly.
I hate him. I really do. And I'll always hate the jerk, forever and onward to infinity. But I'll never harm him. I could never bring myself to that.
Lloyd could never lay a finger on Darryl. It all lied in those younger years, before they went to school. They got along so well. They were best friends.
And then school, the bragging. That's when it went downhill.
Lloyd brushed his blonde hair from the piercing blue eyes. His body squirmed in the seat. He placed his small, round head against the headrest and let his face look out onto the slick roads. The chains rattled on his tires.
Lloyd would never harm his brother. After all, he was his brother.

Darryl loved his brother. He wanted to love him. Well, actually, he hated him.
They hated each other.
How long had it been since he'd shown up for work? A week? Two weeks? He didn't know. He just sat in the living room of this giant docile, watching Dr. Strangelove or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb over and over again. It was the tape in the VCR when she left. And he just kept watching, over and over and over.
"R for Romeo." piped the movie.
R for Romeo.
R for Romeo.
R for Romeo.
It played in his mind for the next minute over and over again. It was enough to make him glance at the titanic bookcase and see his copy of Shakespeare's tragic tale. He stood up and walked over to the bookcase, all the while keeping his eyes trained on the black and white pictures that played on the big screen TV.
He clutched the hardback book in his fist. Juliet did not walk out on Romeo.
The book hit the wall hard.
Lloyd is coming.
Lloyd is coming.
Oh no, Lloyd is coming.
What's gonna happen? What's gonna go down?
How can he see me like this? I'm an almost crazy. My God, help me. Please. Give me strength. I need to work. Has the hospital called? I don't know; I broke the phone yesterday. Has Lloyd tried to call? God I hope he hasn't. If no one answered he'd come quicker. I don't need Lloyd. I hate Lloyd. Well, I want to love Lloyd. But right now I can't. I'm too fragile. Maybe I should continue to work down there. Yeah, that new stuff, it's going well. Yeah, I'll work down there. Yeah, and it'll keep me busy till Lloyd arrives, and I can stop watching this movie. I've seen it about 100 times now. This isn't good. How far am I from absolute INSANITY? Yeah, INSANITY, that's when The Men In White Coats come to take you away. Yeah, to the Crazy House, that's where they'll take me. The Crazy House, man, I don't need to go there. I got work to do. What am I doing? Standing here, looking at a book I just hurled across the room because of a line they said in an old movie. Man, I gotta get down there.
Darryl started walking to the basement door that was right beside the bending staircase.
Jesus Christ! What if the mayor of Malbrook calls? He's done it before when I've been absent from work.
"You're the best doctor in that place, Darryl. They need you."
"I know they do. But I have the flu myself. I can't be making my patients sicker!"
The mayor laughed at that. But this time it wasn't the flu. It was INSANITY.
And also, the mayor would call, because of the incident.
He was no longer the best doctor in the place. A slip up sent the wrong medicine pumping through a senile lady's veins.
She was about to kick the bucket anyways. Darryl continued to think. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Yeah man, kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
Darryl opened the door to the basement. His long and pale face-with its deep brown eyes and light brown hair-peered into the deep darkness below.
I could really care less about that old buzzard woman, she could die a million times over, and I could care even less. Yeah man, think like that. That's good for you. C'mon, time to go work down there.
His foot hit the first step of the stairway. The old and cracked wood creaked under pressure.
When are they gonna come and get me, huh? When? I've killed. They're gonna come and get me. And they're gonna see me like this, aren't they? Then they will call The Men In White Coats. Then off to the Crazy House, or the Loony Bin, either one, it doesn't matter. And also, forget the Thompson's. They can go about killing themselves. I don't care.
The Thompson's were a family a little ways up the road. They hadn't bothered to shovel snow and now they were snowed in. Darryl was supposed to go help their boy with the flu. But he didn't care anymore.
Let 'em all die. Let 'em all just get that flu and die. Or maybe they'll kill themselves, in fear of the flu. Yeah. That'd be a funny headline in the papers, if the papers still exist out there. Who knows what's happened in these . . . weeks. How long has it been? Kill 'em all. Then no one will ever know. Kill 'em all.
He was now on the fifth step.
Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Yeah, starting with the Thompson's. Kill 'em all.
His foot hit the sixth step.
And her. I'll kill her. She almost killed me. Cutting my wrist with that knife was really mean. Sure, I could've killed her with the bat, but hey, shouldn't she die for me? I was her husband. Till death do us part. And she wanted and part. Well then she had to die. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
The eighth step now.
Time to die, sweetie. You say you don't wanna be with me anymore? Well you heard what the priest said. He said till death do us part. Hold still, honey. I need a good whiff at your head. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
His left foot pressed down on the ninth step.
Hi Tommy. Oh, looks like you got a case of the flu. I'm so sorry, Tommy. Well, you know what Tommy Thompson? You refused to get a flu shot. Yeah, you refused. Oh, what's that? You never said anything about a flu shot? Well Tommy, I don't believe that. You have always been a lying brat, so I'm not gonna believe you. And because you've lied I'm leaving. How? Oh, through the chimney I guess. Yeah, like Santa. Oh, I forgot to say Tommy, Santa's a fake, a sham. He's really Mommy and Daddy. Yeah, that's right. But don't cry. The flu will have you dead soon. And then Mommy and Daddy will die to. And you can all burn in Hell together, you lying brat. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
The eleventh step now. Almost there, almost down there. Hi Lloyd. Oh, so you have a new film. Well, it'll be crap like all that other art crap you used to show me. I never liked your films Lloyd. They were always garbage. In fact Lloyd, no one likes your arty films. Perhaps you should take that camera in your hand and throw it against the wall. Then you can't make those crappy films anymore. That's right, go ahead and throw it. Good job Lloyd. Now that your films are gone no one will ever miss you again. So you die now, Lloyd. Are you ready? A quick tolchock to the head should do it. Ha ha ha, did you hear what I said? Tolchock, one of those Nadsat words from A Clockwork Orange. I love that book, Lloyd. There's lots of killing in that book, Lloyd, and lots of killing in the movie. You gotta kill. Kill 'em all. The no one will know. Kill 'em all.
The thirteenth step, the final step until he reached what awaited him down there.
Goodbye Lloyd. I tried to love you. But I know you didn't try. Stand still, okay?


