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[B]517 Park Street, Atlanta, GA[/b]
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“Honey, it’s okay…” The man was comforted his crying wife with a firm embrace. The tears were fighting to leave his eyes as he not only held her but looked into the eyes of his son in the picture. “It’s going to be okay.” He reassured as she sobbed warm tears into his chest. A knock on the door sounded, but the two had been so caught up in their moment together, that it took the second knock to get their attention. “I’ll get it.” The father didn’t think his wife appeared to be the best person to answer the door. He eased off of his firm hold and let her go before kissing her forehead. He then headed to the door, but there was a third knock before he even got to the door. “Hold on! I’m coming. Who is it?” He strung the words together before putting his eye to the peephole to see a black man with a badge held up to the door. He didn’t recognize it but motioned to unlock the door. The click… the click of the latch opening

The door smashed right into the man’s face as it was forced open the moment it was unlocked. The father grunted and stumbled back while holding his face before being grabbed by the collar and repeatedly stabbed in his abdomen. He swung at the intruder, but it didn’t stop… The blade entered and left his body without interruption until his wife screamed out.

“LARRY!” She screamed out as she walked upon the horrific scene of her husband being brutally stabbed. The assailant’s eyes met hers as he threw her husband down to the ground and WHAM! The front door was flung shut before he lunged at her next. She screamed bloody murder as she put her hands up. CRACK! His knuckles collided with the front teeth, knocking two out clean and loosening the others. She fell backwards into the table where her son’s memorial was adorned. She grabbed it to break her fall and it kept her on her feet. The glass table slid and down the picture of her son fell. Its frame broke apart on the hardwood floor.  Her screams had become a sickening groan of pain and terror as she couldn’t fully open her mouth. The intruder didn’t even give her enough time to even lay her eyes on him before he got a good grip of her strawberry blonde hair and slammed it through the face of the glass table. And then she was tossed into the center of her living room, her body crashed onto the floor. It hurt to open her eyes even. She could feel the sharp glass all over her face then felt a powerful blunt blow to her ribcage. The wind knocked out of her. Again on the same side. She couldn’t even gasp for air the way she wanted. She internally begged for it all to end before feeling a sharp pain stab into her back repeatedly. Her death did not take long to come after this. 

The father was still alive, struggling to move as he dragged himself across the floor. There was the aim to help his wife, but how would he do anything? When he saw his wife’s killer stand up from over her body, he knew it was his time. It was fucked up, but he let himself think of his son and his wife. Maybe he’d see them. He wasn’t religious, but he truly wanted to believe that he was going wherever they were now. He would not go so easily. He felt a boot stomp into the side of his head. Then again. Then again. Moments later he was dragged to the living room, where he would lie beside his beloved, his face caved in and unrecognizable. The son’s picture was taken and the word “DEMON” was written in red over his face. The man left the home with gas running and several candles lit. The picture was then stuffed into the mailbox. The murderer made his exit. It wouldn’t be long until authorities responded to a gas leak and a home set ablaze with two bodies of the homeowners brutalized.