Regrets of the Damned: Part Two

Part two of... Three so far, by the end a lot. I might not finish the story... Continue or scrap it?

Shamus sat in his room, tears clouding his eyes and streaking his face. He was alone now. His mother had been killed during a raid on the fort last summer (The fort, not unusually, doubles as a trading post during the summer months.). He stood up, sliding his bed into the opposite corner of the room and lifting the wool blanket, uncovering a hatch on the floor. He lifted it, sliding down into the darkness of the tunnel. He felt his way along, never losing his path for he followed a path that he had previously gouged into the wall of earth. Eventually, the earth became wood, and he bumped his head on another hatch. He stood, swinging the hatch open and staring into the candle-lit room. The light bothered his eyes, but he ignored it. He looked around the room, searching, until his eyes rested on the far corner of the room. She stood, walking toward him and embracing him as he stood up, out of the tunnel. She moved to kiss him, but he turned away. Frowning, she looked up at him and asked, "What's wrong?"
"...I' was my father today..."
She gasped, hugging him tightly. "I'm so sorry..."
"...I'm going to show them the tunnels. They think tha's how the killer's ge'ing around. They're going to seal them shu'."
"You can't! If they do, we'll never be together like this again!"
"I 'ave to... The Cap'ain was righ'. I's my faul' those men died... I's... I's my faul' my father was killed."
"No!"
"Yes! If I had showed them the tunnels earlier, then the murderer migh' 'ave been caugh'."
"But... What about us... You know my father won't let you see me."
"I know. Bu' I can't le'  another person die because I can't le' go of you. I'm sorry."
He closed his eyes for a moment, before stepping away from her and climbing back into the tunnel, back to his room. Her sobs echoed behind him like the screams of a thousand shattered souls. He fell asleep late that night, dreaming of what might have been.

  He awoke the next morning to screams of panic,of men shouting and running, of utter chaos. Stepping outside, his first reaction was to gag. The air was rancid, smelling of death. He looked down the street and saw the cause of the commotion. Two severed heads lay on the steps of his now ex-girlfriend's home. Her parents. Their arms and legs, like his father's and all those before were tied in the shape of a cross and sitting near the bodies. The smell came from the gruesome decorations the maniac had put up. The innards of both victims were strewn along the rooftops, just hanging over the edge of visibility. They were still steaming from their owner's body heat. Shamus dropped to his knees, looking at the carnage, the chaos, thinking to himself, "What kind of... Of monster could do... Anything, like this?!" Wallace walked up to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. We'll catch this guy... She said you were the last person she saw before this. Were you using the tunnels again?" Shamus just nodded, unable to form coherent words. The last thing he saw before everything went black were the two bodies in the street, being wrapped tightly in sheets.