Darryl placed his foot on the concrete floor of the basement. Then the doorbell rang. Lloyd.
He started up the stairs again.


"Oh, hi Darryl. How is your crazy existence treating you?"
He did not say that. Lloyd did not say that. Did he?
No, he didn't. He said: "Oh, hi Darryl. How is your life and existence treating you?"
Darryl breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm fine Lloyd. Come in."
Lloyd stepped in and looked the 2,000,000-dollar home over. The bright red and gold almost blinded Lloyd. The massive chandeliers hung from every corner and alcove, making the entire mansion brightly illuminated. The pipe-like staircase, made of gleaming rosewood, led the way to the second and third floors. Its sharp bends like a maze. The pale yellow light was shining down from the lofts in the two master bedrooms. There was a gigantic aquarium full of colorful sea life next to the staircase. The golden carpet was spotless and uniform.
Then he saw Romeo And Juliet lying on the floor.
Then he looked at the TV.
"Dr. Strangelove, that's one of my favorite movies." Lloyd said.
I really don't care for it.
"Yeah, it is for me to." Darryl said.
Lloyd smiled. "So, you ready to be filmed?"
No. Throw that camera against the wall. Then I can kill you. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
"Sure am. Movies make the rich!" Darryl exclaimed.
But I'm already rich. I know he's thinking that. I know he wants to say it. Say it Lloyd. C'mon, just say it. I know you want to.
"Darryl," Lloyd said while laughing, "you've already got tons of money!"
I know, you jerk. I know. I know. And you said it. I knew you would.
"Well, let's sit down." Darryl said.
"Sure." Lloyd said while taking his seat on the couch. He looked at the TV once again; Peter Sellers was giving his performance as the United States President. Then the TV winked out. Darryl had turned it off. Lloyd could see it gave him pain. "You don't have to turn it off."
"Don't worry about it, Lloyd. Now we need to talk."
"About what?" Lloyd asked.
"The film."
"What about it?"
"Well, for starters, what's the title?"
"I've thought about calling it Documentary Of A Doctor."
"I don't know if I'm still a doctor, Lloyd."
"I thought you might return, saying you needed personal leave."
"Yeah, I've thought about that."
Shut the f-k up. Please. You are such a jerk.
"Well, Darryl, let's try and do that tomorrow, okay?"
I hate you, Lloyd.
I hate him. I really do.
Will you just die, Lloyd?
I wish you were dead, Darryl.
You were always such a huge jerk!
I want to see you rot in your grave, you stupid jerk!
They both stood up. Both of them knew that a wall of hostility was between them.
"Where am I staying?" Lloyd asked.
"Well, you can stay in the main guest room until the rest of the family gets here." Darryl said.
"Well, why stay in a room for a week and then have to move everything. What room will I stay in when the rest of the family arrives?"
"The third guest room in the upstairs main hallway."
"Thanks." You jerk! That's the smallest room in the house! You said so last time I was here!
He had a week. He wanted to believe that this trip was for his film, but actually it was a family reunion. But he had arrived a week in advance to get a good majority of his filming done. He would also stay a week after the reunion in order to finish the filming that the reunion interrupted.
A longer period.
Lloyd had no idea why that though popped into his head.
"C'mon Lloyd, go get your stuff and we'll go to the room."
Lloyd went out the door and down the driveway covered in the brown pine needles. The browning trees flanked the driveway, putting the 2,000,000-dollar mansion in perfect seclusion.
Lloyd turned his keys. The trunk popped open.
He grabbed the red suitcase and hauled it easily to the doorstep that was flooded with pine needles. He rapped on the door.
"Need help?" Darryl asked, swinging the red door open.
"No, I packed light."
Within five minutes they were in Lloyd's room.
The room was small, very small. Lloyd swore his studio apartment was bigger. The kitchen was a refrigerator and a table. His bathroom was within arm's reach of the couch/bed. He did not have a dresser.
Brown. The entire room was brown.
The house was done in red and gold.
The room was ugly.
Darryl started to leave. Lloyd stopped him with a quick burst of speech. "Thanks."
The silence hung over them like an evil sin.
"You're welcome." Darryl said, slamming the door.
Jerk. You stupid jerk.

Darryl couldn't stand Lloyd anymore. His anger has peaked.
I want you dead. Kill 'em all. The no one will know. Kill 'em all. You stupid jerk!
Darryl went down the bending staircase. He saw the blank TV. He turned the movie back on.
And he picked up Romeo And Juliet.
He placed it neatly on the bookcase.
Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.


He was here. I know it! He came, during the night!
Lloyd was sitting in his bed. He wanted breakfast. But he didn't want to go downstairs. Not with Darryl, a man on the brink of INSANITY.
What if he tries to murder me? I know he would, especially after what I'm going to ask of him. Oh, this won't be good.
Lloyd got out of bed. He changed from his pajamas into a t-shirt and shorts. He opened the door. The hinges creaked. They hadn't been used in years.
The stairs.
He started slowly down the bending stairs.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
He's down there. I know he is. He's got an ax, a bat, a knife, a gun, a something to kill me with. I saw the way he acted yesterday.


Oh my God! What the f-k was that? Oh s-t! He's got the something. He'll be here on the stairs in no time. Oh s-t! Oh s-t! Where is he? The living room, maybe? I think he's in the living room. Alright, if I get around this bend I'll be able to see the living room. I'll see if has a something. Alright, around the bend now. Let's see-
Darryl was there with a baseball bat, smashing pictures of her.
Oh thank God! Thank God he's not on some insane rage, coming to get me with the baseball bat. Oh thank God! Oh thank God! Oh thank God!

