I'm An Actress On The Set Of a Low-budget Slasher Film. I Think They're Really Killing Off My Co-stars PART ELEVEN

PART TEN
"Marie!" Seth screamed her name and turned to bolt blindly out of the RV. Tyrese restrained him.
"Wait, Seth--"
"Let me go!"
"Listen to me--"
"They're going to kill her!" Seth fought back wildly.
"We don't even know where she is!" Tyrese shouted at him. "We can't help her till we know where to go!"
I was staring at the webcam. Marie raised her head and looking at the camera pleadingly, tears in her eyes. There was no one else in the shot with her, and the camera view was static, leading me to believe it might be mounted on a tripod.
I thought I spotted something behind her and leaned closer, squinting. In the darkness behind Marie, I could just barely discern a huge, bulky, rectangular shape. It was familiar somehow. It almost looked like...
"Guys!" I called out. "Come look at this!" The other three gathered around the laptop. I pointed. "You see that?"
They studied the webcam. "What is that?" Tim asked.
"It looks like a furnace." I turned to look at them. "And where do most places keep their furnace?"
"The basement!" Tyrese said, catching on.
"But Ray didn't say anything about the lodge having a basement!" Seth said.
"Ray didn't tell us a lot of things, Seth!" I countered.
"But where would the entrance be?" Tim asked.
"My guess would be somewhere in the kitchen," I answered. "That's where the basement door is in most places."
"Let's go, then! Hurry!" he replied.
We left the RV and headed back to the lodge, moving as fast as we could through the snowstorm.
When we got to the front entrance, Tim stopped and began looking frantically around. "Hey! Where'd Tyrese go?"
Me and Seth looked around. Tyrese was nowhere in sight.
"Tyrese!" Seth shouted, his voice lost to the howling wind. There was no answer.
"What the **** happened to him?" I asked.
"Oh ****," Tim said, grimly, "they must have gotten him."
I looked around again, but it was like he had vanished into thin air. I looked at the tracks we had made in the snow on our way back from the RV. There were only three pairs. "Maybe he's still in the RV," I said, and started back in that direction.
"There's no time!" Tim shouted, "we have to save Marie! Come on!" He was right. With a last glance back, I followed him and Seth back inside.
We entered and made a beeline for the kitchen. None of us had really spent much time exploring it before. It was a huge room with industrial-sized stainless-steel appliances. We looked around. There were two side-by-side steel doors on one wall. I opened the first. It was a huge walk-in freezer. I shut it and tried the next door. It led to a large pantry stocked with a lot of dry and canned food. I started to close it...then paused, spotting something half-hidden in the rear behind a stack of boxes. I entered for a closer look. There was a wooden door in the back wall. I opened it and found myself looking at a stairway leading down into blackness. I closed it and and went back into the kitchen. "You guys, I found it!"
I led them into the pantry and showed them the door.
"Let's go!" Seth said, starting forward.
"Wait a minute," I said, stopping him, "we can't just go down there unarmed!"
We began looking around for anything that would serve as a suitable weapon. Seth spotted a glassed-in firebox on the wall with a huge fire-ax inside. He kicked the glass in and removed the ax. I selected a huge butcher knife from a knife stand on the counter. Tim grabbed a meat cleaver.
We entered the pantry and went to the door in back. I exchanged nervous, scared looks with the other two. Tim nodded to me. I grasped the knob and turned it. I opened the door. We looked down at the stairs descending into the dark. I aimed my flashlight and we started down.
When we got to the bottom, I aimed my flashlight around. We listened, but it was dead silent. All we could hear was our own breathing.
"Hey!" Tim whispered, "listen! Do you hear something?"
I listened. I could hear a soft, steady trickling sound. Like water from a faucet cracked open slightly. It seemed to be coming from to the right of us. We turned in that direction. I shined my light...and we saw what was making that sound. Oh God, I thought in horror and revulsion, but didn't say.
Twenty feet away was Marie. We were too late to save her. She hung limply from the ropes tied around her wrists. Her head hung back over her shoulders. Her throat had been slit. And she had been disemboweled. The trickling sound was her blood running down her body onto the basement floor. A large man clad entirely in black, a ski mask over his head, was standing before her, his back to us, doing something that at first I couldn't understand. Then it hit me and a wave of disgust swept over me. He was masturbating to her dead, butchered body.
Seth broke the silence. He wailed, a soul-rending sound of pure anguish. "Marie! Nooooo!"
The large man stopped what he was doing and spun around to face us. He wore Night Vision goggles over his eyes. He reached for a bloody knife on a table next to him.
In a blind rage, Seth charged him, raising the ax. "*******!" He swung the ax at the man's reaching arm, breaking it. The man yelled in pain. Seth swung the ax again, burying it deep into the man's chest. The man groaned and fell backwards, the ax still protruding from his chest.
