Peterson
16 Moyer Avenue
Silent Falls
They were good children, or so
the world thought. Anyone would. Few families had three children-twin boys aged
ten, and a girl aged seven-and managed to keep a quiet, but still happy
household. None of them were alike in any way; Daniel spent his days playing
football while Jason played computer games and Allyssa practised ballet. Their
parents were happy too, and friends to everyone. Both had respectable, well
paid jobs-Mr Peterson was a successful lawyer, and Mrs Peterson was a well
educated psychologist. Maybe they could have explained it all to whoever had to
hear it. Certainly the children couldn't, despite being there, being responsible.
Only they knew what happened that night.
It appeared to be a normal Saturday. The children had
spent the day doing what they enjoyed and now it was almost bedtime, for
Allyssa anyway, being the youngest. As they did on the last Saturday of every
month, their parents had gone out for the evening, leaving them with their
responsible baby sitter-an intelligent seventeen year old-Sindy.
On being told, Allyssa obediently went to brush her
teeth, leaving her brothers alone in the playroom with their board game. She
returned only to say goodnight before going to her pink bedroom-filled with
porcelain fairies and falling asleep only minutes after her head touched the
soft pink pillow.
The boys extra hour in the playroom passed quickly, and
soon enough they were in their room, surrounded by posters of sports stars and
shelves of computer games. Daniel climbing to the top bunk bed, Jason already
in the bottom one, chatting quietly until they too, were sound asleep.
Sindy was alone now. She turned the TV channel to a
romantic comedy meant for her age group, and lifted the phone, dialling her
friends number for girly gossip.
Halfway through the
conversation, the house became dark and silent. Sindy's voice drifted away as
she realised her friends' was no longer there. She placed the phone down,
disappointed that to had to happen when she was just moments away from knowing
vital information.
There was a noise upstairs, some sort of banging like a
toy being dropped in the playroom. But the children were asleep and never, in
the two years she had been doing this, had they woke up during the night. She
got up from the couch ready to go upstairs, when the phone rang.
Her friend surely, to tell her what she had to know. She
paused, unsure whether to ignore it and go upstairs, or answer it. It would
only take a second. Quickly, she
lifted the phone and sat on the couch, eager to find out. It wasn't her
friend's voice she heard though, it was something very different. Familiar,
although she wasn't sure where from.
A strange, scratching sound, like fingernails on a
blackboard, but more ear splitting. It was gradually drowned out by a voice, an
icy, cold voice. Sindy could almost felt the cold breath on her face as it
whispered threats she thought she'd never have to hear. Sickening, depraved
threats no creature deserved. So grotesque they seemed impossible. The house
was silent again as the voice vanished so quickly it left her wondering whether
she'd really heard it.
There was more noise upstairs, like quick footsteps. Dismissing
what she'd heard, Sindy got up and ran upstairs to the playroom, which was
empty. She glanced into Allyssa's room, seeing her as she'd left her, tucked up
in bed fast asleep. Expecting to see
them awake, she went into the boy's room. However, they too, were asleep.
Mutely, she scolded herself for imagining noises,
thinking that these children were up. Still, she looked again in the playroom.
No one there. All the toys, books and games were in their place, as far as she
could see in the dark room. Quietly, she closed the door behind her and went
back downstairs.
She'd barely mocked her imagination for this when she
heard that sound again, only this time it wasn't on the phone. It was at the
window. Swiftly, she pulled the heavy curtains back. Was that a ghostly hand
leaving the window, with long, bony fingers and rotting yellow nails? Stupid.
She let go of the curtains, letting them fall back into place.
Footsteps. This time she knew she'd heard them. More than
one person, probably the boys. Determined
to catch them, she rushed upstairs, stopping at the playroom. The door
was open. They were in there. Hiding. This wasn't like them. As she entered,
she thought she saw the cupboard door finish closing. Now, she'd catch them for
sure.