She called his cellular phone at eight 'o clock. He had forgotten about it. He kept it in a drawer that was within his bedside table.
He opened the drawer and removed the small link to the world.
"Darryl, I've tried to call but no one will answer! What-"
"The phone is gone. As this one will be."
He hurled the cell phone against the wall and watched it shatter into hundreds of pieces. It was time for her to die.
Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
Darryl grabbed the baseball bat that he kept under the bed. He set it on the crimson sheets and stood up. He picked it up and clutched it tightly in his fist.
Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Time to die, sweetie. You say you don't wanna be with me anymore? Well you heard what the priest said. He said till death do us part. Hold still, honey. I need a good whiff at your head. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
He looked out of the half-circle loft and down into the living room. He tossed the bat at one of pictures that sat on the ledge of the gigantic rectangular window. The bat hit the picture and knocked it over.


The bat rested with vulgarity on the window ledge. Darryl raced down the pipecase-which is what he called the staircase-and grabbed the teetering bat. He brought it up and started smashing more pictures on the ledge. Most of them were pictures of her but every now and then he hit others.
He went into the dining room. In here everything was lined with pictures. Everything.


And down they all went. He was breathing heavily, panting and wheezing. Then Lloyd entered.
"Oh God, Darryl."

Lloyd got Darryl to sit down and have some breakfast in the littered red dining room. Lloyd looked at the table through the camera's foldout LCD viewfinder and swore the table was made of pure gold.
Lloyd had made some fired eggs and bacon. Darryl sat at the table slowly sipping his coffee while taking a small bite of eggs after minutes of silence.
"What happened?" Lloyd asked bluntly.
"She called. I couldn't take it."
"Listen to me Darryl! You can't go on a rampage every time she calls! I mean, look at this," Lloyd exclaimed while waving his hands about the room. "This is INSANITY!"
"That might be." Darryl said.
"What? You're admitting that this is INSANITY! My God!" Lloyd said, hamming it up for the camera.
"Throw that thing away!" Darryl screamed. "Then I can-"
Kill me? Then you can kill me, Darryl?
Yes, Lloyd. Then I can kill you.
Lloyd jumped. It was as if Darryl's thoughts were leaping from his mind to Lloyd's. Lloyd had heard many people say that family always has psychic ties. Lloyd never believed anything of that nature.
Darryl, can you hear this?
No answer.
No answer. Perhaps he was just imagining things. Yes, that was it. He had just imagined that Darryl's thoughts had crossed over to his own mind.
"What, Darryl? What can you do?" Lloyd asked, trying to hold back a smile. This film would be a hit.
"Nothing. Nothing at all." Darryl said, hanging his head and looking at his breakfast. He picked up a fork and started toying with the bacon.
"Nothing, eh. Well Darryl," Lloyd said with a smirk, "I was hoping to see you back at work today. Looks like we can't-"
"-go to work? Sure, I can go to work." Darryl finished.
"Really now?"
"Sure can. I feel better. This released a lot of my rage."
"Guess that's a good thing." Lloyd said while he started to zoom in on Darryl's face. Capturing the emotion, he loved it.
"Well, guess you should finish up your breakfast," Lloyd said in the tone one would use with a child. "I think it's getting cold."
Lloyd shut the camera off and stood. He pushed the chair in with the low grumble coming from the friction. He looked at his own breakfast and decided to dump it in the kitchen. He clutched the plate in his left hand while holding the TC-30 camcorder in his right hand. He did have a small shoulder mount packed away in his bag.
Perhaps I'll fetch it for later.
He looked at Darryl slowly eating his breakfast before he left the dining room. He walked to the South of the house towards the kitchen. He placed his plate in the sink and made his way towards the pipecase.
What a funny name you devised for that staircase, Darryl.
Yes, I know.
There it was again: Darryl's thoughts leaping into his mind.
No. It really isn't Darryl's thoughts leaping into my mind. That is impossible.
But right about now it seemed totally possible.
I'm not insane. Don't think like this. What are you doing? Getting the shoulder mount for the camera. You are getting the shoulder mount. Time to scale the pipecase.
He began to scale the pipecase.


Holy s-t! What now?!
Lloyd turned on the camcorder. He descended the pipecase.
He rushed into the dining room.
"Sorry." Darryl said. He had thrown the breakfast against the wall.
This thing is insane. I know it. I just gave the guy some comfort and now look at him! He couldn't help himself, could he? No, he couldn't. He needs to be locked away. The men in white coats need to come and take him away. He can no longer live in a civilized manner.
Lloyd took the camcorder and panned over the room once again. It looked so amateur, but it also looked real. And it was also interesting.
"You're gonna go to work?" Lloyd asked.
"Sure," Darryl said smiling, "my rage is outta me."

Lloyd sat in the small room, the camera on the dresser. The recording light was on. Lloyd sat on the bed.
"This is Lloyd Donaldson," Lloyd started, "and you've just seen my brother, Darryl Donaldson. Darryl has recently placed his profession in a state of jeopardy. He accidentally gave an elderly patient codeine, which she was allergic to. She was dead within a few hours. The stress of losing a patient by such a simple mistake put my brother Darryl under tremendous stress, which in turn affected his love life. His wife of six years separated from him.
"What my brother just displayed was a common fit among people in his predicament. In fifteen minutes we'll be traveling to Malbrook. Darryl is going to be returning to work for the first time in ten days. I will be following him into his work, seeing if his stress evolves into INSANITY."