Seth stepped over him and went to Marie. "Oh, no..." he moaned. He reached out and gently touched her face. He lowered his head. His shoulders were hitching convulsively. I could hear him sobbing.
Tim and I just stood there transfixed in shock and horror, taking in the gruesome tableau before us.
After what seemed like an eternity, Seth stopped crying. He turned around and looked down at the dead man on the ground. His tear-streaked face was a cold mask of fury. He was shaking. "MOTHER****ER!" he grabbed the ax and yanked it from the man's chest. He raised it high above his shoulders to swing down again into Marie's already-dead murderer.
Behind him, a second large, black-clad, ski-masked man wearing Night Vision goggles appeared from the shadows, holding a knife of his own.
I screamed a warning: "Look out, Seth!" It was already too late.
The second masked man grabbed Seth by the hair and pulled his head back. He shoved the blade of the knife through Seth's right cheek and the tip came out through his left cheek. Then the man yanked the blade forward, through Seth's mouth, slicing both cheeks open. Blood gushed from Seth's hideously extended mouth. He emitted a gurgling sound. He dropped the ax and it clattered to the ground. The man swiped the blade across Seth's midsection, slicing through his sweater...and the flesh beneath it. Seth's intestines spilled from the gash and fell out onto the floor with a plop!
My paralysis broke. Shrieking, I darted forward, raising the butcher knife in my hands and slammed it into the second masked man's throat, driving it in to the hilt.
He dropped Seth's corpse and staggered back, reaching for the knife sticking out of his throat, gagging. He crashed to the floor on his back.
I stood over him, panting, shocked by what I had just done. Tim came over and put his hands on my shoulders. "It's okay, Kassie," he told me gently. "It's over."
"No it ain't!" a deep, gravelly voice said behind us. The voice of the man who had killed Mad. We spun around. A third man dressed in black and a ski mask stood between us and the stairway. He held his hunting knife in one hand. I could see he was grinning through the mouth hole of his mask. "You still got me to deal with," he said and started walking towards us. Tim and I backed away, trapped.
Suddenly a gunshot rang out. The man stopped walking. He fell to his knees, a small, round red hole in the center of the mask over his forehead. He fell on his face, dead.
Startled, we looked up.
Tyrese was standing on the stairs, aiming a nine-millimeter handgun in the direction of the third man. I was too stunned to even wonder when he had gotten the gun.
"Tyrese!" I said, "Thank God! We thought you were--"
I stopped because Tyrese had changed the angle of his gun, now aiming it in my direction. I froze.
"Tyrese, what are you--"
"Kassie," he interrupted. Come over here right now, girl. Come to me."
I stared at him, feeling my heart sink. I suddenly remembered that cryptic phone conversation I had seen him having in his room earlier that day.
"Come over here to me, Kassie." he repeated.
"Oh God," I whispered. "You're one of them, aren't you?"
"No Kassie, it ain't like that, but you gotta--"
Just then I felt someone grab my hair and pull my head back. I felt cold, hard, sharp steel pressed against my throat. I realized at that second that Tyrese hadn't been aiming the gun at me... he'd been aiming it at the person standing behind me.
"Drop the ****ing gun!" Tim demanded in a cold, threatening voice I had never heard him use before.
"Tim!" I began, "what are you--"
"Shut the **** up, ****!' he shouted in my ear, then said to Tyrese: "drop the goddamn gun or I am going to cut this bitch's ****ing throat and you can watch her bleed out right in front of you!"
"Let her go, Tim!" Tyrese ordered. "It's over and you know it!"
"You think I'm ****ing joking?" Tim said, and to prove his point, he dragged the blade slightly over my throat, breaking skin. I felt blood trickle down. I shrieked.
"You have three ****ing seconds to drop that gun or her blood is on your ****ing hands, Tyrese! One! Two! Th--"
"No!" Tyrese yelled. "Don't! I'll do it! You win, Tim." He lowered his gun and placed it on the floor.
"Now kick it over to me!" Tim commanded.
Tyrese did, the gun skidding across the floor, stopping at our feet. Keeping the knife pressed to my throat, Tim reached down with his free hand and retrieved the pistol. He aimed it at Tyrese, who raised his hands over his head in surrender. Tyrese's eyes met mine. They were apologetic.
"You are one sick ****, Tim," Tyrese told him. "And you ain't gonna get away with this."
"Look on the bright side, Tyrese," Tim replied, and even though I couldn't see his face, I could tell he was grinning. "For a change, the black guy ain't dying first in the horror movie, he's dying last!" Then, with a glance at me, Tim shrugged and corrected himself. "Well, second to last, anyway."
He fired the gun four times, shooting Tyrese in the chest. Tyrese was knocked back, sprawling to the ground on his back. He lay there, not moving.
I screamed. Tim raised the gun and smashed it down on my head, hard.
Everything went black.


Source.