"Kelly, just open the door. Please."

"Screw you!" Kelly screams through the tears that had finally managed to escape. Now if only she can. Her palms ache from holding onto the door handle for so long, and she catches them almost slipping from the built-up sweat. The door pushes inwards and she shoves herself against it, using her shoulder, and leans her head against the door as she continues to weep. "How could you do that to your own family?!"

"You don't understand!" Shane hollers from the other side. She can feel the handle shake once more before it becomes still and figures that he had finally let go. Suddenly, the door rattles against its wooden frame as he pounds on it. "She wanted to leave me and take our kids. She said she wasn't even going to let them see me, Kelly! I had to find a way to keep them in my life. You don't get it though. That's fine. I'll help you understand."

She doesn't respond.

Relaxing his fist, he places a flat hand against the door and picks at a piece of peeling paint with one of his fingernails. It reminds him, in a rather pleasant way, of his wife's skin. "Like I did to Debbie."

Shane suddenly grabs the doorknob and twists it, pulling the door wide open to where it slams against the kitchen wall—to see nobody standing on the other side. He steps forward, peering down into the pitch black basement as he quickly grows agitated once again. "Kelly?!"

He reaches over for the light switch, flicking the dim light on, before slowly descending the steps.

"Where are you, Kelly?" The last wooden step creaks under his weight as he reaches the bottom of the staircase. He gazes around the small room, not seeing her anywhere. Where the group of mannequins used to sit now remains only two female adult mannequins, empty spaces between them. "Please don't make this more difficult than it has to be."

Covering her mouth, Kelly gazes up at the light shining down at her through the thin splits in the wooden table that she hides under. The knife trembles in her hand and, as she sees his feet getting closer and closer, her clench on its handle tightens.

"Debbie loved how you handled the kids. Even after that little hiccup you had in the dining room she said that you are a very sweet young woman." Shane smiles, as if he were actually reminiscing on a real conversation he had with his wife. "Quite frankly, we can use a live-in nanny. Someone to always be here and watch after the kids. That is, if you'll have us."

His feet stop just inches from the table and, as he looks around the basement, his shoes point directly at her. "Kelly, co—"

The blade digs into the outer arch of his left foot and, grunting, he looks down to see as Kelly lifts the knife and stabs at it again.

"SICK FREAK!" Kelly crawls out from under the table, snatching a plaster mold shaped like a small animal from on top of it and using it to heavily swing it into his jaw.

Shane tumbles to the ground, groaning as he attempts to reach for the handle of the knife to pull it out from his shoe. She tosses the mold down at him before turning to run for the stairs. He reaches out to grab her ankle but barely misses and screams as he punches at the concrete floor.

As he hears her footsteps pound against the wooden staircase, he glances down at the knife sticking out from the top of his left shoe. He inhales deeply before leaning down and grabbing onto the handle, quickly pulling it out from his foot. Blood seeps from inside his shoe, overflowing from his ankle socks as he jumps up to his feet and is somehow able to mentally block out the pain.

Panting, Kelly manages to quickly get to the top of the stairs. As she enters the kitchen, she nearly slips on the floor running so fast but catches herself on the wall. She quickly cuts through the dining room and, as she passes the table, turns around to see Shane just as he stumbles out through the basement doorway. He peers over at her, breathing heavily as he holds onto the bloodied knife that impaled his foot just moments ago. His face narrows before he charges in her direction, quickly entering the dining room swinging the knife wildly in the air

Screaming, Kelly turns back around when her foot kicks one of the legs on the last chair—sending Deborah's body leaning over and tumbling against her just as Shane swings the knife at her. She falls to the floor, Deborah's corpse pinning her down as it lands on top of her, the blade of Shane's knife thrusting into his wife's chest.

Kelly claws at the floor as she squirms out from underneath Deborah's incredibly light, yet stiff as a board, body. She stares at him, watching as he breaks down over his already-deceased wife, as she struggles to get to her feet.

"Debbie?" Still holding onto the knife's handle, he looks down at his wife as tears form in his eyes. He reaches up to touch her cheek with his free hand.

Shane's eyes quickly narrow as he peers up at Kelly, watching as she runs toward the entryway. His clench tightens onto the knife as he plunges it out from Deborah's chest and jumps to his feet.

Finally reaching the front door, Kelly grabs at the deadbolt and, with a quick twist, unlocks it. She quickly pulls at the handle, swinging the door open as she steps out onto the porch and lets out an ear-splitting, high pitched cry for help.

But it's soon interrupted as a hand clasps over her mouth and another around her stomach, Shane lifting her up from the wooden planks below. Kelly kicks in the air helplessly and he pulls her back inside with ease.

The front door slams shut and the light glaring from above the porch is abruptly cut off. Through the drapes covering the windows near the entryway, two shadows can be seen struggling with one another until just one remains standing.