The Porsche glided gently down the slick roads of the mountains. Sometimes it veered a little too close to the guardrails. Lloyd could feel himself gasp when it slid too far to the right.
"The roads are slick." Lloyd said. "You think we shoulda took the Suburban?"
"No, the Porsche'll make it. She always does." Darryl replied.
Another sharp turn came. Lloyd gasped. He had to keep calm. He decided to do an interview with his brother. He grabbed the camera and pointed it at Darryl.
"Darryl, I'm gonna say when I'm ready. Then I'll ask you some questions, okay?"
Lloyd pressed the record button. "So, you happy about going back to work?"
"Sure, I love saving lives." Darryl said as he looked over and smiled. It made Lloyd tremendously uneasy that his brother wasn't watching the deadly curves of the road.
Lloyd occupied himself by adjusting the backlight that the camera gave him. It was a beautiful day, and beautiful days included sun. The glare was interminable.
He got the backlight set and implored Darryl further. "What was her name, the one you accidentally gave the codeine to?"
Darryl swallowed. "Anna O' Brien."
Lloyd zoomed in and fought off a smile. The emotion was pouring from Darryl's face. "What medical state was Ms. O' Brien in?"
"Miss O' Brien was completely comatose. She made no physical movements of any kind-except for breathing."
"Have you lost any other patients, other than Miss O' Brien?"
"Yeah, a guy who had been hit by a train four years ago. His name was Lindsay Rogers. There wasn't much I could do with him." Darryl said, this time showing no self-pity.
"If you could choose one of those two patients to live, Miss O' Brien and Mr. Rogers, who would you choose."
I've got him! I've got him trapped! If he says Miss O' Brien I'll ask why Mr. Rogers life isn't important. And if he says Mr. Rogers I'll ask the same, only vice versa. I've got him! I've got him!
There was silence for 15 minutes. Lloyd waited for the answer.
He waited.
And waited.
And waited.
"If I couldn't choose both," Darryl started, but never finished.
Five more minutes went by.
Then ten.
Then 20.
"If I couldn't choose both I'd choose neither one of them."
Curse you! You stupid doctors, always sidestepping the actual question that's posed! Can you explain why you couldn't give me a straight answer? No, you can't. You can't because you are a doctor. And all doctors lie. All of them.
"But what if you had to choose?"

"But what if you had to choose?"
I don't want this stupid question, you ungrateful f-ker! God, I hate you, you stupid jerk! Get the f-k out of my personal life!
"I said I wouldn't."
Good answer? Was that a good answer? No, it wasn't. But at least it'll keep the b-ch busy until he thinks of another probing question. God d-n, just leave me the f-k alone!
The thought of purposely swerving to the right to scare Lloyd crossed his mind.
It'll scare the s-t outta him! Yeah, scare him! Scare him straight to the gates of Hell!
Laughter roared in Darryl's mind.

The car swerved sharply to the right.
"Oh s-t!" Lloyd yelled. Darryl did his best to hold back his laughter. "What was that, Darryl?!"
"Slick roads, nothing more."
"Well that was pretty God d-n slick!"
"Sorry, nothing I can do about it."
Lloyd turned off the camera-it was no use. He had probed Darryl too far, and Darryl responded by putting up his tightest defense.
This is INSANITY, no doubt about it. Look at him. I know that wasn't the slick road. I saw him turn that wheel to the right. I saw him do it! I know he did it!
I didn't do it. The roads are slick, and a Porsche doesn't operate well on a slick road.
There it was again. Lloyd felt like screaming.
Darryl looked at the camera. "You turned it off."
"I've got enough for now. I need to save this tape and the spare for the hospital. I'll be taping a lot in there."

Yeah right. I trapped you. That's right, Lloyd. You got a taste of your own journalist medicine, you b-tard.
Darryl was very happy with himself. He had been able to beat the rat at its own game. Darryl took pride in such things. And soon he'd be back in the workplace, ready to do it thousands of times each do.
Do I really do it thousands of times each day? No. But you do have to do it a lot. Take pride in that. Take a lot of pride in that.
He smiled. He didn't care if Lloyd saw him.
A few more twists and turns. Then we'll be there. We'll be in Malbrook. Lloyd and I will be in Malbrook, Wyoming-the closest civilization for miles. Seeing other people will do me a lot of good. I'll be glad to see my co-workers. I wonder if we've hired anyone new? That'll be a change. And change is good right now. I need a little change. I need some help. I admit it.
"Say, we're almost there, eh Darryl?"
Then it hit him.
Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.


Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. It rang in his ears like a fire alarm. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
It was bad now. This place was a place of pain, and his mind had decided to inflict some.
When he walked in he was greeted by gasps. He talked to Danielle, the head nurse.
"Looks like no one around here is pleased to see me."
Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
"Yeah Darryl, you've been gone for a what, ten days now?" Danielle asked with her thick Jewish accent.
"Something like that. I'm sorry. I had some problems. Personal leave." said
"Yeah, I understand. But John is after you're a-. He ain't gonna take this personal leave s-t very easily." she said.
"F-k John and his d-n uptight attitude. I could care less about John right now." Darryl said. John was the boss around here, a very uptight boss.
"Yeah, well-hey! Who's this guy with the camera?"
"My brother Lloyd. He's doing a documentary about me." Darryl answered.
"Oh, hi!" she said waving. "My name's Danielle. I'm the head nurse."
"Well, I better go see what's up." Darryl said, walking away.
"Wish you luck!" Danielle called.
Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Yeah, starting with her, her and that annoying voice. And her constant blabbering, it never stops! Yeah, start with her. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
Darryl saw the baseball bat in his mind. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. John, I've gotta see John. Gotta see 'em with this man on my back-my brother on my back, my own stupid brother. He's taping everything. By the time this is over not one soul in America will be without the knowledge of my entire life. God please help me, I want Lloyd dead. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
Darryl continued down the main hallway. John Treaster's office was located at the end of this hallway full of home injuries and flu victims. Darryl looked around and saw the winter horrors: sniffles, sneezes, and coughs. He saw a man with a blood-red rag around his hand. It looked like a stab or puncture wound.
The color of the green tile reflected the light harshly, making several spots of the floor "blind spots"-as the staff called them. A look down could disorientate your eyes for a few seconds at a "blind spot".
Darryl and Lloyd walked for several meters down the wing, eventually reaching the office of John Treaster.
Darryl knocked. John Treaster gave a quick response. "Come in."
Darryl opened the door and Lloyd followed with the TC-30 camcorder in hand, on and recording. John Treaster sat behind a desk with his plaque reading SUPERINTENDENT reflecting golden light. The stick-like man sat with his feet propped on his mahogany desk, slowly stroking his brown beard. The tall and balding head sat lowered in an angry stare.
"Dr. Donaldson, I presume?" Treaster said without showing any signs of humor.
"Hello, Dr. Treaster." Darryl said while holding back his anger.
"Who is this with the camera?" John Treaster asked.
"He's my brother, Lloyd. He's doing a documentary about my life." Darryl replied mechanically.
"Your soon-to-be unemployed life. Darryl, it's been ten days." Dr. Treaster said.
Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
"Yes," Darryl said, free of all emotion, "I apologize Dr. Treaster. I am willing to use my vacation time towards the ten days I was absent from the workplace. I apologize once again, but I was in need of some personal leave."
"Fine, I'll remove your two weeks vacation at Christmas." Treaster said, know exactly when his best man would be away. "Now get back to work. You know your patients. Most of them are still here."
"Yes sir."
Darryl and Lloyd left the office.
"Tight a-." Lloyd said while laughing.
"Tell me about it." Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
Please stop, whatever this is. I don't want to "kill 'em all", okay? I thought this was a place of pain, but I was wrong, horribly wrong. Sure, I'll admit it. John's an uptight a- and I don't want Lloyd following me. But a hospital is a place for healing, and it is healing me!
Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
No, I won't. That meeting with John helped me. Sure he was being his normal tight a- self, but I could see where he was coming from.
Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
No! I refuse!
Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
Stop it! Will you please stop?!
Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
Who are you?!
Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
Darryl had never realized that it was a third party telling him to "kill 'em all."