On light feet, she made her way across the room,
listening for whispers. She placed her hand on the shining handle of the
cupboard door, but froze when she heard a voice from behind her, saying her
name.
She turned around. There they were, all three of them,
standing in the doorway, watching her.
They were different. Every detail of their appearance was
still the same as far as she could see. Something about them was different,
very different. Something that stopped Sindy marching towards them and ordering
them back to bed, as she'd intended to do. She felt so powerless, standing
there alone in the dark room as they came forward, so helpless.
They were right beside her now, not speaking, not
laughing, not crying. The only sound was Sindy's pounding heart as she closed
her eyes, trying to trap the frightened tears that had already began rushing
down her cheeks. She felt a sharp pain in her head as something heavy hit her,
putting her quickly into unconsciousness.
When her eyes opened, she saw it everywhere. Horrible.
Too horrible for nightmares. As her eyes raced round the candle lit room, the
threats she'd heard echoed in her mind, making her realise they were very true.
And possible.
She felt her warm blood, flowing from her wrists and
ankles where she'd been nailed to the floor with huge rusty nails, causing her
entire body to throb.
She lifted her head to look forward. Vaguely, she could
make out the shapes of the children, huddled together on the floor in a dark
corner at the far end of the room, whispering, giggling. Together, they stood
up and came towards her as one, so slowly, so swiftly they appeared to float.
Allyssa giggled delightfully as she walked towards Sindy,
swinging a large fish hook in her hand.
Finally, Mr and Mrs Peterson managed to get a taxi. Mrs
Peterson sighed as she phoned the house again, getting no answer. Sindy was
probably asleep, she'd decided. After all, it was almost two o'clock and they'd
said they'd be home by midnight.
They arrived home to find the house in darkness. Rare,
but it was also rare for them to return home this late. Mr Peterson eased open
the front door so as to make no noise that would wake Sindy and the children.
However, Allyssa came racing downstairs into his arms,
followed by Daniel and Jason who were clearly wide awake.
Before he could ask why they weren't asleep, he noticed
the red smeared around Allyssa's mouth. As she stepped back from him, he saw it
was over her white pyjamas too. What was it? Food? Paint? It couldn't be blood.
Could it?
Mrs Peterson opened her mouth to ask Daniel and Jason,
then saw the red around their mouths too. Not half as much, in fact very
little, but it was there, even a small stain on Jason's t-shirt. She asked
where Sindy was. The attic.
Why? All that was there was old furniture and toys. They
hadn't gone up there in years. They followed the children up, not asking
questions, sensing something was very wrong.
And it was. Never in their lives would they have been
able to imagine such a horrific sight. Exactly what Sindy had saw, only worse
for they saw her too. Nailed to the floor in a puddle of her own blood, that
still flowed from her wrists. ankles, and a deep hole in her stomach with a
hook stuck in it. Chunks of flesh appeared to have been bitten from various places
in her body. Around the grotesque room, weapons lay. Weapons so big it seemed
impossible for a child to know how to use them.
The children knew though. They used them all to kill
their parents that night.
The police turned up at three in the morning after a
neighbour called saying they heard screams coming from the attic. They went
upstairs to find the three corpses swimming in blood in the attic, which was
full of dead animals, nailed to the floor, the walls the ceiling. Most of them
having bled to death with chunks of flesh missing from their bodies. Some were
mangled in hideous, indescribable ways, making it hard to tell which kind of
animal they were.
The three children were found in their playroom,
peacefully doing a jigsaw puzzle, chatting , merrily. The older two had a few
blood stains on their tops, and some on their lips, whereas the youngest was
covered in blood from head to toe. Even her hair had blood in it.
When asked, they calmly admitted having murdered their
parents and babysitter, and gave details of how they did it, but didn't appear
to know why.
It has been exactly a year since that night, and still no
one understands. The children were taken to a psychiatric hospital, although
they don't appear to be disturbed in any way. Anyone who didn't know them would
look at them and see happy, well behaved children. That's the scariest part.
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