He saw the campfire and guessed who would be there. An open flame usually brought lustful teens together. He would kill them all. They deserved it living their perverted ways. He walked towards the flame, clown mask on and machete out.
Earl “Reaper” Toomey looked amoung his fellow bikers of the ‘Satan’s Sons’ gang. They were getting restless just drinking out in the woods. They needed to beat someone’s ass, just for the Hell of it.
As a clown-faced man jumped out Reaper and his eight buddies stood up. They cracked their knuckles and grinned in delight.
Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo Credit: Anshu Bhonjnagarwala