As they exited the office of Dr. Treaster Lloyd noticed his brother was struggling with something. Something was definitely on his mind.
Geez, did he really wanna keep his Christmas vacation? Usually he goes with her to that resort. But she's gone now. What could be troubling him? Should I ask him? I am his brother. But no, wait a minute. I'm actually getting this on film. I really am! So I better keep quiet. Yeah, keep quiet and let the emotion play out for the lens. Keep it coming please. You're looking great.
Darryl had to stop before he entered his first patient's room.
Keep it coming, brother.

Perhaps if he did as it said. Perhaps if he did "kill 'em all" it would stop telling him to. Or perhaps . . .
He felt the tube of green liquid in his pocket.


Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the western spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun.
The Hitch Hiker's Guide To The Galaxy by Douglas Adams, many friends had recommended it to Lloyd. But until now he'd never laid eyes upon one of the book's pages.
Darryl was downstairs, doing something.
Shouldn't I be filming him?
Yes. He put the novel down and left the small room. Time to descend the pipecase.
One, two three four, he counted the steps, five, six, seven . . .
Lloyd looked down into the living room. No Darryl. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on ends. He listened closely for any sounds of madness. None were audible.
Darryl, care to enter my thoughts?
No. I've got to kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
I didn't hear that. I know I didn't I'm sure.
But Lloyd did, and he was pretty sure.
Where is he? The kitchen, maybe he's in the kitchen.
Lloyd stepped off the pipecase. He could see the red walls of the open kitchen contrasting with the white of the refrigerator. But Darryl wasn't there.
The dining room, perhaps?
He went in and saw the mess cleaned. Everything was in a place-though some were vacant.
He went and checked both master bedrooms. Darryl wasn't in either.
He strolled down the second floor's hallways, knocking on each room's door, even opening a few. Still, no Darryl to be found.
The silence of the mansion was tremendous. Lloyd's raps on the doors were like gunshots in the night. But Lloyd still couldn't find his target.
Now in the third floor's hallway, he began to worry. He went up and down this hallway twice, knocking and opening each door. Darryl was not here.
The basement, stupid.
Lloyd didn't know if that was his mind or Darryl's, but it didn't matter. Soon he was darting down the pipecase, on his way to the door that led into the mansion's depths.
Did he have the strength to open it? He stared at the door for a solid two minutes, his mind full of wonder.
What's down there? What's down in the basement? Is Darryl down there? He could have gone out for something. Yeah, he probably went out for something. I'll just go back upstairs and start reading my book. Yeah, I'll do that.
He noticed the camera was in his hands.
Geez, grabbed it unconsciously. What about that shoulder mount I made? I never got it. Oh no, the shots are probably real shaky, especially those shots in the hospital.
His thoughts drifted from the camera and back to the basement.
He's not down there. I know it. So what if some . . . hunch told me to go down here. What could be down in a musty old basement?
He knew he was scared of the basement. He knew it.
C'mon Lloyd, just go and see. C'mon. You can do it. Breathe in, breathe out. You can do it. Now open the door.
He opened the door.
Down the first step.
He was down the first step. It creaked under pressure.
Now the second step.
His feet placed themselves on the second wood step.
And now the third.
He made it down another step. He started walking a bit faster as he continued down the rotting stairway. One by one he got closer and closer top the basement's floor. He looked down at the stairway in the basement's green glow. He counted 13 steps, an unlucky number.
Two more to go.



Someone is down here. Yep, someone is definitely down here. It must be Darryl. Darryl, is that you?
No answer this time.
Lloyd's feet hit the concrete floor of the basement. Lloyd looked leeringly towards the hub of the basement's green glow. Darryl was standing in front of his beakers and test tubes, an eerie green liquid flowing being contained in them. He saw Darryl throw back his head and drink a tube of the green ooze.
Darryl spun around, the green glow shining through his safety goggles. "What?!"
Lloyd jumped as his heart skipped a beat. "Darryl, I, I, I . . ."
"Listen, Lloyd! Don't ever interrupt me while I'm working down here! Okay?"
"Sure. I'm sorry." Lloyd said while starting to look away.
This was Darryl's medicine lab. Darryl often tried new concoctions of medicines and formulas. He had even created an allergy tablet that was making him an extra 50,000 dollars a year. The genius was at work, and he didn't want to be interrupted.
"Can I ask you what that stuff is?" Lloyd asked.
"It is a new antacid that I'm working on." Darryl replied.
"Doesn't look pretty." Lloyd said. He looked down at the camera. He had taped his descent down the stairway and this discovery. He suddenly felt a tinge of relief.

S-t! He's taping this. Oh God, oh no! Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Throw the camera against the wall! Then I can kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Please, Lloyd! Let me kill you! I want the voice to stop! I have to kill you! Throw the camera! Throw it, now! You've found my secret, you naughty little brother. I don't have any choice but to kill you now, Lloyd. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
Darryl's mind officially slipped into INSANITY.


