Jonah Harland got out and slammed the car door shut. The word Large wouldn’t have done this man justice. Six feet four and rippling with muscles, it was joked that he didn’t drive his car, but wore it. The tank top he was wearing only emphasized that point. He checked his watch and winced.

“Once again, I do apologize for being late,” he drawled out with a slight Texan accent. “Woulda’ been earlier if it wasn’t for my slowpoke younger twin brother.”

The brother in question, one James Harland, was significantly smaller, about five feet eight inches, and half as wide. But he wasn’t to be underestimated; the twins had been in many bar-room brawls, and both had various scars on their person to prove it.

“Four minutes younger, Joe,” The brother in question said, punching Jonah’s arm.

“Forty minutes late, Jimmy,” Jonah quipped.

“An hour late if we don’t get a move on!” Sarah interrupted. She had a ring of keys in her hand, and she was tossing them up and catching it in an easy, casual manner.

“Sarah’s right. Can we just get to the game already?” Allison chimed in.

“Sure thing,” Sarah agreed. “As soon as Cain and Abel here stop-”

There was a clack noise as Sarah’s keys clattered across the floor, underneath Jonah’s car.

Sarah cursed under her breath, got onto her hands and knees, and looked under the car.

“You know what?” She said, still trying to reach her keys. “You go on, I’ll catch up with you later.”

They walked on. After about thirty seconds of quiet shuffling, Jimmy broke the silence.

“Y’know, I read somewhere that jellyfish only have a mouth and nothin’ else, so all that waste stuff from their digestive system comes outta their mouth, too.”

“You’re sayin’ you’re a jellyfish?” Jonah said without skipping a beat, and then laughed uproariously at his own joke.

“Aww, come on,” Jonah began, “I was only trying to-”

They heard a scream from Jonah’s car.

“What was that?” Allison asked. Jimmy already knew.

“Sarah!” he yelled, turning back and running. Jonah and Allison followed close behind. “Sarah! You okay?”

Jimmy was about twenty feet away from them when he stopped and looked down. What he saw hit him like a punch. He turned around and started muttering.

“Oh God, oh God, ohgodohgodohgod,” he said.

“What? Where’s Sarah?” Jonah shouted.

Jimmy looked down again.

Sarah was dead, that much was sure. There was a large gash across her face, and her throat was slit. A lot of blood had poured out of the wounds, matting down her blond hair. There were several knife wounds in her stomach. Her shirt was torn. The smell of blood was so thick, so strong, it made Jimmy want to puke.

“She’s dead!” Jimmy shouted across the parking lot.

“What?” Jonah yelled. “This ain’t funny, Jimmy!”

“I’m tellin’ the truth! She got stabbed or somethin’, I don’t know.”

Jimmy leaned on the white, unmarked van next to the car, closing his eyes. Jonah and Allison rushed towards him. They were about ten feet away when the van door slid open. Jimmy jumped at the shock.

Jonah and Allison saw a pair of hands grab Jimmy and pull him inside the van. The van door slammed shut.

Muffled yelling could be heard from inside, and the van was rocking back and forth as the two people fought inside the van. After ten seconds, everything stopped.

Jonah got over the initial shock and ran to the van.

“Jimmy! Jimmy!” Jonah screamed. He started banging his fists on the door.

The door slid open. Jimmy jumped out and slammed the door shut again.

“Oh, God, Jim, what happened?” Jonah was frantic.

“Some psycho tried to jump me! I stopped him pretty quick, though. He’s knocked out in his own van right now. He’s lucky I don’t go back in there and bash his face in over what he did to her.”

“What he did to … who? What’s going on?”

Jimmy pointed at Sarah. Jonah, still confused, followed the finger, and saw what he was pointing at. His face paled.

“Holy-” he caught himself, took a deep breath, and exhaled, sweat dripping from his face. He stood still for a minute or so.

“The guy who did this is still in there?” Jonah asked at last.

“That’s right.”

Jonah stared at him, unbelieving.

“How could you be so calm about this?” he said. “I mean, we’ve got a dead person on our hands, Jim!”

Jonah stormed past him before he could say anything, and threw the door of the van open. He was about to step inside, but then stopped abruptly.

He was wrong. There were two dead people. And the one in the van was Jimmy Harland. He was shirtless, and there was a large wound in his chest, as if someone had rammed a large knife through it.

Jonah turned around and looked at the person behind him. All of a sudden, he noticed that the living Jim didn’t look quite right. His body was slightly taller than usual, and a little lankier, less muscular.

“But you’re-”

“Not actually your brother,” fake-Jim replied, casually drawing a knife from seemingly nowhere and stabbing Jonah in the gut.

Jonah’s eyes widened as he felt the knife slip into his abdomen. He leaned back onto the van. The killer pulled the knife out again, and Jonah screamed as blood started pouring out of his stomach.

“You … killed Jimmy?” he rasped, gasping for breath.

“And the girl.” Fake-Jim was smiling now, a grin that Jonah was all too familiar with. It was the grin that his little brother made whenever he played a prank or cracked a joke. That’s what this monster thought it was. A joke.

“YEAAAAAAARGH!” Jonah yelled. He threw a sucker punch at fake-Jim, which he took in the face. Fake-Jim dropped the knife and stumbled back. He recovered in time to see Jonah charging him, his rage numbing his pain.

Jonah punched again, but the killer sidestepped it and countered with his own punch. Jonah caught the killer’s wrist, grabbed his shirt, then torqued his own body and thew him into the van. Fake-Jim flew inside with a crash, barely missing Jim’s corpse.

Jonah clutched at his wound. He started to feel dizzy. He was losing far too much blood, and his heart was pounding, sending more of it out with every beat.

He closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath, and opened them again to find the man wearing his brother’s face leaping at him from inside the van.

He tried bringing his arms up to defend himself, but he was too weak, and the killer shoved him. His back hit the door of his own car, and the killer spun him round and slammed his face into the car window.

Jonah collapsed onto the ground, his nose bloody. He tried to get up, but the killer kicked him and he fell down again, groaning in pain.

Fake-Jim calmly picked up his knife and rammed it into Jonah’s lower back, pushing the knife until the entire blade had been drove in, right up to the hilt.

Jonah screamed and thrashed his arms, until the killer stomped on his neck. There was a sickening crack, and he stopped.

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