Invader Party: STOP- Hammer time.

Doomathen Isaac Bitters sat in his cell, waiting for death.

It was a cold, gray room with a blanket and a pillow, no doors and only one window. In the other execution rooms, there was one-way glass so the victims families could see the death, but the glass in his cell was two-way and bore glaring family members, waiting for the show to start.

He couldn't blame them. He had brought their children to die. He was a coward, a man who let himself be intimidated by a little boy with a pair of sewing scissors. He had, in his own part, been the one behind those sewing scissors, carving tongues and ending innocent lives.

Mother sat in the front, her silver hair drawn into a bun atop her head. She wore a ragged old dress, which he always thought made her look like a witch. She completed this look with a thin figure and face, a crooked nose, hunched shoulders, tiny glasses and black boots. The look on her face did not say, "you hideous monstrosity" as the others did. When her eyes spoke to them, they were saying, "we are both murderers, son. I'm in no place to judge you, which I don't, and I ask you do the same for me."

and then the gas came. Green, thick, foul-smelling stuff that oozed like liquid through the vents. The second it hit his nostrils, Doomathen broke into a hacking, wheezing cough. The gas surged down his trachea, tearing a cut down on its way to his lungs. He began coughing up blood. The gas kept coming. If he wanted to speak, he couldn't have. The gas seemed to climb into his throat and stay there, sitting in his chest and throat.

Their voices echoed in his ears. You deserved this, they said, you did this to yourself, you're a monster and a child killer and you deserve this pain. eventually, their angry faces were lost in the thick green mist, but his coughs did nothing to drown out their jeering, angry yells.

and then everything turned dark.

little did he know, his agony (and mothers') were just beginning.

Doomathen's eyelids opened. He was in the dark hallways he had roamed so many nights, the polished floors and perfect windows waiting for the ungrateful brats to come back and ruin his job. All his work was gone. The floors were splintering and rotting away, leaving holes anyone could fall into, the paint was chipping, the doors barely hung on their hinges, the windows foggy, bloodstained, and full of cracks.

He was wearing what he wore on the day the children died. Brown, industrial-style gloves, a green trench coat, a greyish-white t-shirt, black work pants and black, hard, sturdy, orthopaedic boots.

a hammer was floating in mid-air. Take me, it beckoned, take me. He reached out an industrial gloved hand and gripped the metal handle in his fist. At that moment, something changed inside Doomathen. The little monsters in the school deserved death. And he would bring it.

slowly.

and.

painfully.

The door appeared to be jammed shut. Miana beat on the door, the children drawing ever closer, the picture of Dib's rusty, blood-caked scissors most predominant in her head. He could remove a child's head, his close friend's head at that. It hadn't mattered that he'd known her. He'd kill her. Would the same rule apply to Miana? Would he care that she not only watched his Paranormal Activity shows, but found them as fascinating as he did? She noticed the evidence he gathered against his friend, and began to doubt herself that he was human. That doubt was turned into certainty when she saw his organs, broken antennae and mysterious organs. Would Dib care?

No. The answer was obvious. No, he wouldn't care, he would relish her torture as he killed her. He would kill red first, just to add to her torment. The poor thing had gone insane, and the monster who killed his innocence had broken his sanity as well.

Red let out a triumphant cry. The door had swung open, revealing pure darkness. "C'mon!" He roared, yanking her inside and slamming the door shut. they kept their ears (or antennae, in Red's case) pressed to the door. The children seemed to march past, calling out for their loved ones, for anyone, to end the perpetual pain.

For a very brief moment, they sat in silent darkness, listening to eachother breathe heavily and the horrified, adrenaline-filled pumping of their own hearts. Then-

"no way.... He didn't!... And he just stood there? He didn't try to find out more?... Oh. Hahaha. I know guys like that..." The voice of a young man echoed from somewhere in the room. It seemed to be talking and laughing with someone.

Miana recognized the voice. "Jase?"

a light flickered. Jase looked at them, his blonde, shaggy hair matted to his face with sweat. His school uniform shirt, a white dress shirt, was clinging to his think sweaty body. The knees in his green dress pants were torn and bloody. One of his  shoes was missing. His gold and green striped tie was loose and uneven. He was clutching a lighter in his hand (he was an avid smoker at fourteen) and his grey eyes seemed sunken and frightened. His vision focused on Miana, and his faced broke into a giant grin. "Mimi! You're ok!" He threw the light aside, and a woman's hand, glowing a pale bluish white like the other spirits, caught it. Jase rushed to her and wrapped her in a strangling hug.

"gak... Jase... Stop!"

He let go almost immediately. "Sorry." Then his eyes flicked to the hand, holding his lighter. "Oh, uh, guys, this is Ellen."

instead of bringing the light up to her face, she brought it down and to the side, exposing the closed-eyed, solemn face of the broken-neck woman. Ellen's voice seemed to echo in Miana's brain. New children, it sighed. Such a good son I have, who sends me more children.

"Jase, what are you doing here?" Demanded Miana. "Where are mom, Becky and Nicky?"

Jase crossed his eyes, as though trying hard to call their location to the front of his brain. However, despite his efforts, he looked up and shrugged, scratching his head. "I... I can't remember. That's weird. Anyway," his face turned suddenly businesslike. "When you find them, tell Beck I'm ok. I... I'm gonna stay with Ellen."

"what?!" Exclaimed Miana. "Jase, that's stupid! What about your mom?" She was expecting a daughter, and her two children meant the world to her.

Jase looked confused. "Mom's right here." He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb toward Ellen. "I can't leave her."

Ellen gave a small smile. Good boy, she whispered. Such a good boy. I barely deserve him.

Melina glowered at Ellen. "What did you do to him? He doesn't want to be here, I know it."

Jase's always-present anger was returning. "But I do, Mel." He said firmly. "I do." Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny, burlap sack with a note tying it closed. He looked at it, confused, then tried to throw it out an open window.

an ear-shattering shriek perforated the air. The little boy with no arms and no legs rushed in, and Jase shot up into the air. A low, long moan escaped his throat, his head lolling hopelessly foreword. He seemed to be hanging, his body limp and lifeless, but his chest barely rising and falling. 

"Jase!" Cried Miana. She grabbed one of his hands and tugged hard. "Jase, open your eyes! Jase!"

nothing. Not even an eyelid flutter.

"Jase!" She yelled again. "Jase!"

He can't hear you, sweetie. Crooned Ellen. Keef is making him sleep. He cannot move, nor can he feel or hear much of anything.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, LADY?!!?" Her scream would've made Jase proud, but Miana didn't care. Her friend was clearly in danger, and the woman who he claimed to be his mother, whom he was willing to throw his life away for, was just sitting and doing nothing.

You will fix this, dear. I know you will. You truly can. Jessica, the headless girl floated in, and Jase spread his arms, his feet pointing like an arrow at the ground. He looked like Katie Bell when she was cursed, in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, except she couldn't cast a spell and bring him down.

Miana swallowed. "What do I do?"

Repentance, dear. Repentance.

and the door flew open, as she and red were thrown out the door, it slammed shut behind them.