happy families :: m.g.c.

0.8

the screens of seventeen teenager's phones fizzled to black before showing an abandoned room littered with dust and cobwebs.

"good evening." a voice said before someone stepped into the frame. the seventeen adolescents all gasped at once for they knew the man before their eyes.

"my name is michael gordon clifford. but you know me as mike-ro-wave. now, i suggest you move to your room and close the door and open your window. when i'm done, you'll need fresh air. that is, if you're even still breathing.

"so, i have contacted you today because there is one thing that you all have in common. each and every one of you is a child of one of the authorities that locked me up. but as you well know, i escaped quite easily.

"some of you may know each other. to the seventeen of you that i have targeted i recommend you watch your back. you'll never know when i could strike. so, i'm just going to say those of you who will be dead by the end of this week in the order of oldest to youngest.

"eve, henry, amelia, gabriella, jacob, william, evan, grace, maya, payton, jack, carter, alice, andrew, victoria, jayden, and owen." michael paused to smirk.

"feeling queasy yet?" michael laughed.

"there is an order to which i will do my killing. but i think now is time for some facts. as already stated, i am michael. i'm nineteen. i don't need you to tell me your name and age. i already know. the youngest is owen at only thirteen, then jayden and victoria at fourteen. the twins alice and andrew are fifteen, then the sixteen year olds are carter, grace, jack, maya and payton. william, jacob, gabriella and evan are seventeen, amelia is eighteen, then the lovebirds eve and henry are nineteen. scared yet?"

michael shifted in his chair. "my parents are karen and daryl clifford. they're dead. i had three older siblings. they're dead too. i was born on the twentieth of november, nineteen ninety five. my method of killing is making the victims kill themselves but i also don't mind dipping my hands in their blood either. with you, i'll kill you with my bare hands. i'll chop off your fingers and toes first, then i'll rip out your vocal cords, then break both your legs, and then, only then, will i put you out of your misery and slit your throat, carving my signature into your skin while the blood is still spewing from your neck."

michael looked down at his non-existent watch. "oops, looks like we're out of time. but just one more thing." he leaned in closer to the camera lense. he pulled a mask from off-camera and placed the baby doll-looking mask over his pale face, the black material covering his entire head.

"the more you know about me, the closer i am."

static fizzled out of the speakers as michael's face disappeared from their screen. suddenly, they are all looking at each other, seventeen faces filling up the phone screen.

"what are we supposed to do?" grace asked the others.

"should we tell our parents?" owen suggested.

but the others didn't get a chance because alice's scream echoed throughout their rooms. a baby doll mask popped up in front of where alice had dropped her ipad.

"one, two. i'm coming for you."

seventeen teenagers died that night. they're parents tried all they could to open the door to help their screaming and dying children, but they were already too late to save them. they were always too late.