Hang on to Your Butts

Six more sentences today. I actually know where I'm going with this story, finally, and it's going to get really fucking weird. I know WHAT I'm going to do but I'm not sure how I'm going to do it. I suppose that's the fun of writing, when you figure that out. But for me, right now, it's a bit daunting. I might write more tonight, but I'll probably leave it until tomorrow, just on the off-chance I find myself at a loss for words again. When I get it written, should anyone actually read it and wonder where I got the idea... Rest assured I will point the blame squarely on the shoulders of Bentley Little. It was the moment that I decided to try to think like BL that I came up with what will help me finish out the story. I'm both really excited and really, really scared that I will actually finish a story...a story that I now definitely have interest in...which is a first. Usually, I just try to write what I think others will like. Not this time and most likely not anymore. It's freeing, thinking the way BL does. I recommend it highly to everyone. Anyway, here's the story with the 6 most recent sentences:

He walked to the door not realizing he was about to die. He should have known, though. The door was locked. The janitor always unlocked the door in the morning for him.15 years and the janitor never forgot. What was going on? He tried the door knob again. Locked. He heard a scuffling sound and then a muffled bark of laughter and what sounded like a yelp of pain. Two kids, perhaps, groping each other. He smiled at the thought, remembering what it was like to be a teen again. Another giggle, this time much louder, sounding very sinister. He reached into his pocket for his keys. He was unnerved by the laughter, but his composure remained. It was just some randy students, he told himself again. He had been through worse many times before. He heard soft metallic clicks within as he brought the room key to the keyhole. He froze. That sound was familiar to him. As familiar as own family. Bullets being loaded into a magazine. Not here, not now! This was NOT happening! Not at my school. If he had known what was really going on on the other side of the door, he would have run right then and forgotten all that he had heard. But he was a scientist at heart and by profession. Curiosity came with the territory, and fear never stopped him from investigating.