The slightly opened door was a bit of a complexing surprise.

Had the door been open the entirety of mine and Talek's convers; how da'hell would I'd not notice that?

Had it blown past me outside and gotten ahead of me when I was technically incapacitated; was it the reason why the bricks fell as to render the dramatics as a plausible diversion?

Whatever the case may be – I was more than a little fed up with this whole cat and bat chase that was revolving around me.

I pressed my lips tightly in agitation towards this menacing idiocy. I was absolutely done!

Stepping through the threshold was easy enough, though I can't wittingly deny the sudden hesitation belling through my ears.

I wasn't quite the hero as Nikki had been proclaimed back in our hometown, yet, I was unwilling to be the bud of any ruse that seemed to be planning for gaining her attention. How original and thought provoking.

The small kitchenette to my right had not much out of place, except for a few knives strewed all over the counter. This shines towards no pleasant outcome.

A butcher knife stretched out next to my shoe with its' silvery metal shape. Subconsciously, picking up the steel – I made a tiny wish that I wasn't about to

have to put this to wicked use.

I strolled by the rest of the kitchen; the tiny living room was in a descrambled mess: coffee table (a trunk we used for another place for weaponry, underneath actual throws; must keep the illusion well lived) was in sizeable splinters. Suddenly, my eyes glazed over the axe handle peeking out from underneath the grey toned chair-and-a-half – which, now did resemble an actual chair-and-a-half.

Dropping the butcher knife immediately to grab hold of the axe, I held it close as I quickly stood up-right again. I could hear a mumbling squabble wavering from Nik's room – it's always something from her room.

Stammering over bits of another side table, as well as a chunk of my favorite chair in the house: the love seat.

Grimacing at the thought of not having any piece of mind in the morning with a cup of coffee and that chair, miffed me off more so than when my spirit stick went for an unprecedented traveling joyride a week ago. It appears that anything that belongs to yours truly gets the 'axe' when trouble comes trolling near.

Slowly pacing my steps onto the planks of wood floor; sure, it was about to give way to my presence. I managed to make it to the closed door and placed an ear suitably close enough against 'the ones' room.

Straining to get any cohesive syllables put together; doing all my best interpretations of the tongue-tied language being groaned in the next room.

Then, as if a lightning bolt from Zeus came bolting up my arse with cognizance – I was immediately aware of why the mess (well, one theory came to mind) and of this hush-hush dialect.

**

I burst through the door with the axe unconsciously wielded, blaring forth like a southern maniac in hysterics; my banshee holler screeched to a quickened halt when the other party member wetting the sheets with Nikki, sent a quiver of doubt of who my best friend had become here.

The gurgling crashing the inner lining of my stomach played battleship with the anguish climbing up higher through my chest; making an extreme effort to flow straight out of my esophagus.

Riley!

The supposed freshly made creature of the night, whom she promised that she had taken care of.

Where had I fallen down the hatchet at? Was this a completely fantasized nightmare?

Their bodies only covered from complete nudity with strategically placed limbs, and a few patches of sheet; though – Riley wasn't an eye-sore to behold beneath the softened light's glow from the opened window.

Though his cumbersome 'demon' facial bumps dotted by blotches of sweat pearls, seized tighter onto my throat.

So, is that why she met up with Blayke too?

Solid confirmation had obviously been put together here. My best friend has an unnatural hankering for monster sausage.

I was flabbergasted, without an ounce of mush to speak of.

It's not the first time I've ever seen Nikki in her 'birthday suit', but it certainly was the first time that I've seen her peened deep of an undead guy – that I knew of.

Great! suddenly my head was baffled with question upon question.

I released the grappling hook from the wooded handle; dropping it to the floor with an expected metal to wood cling. I shrugged with an instantly gritty huffed laugh.

"You sure took care of that, didn't you, 'Nik?'" I quipped, turning to leave the room.

I rapidly understood Ben's comment from the other night.

'She's done this before...' his voice resounding the tone again.

The things you gradually learn, are never truly easy to digest at any point and time.

Quickly as I had no more than reached for my own door's handle, whirling wind cascaded effortlessly, whipping by my face; a metallic spring –

flexing left to right – as resembling a childhood cartoon shifted to a graphic late-night horror movie – spliced the oak in front of my bulging eyes:

THE AXE!