Last night, that was bed.
Darryl was in bed. His brother was upstairs, probably hurling something across his room.
Lloyd accosted Darryl this morning, and it hadn't been pulchritudinous in any way.
Darryl was eating his breakfast in the dining room, sitting quietly in his gleaming white bathrobe. He was reading the newspaper slowly in order to digest every piece of information accurately.
Then Lloyd entered. "I need to use the phone."
Darryl had just laughed. Lloyd spoke again. "I need to use the phone, where is it?"
Darryl managed to sneak a few words between bursts of laughter. Lloyd spoke up once more. "C'mon Darryl, where's the phone?"
"I broke it!" he shouted and went back to his hysterical laughter.
Lloyd had just stood there, glaring at him with anger. Darryl continued to laugh.
"What about your cell phone? This is urgent." Lloyd piped in.
"I broke it too!" Darryl yelled, his laughter starting to die.
"Why?" Lloyd asked with his anger showing in his eyes.
Darryl started to laugh again. Lloyd continued to stare at him. "She called! That's why!" Darryl continued his laughter.
Lloyd grabbed one of the wooden arch-back chairs and hurled it against the wall. One of its legs cracked in half.
"Darryl! Listen to me!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, as loud as his vocal chords allowed. "You are insane!"
Darryl stuck his tongue out and laughed harder than ever. Tears rolled from his brown eyes.
Lloyd stormed out of the dining room, giving his chair a swift kick that sent it sliding to the opposite end of the red room.
And that was the way it ended. Now Darryl was experiencing a wave of confusion and sadness. He didn't know what to do. Could he go to work?
Could he get ready for work?
Darryl got up, time for work.

Darryl had gone insane. Lloyd was sure of it.
He sat in the brown room reading his book but not paying much attention to it. His mind was on Darryl, and his mental health.
Maybe it's that ooze, or antacid, he drank. Maybe it's making him go crazy. I bet that's it. Well, I don't know. He was almost crazy before he drank that stuff. God, give me an answer please.
The door opened. A ball of paper flew in and landed in Lloyd's lap. He unfolded it and read the note.

Gone to save lives. Be back tonight.


Just like the days of youth. This was just like Darryl then.
Lloyd got out of the bed and went over to the door. He undid the latch and opened the door. He peered into the hallway and saw no signs of his brother. Then he heard the front door slam shut.
See you tonight, Mr. Madman.


Lloyd pressed the button to start the dishwasher while he grabbed a can of Coke from the refrigerator. It was midnight and Darryl wasn't home yet.
He did say tonight. Eh, stop fooling yourself. He's late, really late.
Lloyd had spent his day watching Dr. Strangelove or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb in its entirety. He watched a light snowfall and then went back to his book. He had done some fetch with Darryl's dog that he always kept in the master bedroom too. After that he watched a few movies on HBO and started wondering where Darryl was.
He had also looked at the chair he destroyed.
That chair was probably 2,000 dollars. Now it was worthless because Lloyd had broken a leg off and sent a crack up the back. But Darryl hadn't complained.
Because he's insane now, that's why.
Be quiet.
Lloyd jumped. There were the thoughts of Darryl, entering his mind. He had to accept that now.
No, such a thing isn't possible. I know I'm imagining this.
You aren't.
Stop it!
No. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
Headlights started to shine through the main window. Darryl was back.
C'mon, is that you Darryl? Is that you pulling up?
No answer. Lloyd was about to pull his hair out. This was crazy.
The doorbell rang. Lloyd walked over to the door and undid the locks. He opened the door for his brother.
"Where have you been?" Lloyd asked.
"Busy." Darryl replied. " A busy night."
Darryl threw down his things and opened the door to the basement. He closed it behind him and started on his way down. Lloyd heard every creak and groan of the stairway.
"Just think Darryl," he shouted, "soon the whole family will be here!"
A longer stay.
Those words returned to his mind again. What was going on? He had to help Darryl; he had to make him sane again. Then again he needed the drama for the film. He weighed the two problems in his mind.
He decided a good film outweighed Darryl's sanity.
I want the money. I want the fame. I'm sick of Darryl being in the limelight. It's my turn now. Lloyd Donaldson, professional filmmaker. Oh, that has a nice ring. Time to move over my brother; Lloyd Donaldson is on a definite rise. Soon I'll be the talk of the family. I will have the money. People will love me. Oh, I can't wait. I honestly cannot wait for my moment of fame! Moment? Moment?! No, there will not be a moment. I will have a famous career!
Lloyd grabbed the TC-30 camcorder from its rest on the couch. He turned it on and pressed the button labeled RECORD. Lloyd walked toward the basement door and grabbed for the doorknob, time for movie magic.
And then he remembered Darryl. He remembered Darryl drinking the slimy ooze.
Lloyd backed away from the door.
No, I must make this film! I must!
He opened the door and started his descent. Darryl knew he came closer with each creak of the stairway.
Lloyd reached the concrete floor and saw Darryl staring at him through his safety goggles. The green ooze was abounding in all sorts of containers.
"What could you possibly interrupt me for now?" Darryl asked.
"Can you give me a little recap of your day at the hospital?" Lloyd asked.
"Sure!" Darryl exclaimed with sarcastic glee. "Well, when I got in I started wondering how much that chair you destroyed was worth. Then I remembered it was in the range of oh, maybe 2,000 to 3,00 dollars. Then I had to deal with ten incoming patients that all had serious problems. And you know what, I'm the only smart person in that place! I got a lecture from John on something and then I went to go see one of my old patients. Well guess what? He died! That's right! He was sleeping and had a heart attack! And the stupid a- that was supposed to be watching him had decided to wander off for a drink! Another patient lost! That's the recap of my f-king day! You happy, Lloyd?!" Darryl grabbed a tube of the ooze and hurled it at Lloyd. Lloyd ducked and it soared safely over him.
"Get a grip, Darryl!" Lloyd shouted. He quickly zoomed in on a bottle of Jack Daniels, which sat on the table in the center of the basement. Darryl had been drinking hard liquor, or had he? From the view in the TC-30 camcorder's viewfinder the bottle was still sealed.
"Get a grip, Darryl!" Darryl shouted, in a voice that mocked Lloyd. "Just get out of here, okay Lloyd?!"
"Fine." Lloyd said while shutting of the camcorder. He started his retreat up the stairs. Darryl was definitely insane. Lloyd was sure of that now.
But how would he get help with no phone in this house?
And how would he leave with a madman on his back?


