Chapter 10

That night the band assembled nervously. Throughout the entire football game they huddled together in protective crowds like a frightened herd. Each section stuck together not letting their eyes off of each other from worry. Those who were couples within the band locked arms during their time in the stands and during the third quarter (which was where they could just walk around freely) none of them left the stands. Even the percussionists were terrified of being separated from the rest of the band and end up killed by the psycho.

When the band reached their room after the game everyone let out a deep breath. They were safe, no way the killer would try to kill them now that the night was almost over.

Key word was "almost."

Jennifer returned from the uniform and grabbed up the hatboxes from around the trumpet section. "Hey Brandon, you want me to put these away for.....Aaaahh!"

There was her section leader spread out on the top step of the band room risers. His left arm was draped over the chair he always sat in, nicknamed "Mah Chair." His body was motionless and a small group of about seven band members huddled around it.

His trumpet had not been put away yet and the bell was drenched in his blood. It had been used as a weapon. The back half of his head had been bashed in, his skull was smashed and pieces of bone, brains, and flesh clung with the sticky deep red blood to his sandy-brownish hair. Blood covered the back of his neck and leaked down to the unbuttoned collar of his uniform. His glasses hung from the front of his face at an odd angle and looked bent out of shape. Part of his trumpet's bell was still stuck in the back of his head, right about where the spinal cord connects with the brain stem.

From across the room another scream was heard. Everyone jumped. It couldn't be another murder, could it?

"It's Borbo!" Becca shouted. Hurried footsteps ensued. Katie returned to Jennifer and affirmed that another trumpet player had been killed. The other Brandon. He too had been hit over the head with the his trumpet. Blood was quickly spilling all over the carpet where he laid in the doorway to the tuba room.

Mac came out from his office in an attempt to set everything in order when he was interrupted by another scream. Everyone was in a panic and although there were now not more than forty band members they milled around, some with half their uniform or parts of their uniforms flailing around, causing utter confusion.

Soon it became known that it had been Kristen who had been killed. Jennifer huddled with Daniella and Katie as she found that all the upperclassmen who had taken her under their wings had been viciously killed. Daniella understood what she felt and gave her a short hug.

Kristen had been hit on the back of the head too. Her silver trumpet was now a deep crimson around the valve casings. She had been hit with the side of her instrument. The blood from its owner leaked into its valves, ruining the felts and springs. Her eyes had a slightly shocked look around them and she still had her hand in the secret pocket of the uniform jacket.

Kristen's skull had been crushed inwards in the same manner as Brandon's and sight of it was just utterly repulsing. None wanted to stand near her body.

"Oh Katie! This is just awful!"

"I know Jennifer, I know. We're no closer to knowing who did it either."

Daniella shivered. "Oh Jenny, who do you think's done it? I mean look..we weren't even safe in the company of the entire band." Realization dawned on her. "The killer's still around us!"

Katie gave both of them a terrified look.

"Hey, has anyone seen Breanne?" Danielle asked the other three girls.

"No," Jennifer shook her head.

"Has anyone?"

"Nope," Daisy said in passing.

"Maybe the killer's gotten her too!" Danielle gave them a worried look.

"Aaaaaaaaaaah!" Another scream broke through the already too thick with panic and fearful air of the band room.

Tiffany, a sophomore in the trumpet section, pointed down at her fallen friend.

On the second row of the risers lay Breanne's body. It was mangled in the same way as the other three trumpet players'. Her own instrument had been her demise. Everyone in close proximity shuddered. How had the murderer been so close?

Breanne's uniform jacket lay on the ground near her. It too was becoming soaked with blood. The whole floor of the band room seemed to be covered with stains now from the previous murders and everyone feared to tread on the dried blood of their fallen members.

The remaining section leaders huddled together in whispers. Matt, Andy, Priscilla, and Andrew- most likely to become the new clarinet section leader; taking over Priscilla's place- tried to make sense of the murders.

"Well the night Daniel was murdered, he was really jumpy. I caught him off guard and he jumped, joking that he thought I was a murderer or something. I wonder if he knew something we didn't.." Andrew shared.

"Nah, he wouldn't know a thing." Andy said with a frown.

"I doubt it too, all these things have been so sudden," Priscilla added, supporting her boyfriend.

Matt remained on the outside of the conversation, not finding anything he could really contribute to the discussion.

Adam and Jon, the remaining percussionists ran up to the huddle of section leaders. "Robbie's missing!" they shouted.

"What?!" Matt looked at them with astonishment. "It can't be another one!"

"Robbie? You're right! I haven't seen him either..." Priscilla looked around her.

Andy and Andrew exchanged glances. Andy shrugged, "I haven't seen him either, not since we marched back to the warm up area at the end of the game. Maybe he's in the drum room."

Adam's eyes widened. "No..." he whispered.

"What, why? What's the matter with the drum room?" Andy asked.

"Where have you been, a ton of the murders have been there! Like Rachel and David, and Daniel was found against its door!" John screeched.

The band dorks around the huddled group soon began to hear and comprehend the gist of the conversation. The worry spread out in shock waves and even those who didn't know Robbie that well were panicky- it was the principle of the matter, yet another of their number may be lying dead.

Finally Raully and Paul from the low brass section were brave enough and they opened the door to the drum room. Sure enough, there lay Robbie's body. A drumstick was poked through the back of his neck. The murderer had to have nerves of steel to create such gory scenes!

Blood seeped from the front of his neck where the rounded tip of the stick had poked all the way through from the back. With two open wounds on his neck, both Robbie's back and front were soaked with blood. His mouth had an open, strangled expression on it and his tongue was hanging out.

"Wait he's alive!" Raully pointed to Robbie's arm, which had just moved.

"Ugh..no he's not," Jennifer whispered. "We learned about that in biology today- it's where dead people's bodies still move after death, something like post mortis rigor. Also called the death grip. Their hands and fingers and stuff still curl up when they're dead and like their knee reflexes still work...he's freshly dead."

Spines tingled and flesh crawled amongst those who saw the sights of the murdered bodies. Their nightmares would never fade away, and the way it was going it looked like they wouldn't have to worry about that much longer because the murderer didn't seem to want to rest until everyone was dead.