He waited, his breathe held in terror. There it was again. That sound. scratch. scratch. He heard it every night when all the lights were out. When his parents were asleep. Right now it was quiet, the door was shut, locked up tight. As er usual his parents had thrown him into his room and locked it, telling him to be a good boy and sleep. They had begun locking it after the fith time he had come to them crying about it.
No one believed him. It watched him at night. Calling to him. Beckoning him. Lurring him. He was so scared but mommy and daddy would only yell at him. He began praying, to anyone, that tonight would be different. That he wasn't being watched. That the voice wouldn't come.
Scratch. Scratch. No. It was just the wind. A branch touching his window. Tears formed in his eyes as he heard the sound again, louder, closer. He bit back a cry as he heard the deep gravely voice speak to him.
Tonight. Tonight it will happen. Come to me... come to me.... He shook his head and pulled his blankets over his head. Please no.... no, no, no, no...
Look at what they have done. Nothing..
"no!" he yelled, squeezing his eyes closed. But unable to help himself images flashed through his mind. His mom screaming at him. His father... he could feel the impact of his fathers fist into his side.
They hurt you.... "They love me." he said weakly. His parents were all he had. They loved him... he knew they did. They had to..
I love you. It said that every night... and tonight it sounded even more sincere, but he feared it was a trap. Against his instincts the boy uncovered his head and saw...saw them. those eyes.
Bright red, glowing in the darkness. Those eyes that filled him with longing... to be loved. To not be beaten. To be told he was a good boy.
Sweet boy... I will not beat you. I will not Scream at you. Just come to me, the voice purred. The eyes seemed to glow even brighter. He wanted to go. He wanted to get out of this locked room... away from his parents, away from this thing. But the voice was soothing and alluring.
He curled up in a ball reflexively when he felt a weight on his bed. eyes shut tight again, he shivered. So cold. the room was so cold. Why didn't mommy give him another blanket? He winced when he wrapped his arms around himself, the newest bruise still tender. Daddy's love.
Daddy's love, eh? Why not show them your love? This was a new idea. The boy looked up and to his surprise, he saw it. It was a child, his age. Another little boy, with lips currled into a a dark smile. His eyes still glowed a blood red, standing out against the darkness and his white skin. The boy stretched his hand out, while beckoning with his other.
It isn't so scary he thought to himself. Love? Show mommy and daddy love? He wanted to run away, this felt wrong.
Come with me... there will be no more daddy beating you. No more momy yelling at you. They will both be happy, smiling at you. Just come to me... The creature purred. Smiling? Happy? Mommy and Daddy?
He shook off his unease, he had to go with this new boy. To make mommy and Daddy happy. He gulped and book the boy's hand. It was gold and clammy.... like the hand of the dead... and just like that ever memory of mommy and daddy's love came flooding his mind. The beatings. the boiling water being poured on his hands. The broken arm and fingers. The screaming. The blaming. Mommy and Daddy's "love".
Lets go show them your love.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The police were shocked when they arrived at the scene. A young boy, around the age of five was found, covered in blood. He was found sitting in a chair with his teddy bear, smiling and looking at his parents while they laid in his bed. Their faces were mutilated, gashes cut into them, making it appear that they were smiling. Huge, bloody smiles. And the boy just kept repeating, "Mommy and Daddy are smiling. I showed them my love and they are smiling."
No comments:
Post a Comment