Lloyd tried to concentrate on his book, but it was impossible.
The crashes and the bangs came every five minutes. Darryl was downstairs destroying his home.
Go down there, Lloyd? Go see the INSANITY?
Yes, come see it. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
Lloyd blinked and found himself in the second floor's hallway, the TC-30 camcorder on and recording. He looked sown the hall and saw the pipecase.


There were the sounds of a maniac. Lloyd slowly descended the pipecase. He almost reached the point where he could see the living room . . .
The bat flew towards Lloyd. He jumped down the pipecase and landed hard at the bottom. He mentally checked his body. So far it seemed nothing was broken.
The bat skittered down the stairs and was clutched by a hand, Darryl's hand.
"Lloyd. I can't take them. I just can't. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all." Darryl said. He slowly raised the bat but was knocked down by Lloyd ramming into his legs. Darryl fell back on the couch and landed on a crushed vase.
Lloyd took a brief glance at the TV. Dr. Strangelove was back on. He quickly grabbed Darryl's bat and held it over his brother.
"You're insane." Lloyd said.
"Gimme the bat back!" Darryl screamed.
"Gimme the bat!"
"Listen Darryl, you've gotta listen. Okay?" Lloyd asked.
"Gimme the bat! Kill 'em all! Then no one will know! Kill 'em all!"
"No, Darryl! You aren't getting the bat! Look at what you did!" Lloyd shouted at him. Lloyd took another look around himself. The refrigerator was turned over in the kitchen. The kitchen cabinets were in absolute shambles. Glass was scattered all around. Flowers covered the living room from all the vases that had been smashed. Darryl's stereo system had been reduced to miscellaneous pieces. The gigantic aquarium next to the pipecase was cracked and spilling its contents on the golden carpet.
"I see! I have to kill! Kill 'em all! Then no one will know! Kill 'em all! And you! You are the only one!" Darryl spat.
Is this my brother? Is it really Darryl? Or did that ooze make him this maniac?
"What was the ooze?" Lloyd asked.
"Ooze? What ooze?" Darryl spat back.
"The green stuff. That 'antacid' in the basement."
Darryl just laughed.
"Tell me!"
He laughed harder.
"C'mon! Tell me d-nit!"
He continued to laugh.
Lloyd hit him in the head with the bat. Darryl went out cold.


I sent him out. I hit him. I swore I'd never harm him. But I did. I had to. He's insane. I should leave now. I should get this doctor a doctor. Oh, how terrible that sounds. Look, I've been taping this. Man, this'll sure make a great film.
Darryl was now starting to come around. Lloyd held the bat tightly in his right hand.
"Darryl? Darryl, are you awake?" Lloyd asked in complete paranoia. He felt as if someone was waiting for him. Or Darryl would suddenly become a monster, via his green concoction.
Lloyd looked down at Darryl, lying in his own bed. Lloyd had dragged him up the pipecase and into his bedroom. The glow of the light was soft and yellow in here. The shadows loved to play games on the walls here.
Darryl made some grunts.
"C'mon Darryl, wake up." Lloyd pleaded.
I want him to wake up? I actually want him to wake up? Why? Why do I want this insane maniac awake and conscious? Why?
The question was rhetorical.
A longer stay. What does that mean? Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. What is that? Why do I hear that? What is all of this? Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
"Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all." Darryl said, his first intelligible words as consciousness returned.
"Darryl, why do you say those words? Why are they in my head?" Lloyd asked, begging for the unfathomable answers.
"Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all."
"Darryl, please! I need answers!"
"Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all."
"What does "a longer stay" mean?"
"Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all."
"Darryl! Stop saying that!"
"Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all."
"Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all."
"You better stop!"
"Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all."
"Stop it now!"
Darryl started to laugh. "Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all."
"You are asking for it!"
Darryl just laughed. "Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all."
"Fine, you get it."
"Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all." Darryl continued saying between bursts of laughter.
"Nod if you want this."
Darryl made no gesture at all. He just continued to laugh and say: "Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all."
Lloyd started to laugh with him. He stared Darryl in the face.
Then he hit him four times with the bat.





I hope he's dead. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.


It'd been many hours. Lloyd didn't know how many exactly. He was deep in thought.
Kill him? Kill him? No? Yes? Maybe? Four hits enough? Where'd you hit him? You don't know? Oh, well that's good. You don't know. Perfect. Maybe you should go over there, eh? Go over and beat him till he's a bloody stain on the carpet. Then there's no chance in Hell that that freak will get over here with something to kill you with. Yeah, go over there. C'mon, just go. Go. Go.
The camcorder was on the dresser, taping.
Lloyd caressed the baseball bat.
C'mon go over there. Beat him up. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Yeah, c'mon. Get over there, right now! Do it Lloyd! You've got the strength to do it! Who cares if you said you'd never hurt 'em? Who cares? He's insane. He's a nutcase, a whacko, a psycho, and a basket case. Go over there and beat him to a bloody pulp! Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Yeah! Do it, man! Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. A longer stay. A longer stay. A longer stay. A longer stay. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
Lloyd stood up with his baseball bat in his left hand. Sweat was dripping from every inch of skin on his body. His blonde hair was ruffled and thrown around on his head. He looked like he'd been working a 90-hour shift at the most grueling job in the universe.
But he still picked up the camcorder.
He looked at the bat and then looked at the door.
The door was latched.
He tried to undo the latch but it was no use, he wasn't coherent enough to do such a mundane task. He took the baseball bat and made a thick and full swing at the latch.
That's it! That's it! Let's go over there and bash his face with that bat! C'mon, you can do it! Go! Go! Go! Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Hit it again, Sam!
He made another swing at the latch.
A little more! A little more, Lloyd! You can do it! We're gonna get over there! We'll beat him! Beat and beat and beat and beat! Bash and bash and bash and bash! Go! Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. C'mon, hit it!
Lloyd swung at the latch, but missed.
What was that, Lloyd? Did you try? C'mon! We gotta kill him! We must kill him! Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. A longer stay. A longer stay. Get over there! Take another swing! Take it! Take another swing, Lloyd!

