(Little A/N;

I mentioned the name of some places and said they was in Florida. Just know that I'm not talking about real places, just one I made up, K?)

The night was uneventful-- turns out the mass murderer had moved countries. At least they were now the most powerful in the U.S, right?

George was still in alot better of a mood, as they had taken the truck to drive to Dave's old address. The streets were empty, nothing showing, and the night air was cool and still. It was so peaceful. Clay was driving the truck, while George and Sapnap sat in the bed of the truck.

They didnt end their killstreak, though. They were riding along a trail for some time, and ended up coming along two girls. As they had been creeping up in the truck, Nick pulled out the curved knife, jumping down and stabbing the girls in the gut. He did their mark, and cut the girls mouths as if they were smiling alot more; like Jeff the Killer. He had jumped back onto the truck rather quickly, and whisper-yelled "Onwards!".

Clay must've noticed the outside was calming George down, so he drove laps around the neighborhood. Nick kept looking around cautiously for anyone peeking out, or he was trying to hide the fact that he was still mad that George called him a furry.

As they were driving home, police sirens grew louder. George glanced around quickly, before letting out a sigh as he realized the police were probably investigating the two girls. They drove home, and luckily the police were no where near, as George hoped.

Sapnap and Clay headed off to their respective rooms doing who knows what, while George sat on the couch. He lazily picked the remote up, clicking the buttons until the TV displayed the news. What he found pleasantly surprised him, as it was very quick that they were addressing the scene.

"—Team has struck yet again, as they do every night. This time the victims were Hanna Peyton, former friend of Dave Blade, and Sam Moore."

George furrowed his brow. Why didnt they mention any friends of Jessica's? Was she lonely?

"This time the murder took place in Pine City, Florida. An elderly couple were sitting on their porch when one of the girls screamed, startling them." The news reporter paused, taking a moment to read her lines behind the camera.

"The police have figured out that the Nightmares live in Flint Cross, Florida. They have yet to locate exactly where they stay, but when they do, they will be punished. That concludes our stories on the murders-- up next; the weather forecast with Vincen—"

George switched the TV off. He got up with a groan, fear welling up deep in his chest. "Hey, Nick? Clay?" He called. Nick replied with a "YEAH?", while Clay opened his door. "What's up?"

Nick opened his door a little bit.

George took a deep breath. "Well... The police know that we live in the area..." He watched as his friends expressions changed. Clay was still mostly blank though, muttering a "This house cost a damn fortune."

"Is there anything else?" Nick asked, his expression has completely changed form his normal one. This one displayed fear, as well as guilt. Probably because he's the one that killed the girls, George thought.

"Nothing else was covered other than they know we're in the area. Also," George added, a small grin appearing on his face. "Apperently one of the girls was Dave's friend, she was probably associated with his murders for awhile." Clay and Nick both couldnt help but smile, some part of their personality showing again.

"Score... One point for the Nightmares, zero for Technonoob!" Nick put his fists into the air as if he was at a wrestling match and won. Clay chuckled, while George let out a "pfft," of a laugh.

Clay and Nick began to back into their rooms, George as well, when an all too familiar sound struck their ears, repeating, and causing them to freeze. The sound got closer by the second, and the team were the only ones on the street. All the other houses were up for sale because they would often scream in victory.

But this sound was scary to them. It reminded them that murdering wasnt easy. it reminded them that there was always someone looking for them. It reminded them that they were constantly in danger for as long as they killed.

Police sirens.