The moonlight sliced through the otherwise blackness of the night. The cabin and trees were reflected in the water, as though it were an enormous mirror. There was a stillness that was so silent, it was deafening. He continued running through the woods until finally he could run no more. He wrapped his arm around the tree trunk as in a one armed hug to keep from falling. His lungs hurt and his breathing was more of a steady panting. Perspiration soaked his tee shirt and stung his eyes. He was covered in blood. He let the axe slip from his hand and fall with a thud to the ground. The axe was slathered in both blood and human brain matter. He looked around, his eyes darting rapidly in every direction, and he listened for footsteps, but all was still. No night sounds, not even a gentle rustle of the wind caressing the leaves of the massive trees. The pines stood stately, not even a slight sway at the very tops. The light from the moon could not penetrate the density of the woods and the air was heavy and difficult to draw into his lungs. He had to keep moving but had no idea where he was or in what direction he was headed. He wondered if it would be safe to return to the opposite side of the lake where the log cabin stood so he could wash the blood from his skin and clothing. Some kind of flying insects where hovering around the blood splatters about his face and it annoyed him. He decided he had to return to the lake. The coolness of the water would feel good and he could wash away the blood that covered him from head to toe. Once there he would regain his bearings and know what direction to go in.
The cabin in Twin Pines was owned by the Farthington’s … Paul, Candice, and their two children Philip and Claudia. The Farthington’s would vacation at the cabin twice a year, staying two weeks each time. This provided them with the much needed rest and relaxation. Twin Pines was a tiny community that had a panoramic view of mountains and trees and wild flowers that dotted the hillsides and along the naturally fed spring water brooks and streams. If you craved peacefulness and beauty, Twin Pines offered it all, all year round.
Paul’s body, or what was left to it, sat in a thick pool of blood, tissue, and brain matter in his lazy-boy recliner. He had been approached from behind and with brutal force the axe split his head in two, down to the most upper part of his shoulders. The TV continued to play without an audience and a soft light emitted from the screen cast shadowy figures around the den.
Upstairs in the master bedroom lay the nude body of Candice. Her hands were bound behind her back and each leg was roped and tied to the bed frame on either side, spreading her wide open as she was raped repeatedly. Her nipples had been bitten off and the deep gash across her throat nearly severed her head from her body. Her abdomen had been slashed open and her entrails were completely exposed. Candice had been tortured and suffered greatly before the mercy of death ended it all.
Philip’s body lay in a heap in the walk-in shower … he was cut in two. The blood and gore was on the walls and floor. The water in the shower was still running and chunks of flesh and tissue clogged the drain making the water flow out to the hallway and beyond. The sight was so ghastly that when the bodies of the Farthington family were found, the investigators added their own vomit to the gruesome scene. Philip had just celebrated his high school graduation the week before; he was seventeen.
