Xander’s survival instincts went into overdrive. He reached into his pocket, grabbed the handle on the scissors, and tiptoed toward the front room door.
The silence didn’t last long.
As Xander reached the door to the front room, he could see a clear escape to the street. The front door was still ajar.
The sound of Dean’s anguish killed the deafening silence. "Motherfuckers. Motherfuckers."
Xander looked up at the stairs. The sound of a table lamp crashing to the ground flew out of the room, followed by a stomping of feet. "Motherfuckers, I swear to f*****g Christ."
Xander ducked back into the front room, keeping a close eye on the staircase.
Dean stomped down the stairs, screaming blue murder and thumping the banister. "I’ll f*****g… someone give me a blade. Give me a fuckin’ blade,
