Laughs echoed throughout the dark, large room. The laughs weren't happy; they were the manic laughs of a person, mentally insane. They were the laughs of someone who had secrets behind the walls of this house. They were the laughs of someone who was alone, yet had people surrounding him. They were the laughs of someone who would never let his friends go. They were the laughs of someone who held his friends close.

The laughs weren't heard by any of his friends. His friends heard nothing, saw nothing, felt nothing. His friends were almost nothing themselves. But he loved his friends and hugged and kissed them. He loved the feel of their cold skin on his. He knew that they could cure his chronic loneliness. He laughed as he took his favorite friend, whom he only knew as This One, and laughed as he slipped off her clothes.

He was alone in this house, yet surrounded by his friends.

His friends stared into nothing.

Dripping in blood.

And missing their limbs.