The latch loosened. It hung to one side.
One more, baby. Just one more for that doorknob! You can do it! Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. A longer stay. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. A longer stay. Hit it!
The bat sent the doorknob to the floor. Lloyd swung the bat at the door at it flew open. Time to kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.


Get over there now Lloyd! Get the lead outta you're a-! Move it! Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. A longer stay.
Lloyd walked briskly, anger crawling across his face. He held a camcorder in one hand and a baseball bat in the other. He was headed to the opposite end of this second floor hallway, towards the master bedrooms. Darryl was in there, lying unconscious. Lloyd had to give the insane freak exactly what he wanted: death.
Lloyd passed the other rooms such as the study, the bathrooms, the laundry room, and the other bedrooms. He sent the bat flying into each door he passed.
"Wake up Darryl! I'm coming to getcha!" Lloyd shouted.
Yes. Give him forewarning. It'll be much more fun. A longer stay. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. A longer stay.



Lloyd continued in a mad dash down the infinitesimal hallway. It seemed like as he moved the master bedrooms got further away from him.
Then it happened.
Darryl darted out from a bathroom with a small eight shot revolver in hand. He fired one shot at Lloyd but missed.
"Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all." Darryl said.
Lloyd parroted the phrase. "Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all."
Lloyd made a swipe with the bat. He missed and hit nothing but the atoms before him. Darryl made a careless shot into the air with his revolver. Some ceiling rained upon his head.
Lloyd took the opportunity to hit Darryl in the torso. Darryl fell and rolled away from Lloyd and on down the hallway. Darryl got up without any hesitation. He aimed like a drunk and shot. The bullet hit a picture on the left side of the hallway. Lloyd walked over the shattered picture, the glass crunching under his feet. Lloyd smirked and dashed at Darryl. Darryl shot and was able to graze Lloyd's shoulder-Lloyd broke Darryl's right arm in a flash.
Darryl gave a quick cry of pain and dropped his revolver. Lloyd switched the bat to his right hand and smacked the revolver, doing no apparent damage.
Lloyd made a few whiffs with the bat, all the time Darryl was slowly moving backwards. Lloyd started to laugh hysterically at this cat and mouse game. He looked over at the camcorder and started crying with laughter.
"Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all." Lloyd chanted. "A longer stay, Darryl. A longer stay."
He made a few more quick swipes with the bat.


Darryl grinned and ran towards the pipecase.
Lloyd followed mechanically.


Darryl ran down the hallway like a bat out of Hell.
Time for revenge, my brother.
The broken arm was no longer causing him pain. He didn't need it for what he wanted.
He spun around.
There was Lloyd, his head down and his eyes blue eyes piercing into Darryl's soul. The both grinned. Lloyd took a wide swing at Darryl's side. Darryl clutched the bat as it moved towards him. He pulled upwards and found Lloyd flying over him.
Lloyd landed on his back with a confirming thud. Darryl turned around and pushed him down the pipecase with his foot. He watched his helpless brother tumble downward.
Darryl let out a booming cackle. He walked slowly down the pipecase to see Lloyd on the twelfth step. Darryl laughed again and kicked him further. The bat was resting one step below. Darryl scooped it into his hand and felt powerful.
"C'mon! You can't kill me!" Darryl shouted.
Lloyd slowly rose at the foot of the pipecase. He hobbled to the sofa and acquired a large shard of vase.
"Fine. I will. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all." Lloyd said.
They both ran towards each other. Darryl was swinging the bat madly while Lloyd clutched the shard and his camcorder-which amazingly survived his tumble.
Darryl made a futile swing at Lloyd, who hurled the shard of vase into Darry's chest. Lloyd gave a deep laugh from his belly.
Darryl dropped the bad in shock. He clutched his stomach in slight pain. He gritted his teeth and pulled the bloody shard from his chest. It fell to the rosewood steps of the pipecase.


Lloyd had retrieved the bat. He made a quick swing at Darryl's head. The swing connected perfectly, and soon Darryl was tumbling down the pipecase.
Gotcha good, didn't he Darryl? Let's play some more shall we? Yes. Let's keep playing. This is very, very fun.
Lloyd was on his way down the pipecase now. Darryl got to his feet and grabbed a shard of the vase. He threw it at Lloyd but it missed completely.
Keep the game going! Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
Darryl started to run towards the kitchen. Sadly but true, the game was coming to a close.

You've got him! He's almost dead! Let's get him Lloyd! Let's get him! He's caused you too much pain! Let's get him! Will you get him? Yes. Good. Get him! Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
A huge grin began to fill Lloyd Donaldson's face. In this game of cat and mouse it seemed that he had won.
Lloyd was happy.


The lights were out. The kitchen was dark. Lloyd couldn't see in.
But he heard Darryl.
He was breathing heavily, wheezing and coughing.
Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
He slowly entered the kitchen and saw Darryl standing there with a butcher knife. He was staring with madness at Lloyd.
And Lloyd gave Darryl the same stare.
You're gonna die, Darryl!
I know.
Lloyd moved in on his brother. The voices started to fill his head.
Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. A longer stay. A longer stay. A longer stay. A longer stay. A longer stay. A longer stay. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all. Kill 'em all. Then no one will know. Kill 'em all.
Ready to die, Darryl?
Yes. Kill me.
Lloyd smirked and then let out a long and low scream. Darryl came at him with the butcher knife but Lloyd knocked it away with the bat.
Darryl was defenseless.






Darryl fell to the ground after five hits to the head. Lloyd looked down and saw that he was not breathing.
Lloyd looked over and saw the dog curled into a corner.
"Hello there, little doggie."