For the first time since they started all this, the middle sibling is actually scared. This whole time she didn’t believe anything would come of this and that they were just kids being kids. While I’m not sure killing cats and slicing and dicing your palms is kids’ stuff, I get the sentiment. Nothing could convince me that shit was real, apart from seeing it with my own two eyes.
As I finish the page, I realize my blood is seeping a little bit heavier than I’d like it to be, so I stop the recording to search for a bandaid.No wonder it hurt so much; it’s bleeding like crazy.I stick my finger in my mouth in some primal instinct to stop the bleeding.
Then I hear it.
Someone is in my house.
“Charlie?”Maybe he came by to surprise me and grab the last of his things.“Isla?” No answer. Both of them would have texted before coming over, so I check my phone.
Nothing.
Okay, think, Bel. Maybe they think no one is home. I shouldn’t make myself known quite yet.First things first, I dial 911.
“Dispatch, what’s the address of your emergency?” I rattle off my address, trying to keep my voice low but clear. “And what is the emergency, ma’am?”
“Someone’s in my house. I live alone, I don’t have any pets. I was working and there was this terrible ruckus downstairs like someone broke through a fucking wall or something and now they’re rummaging around down there. Please, please send help.”
“I have officers en route, they’re about ten minutes out. Would you like me to stay on the phone with you until they arrive?”How is she so fucking calm right now??? She’s about to listen to me get murdered!
“Y-yes please,” I stutter.
“Do you have anything to defend yourself with?” she asks.
I think for a minute, responding, “I have a little pistol thing my dad got me when I moved out on my own.”
“Can you get to it without drawing attention to yourself?”
“Uhhh yes I think so.” As quietly as I can, I sneak across the hall into my bedroom, open the drawer of my bedside table and grab the little thing that I swore up and down I would never touch. “Okay I got it. How do I use it?”
“Check that the safety is off. Check for ammo. Point and shoot.”What the fuck is a safety? Oh, right there.
There’s another pounding sound coming from downstairs, and for just a split second, all the lights go out. I drop my phone and cover my mouth to keep from screaming.
Once I manage to calm down, I decide using both hands on the gun makes more sense than holding a phone to my ear. What’s she gonna do? Tell me to not die?
Gathering all the courage I have, I sneak down the stairs, deciding that going after them on my own terms is better than waiting for them to find me.
I move slowly and silently, or at least I try. The lights downstairs are all off, so it’s creepy as fuck. But if I can’t see, neither can they, and I know my home better than they do.
I think I hear heavy breathing, but the pounding and movement have stopped. I hold my breath for fear of being too loud. Whoever it is doesn’t seem to know they’ve been made yet, so at least I have a small advantage.
There!A slight movement in the corner gives me somewhere to point my gun, but it doesn’t look like there’s a person there. It just looks like layers of shadows dancing in the moonlight coming from the half-open blinds. Two white reflectors show from far above my head, and I wonder if the person is wearing a helmet.Who wears headgear to a home invasion?The only thing I can figure is that maybe they’re wearing night vision goggles.
The figure moves again, and without even thinking, I pull the trigger. I hear the worst, wet thunk and watch what looks like someone half falling over. My whole body begs me to bend over and puke all over the floor. My only saving grace is the elation I feel over actually hitting my intruder.
Keeping my voice even to hide my fear, I shout,“Ha! Got you, fucker. The police are on their way. So you better jus-just stay down until they get here or Iwillshoot you again.” Then I flip the light switch, planning to get a better lock on them while they’re temporarily blinded by the goggles. But instead, what I see has me cursing and dropping my only defense to the floor, “Oh, Jesus Christ.”
What the fuck is that thing?!
Sweet Rutting Freedom
Caspian
What foolish mortal dared to unleash me?
The first coherent thought I’ve had in what feels like eons.How long have I been trapped within the Prison Realm?
Something smells delicious. It’s faint but unmistakable, the sweetest blood of a pure soul spilled, and in the name of what? Avarice? Vengeance? Pride? These mortals are always so willing to sacrifice another but never to pay the price themselves.
