What is Right and Just (Rewritten)

PROLOGUE

It was a cold night, the winds of Nividia City, Australia, blowing hard against the windows of Oswald Grey's house. It was a normal family house, no different than the rest on his street. Oswald himself was protected from the winter breeze inside the walls of his home, making dinner for his wife and kids. Tonight's menu: Spaghetti with garlic bread.

Oswald grabbed the plates and silver utensils from inside his cupboards, setting them onto the dinner table before filling glasses with water. He heard the sound of clicking against the floor, and he grumbled in irritation. The rats must be back.

He decided that the spaghetti was finished, and distributed it on the plates. The kids had much less spaghetti compared to their parents.

Oswald walked down the hall to the kids' rooms, opening the door. The child's room was messy with toys and crayons littered everywhere, except for two beds which had been made by Oswald this morning, plushies neatly propped up on the window next to it. There was not a single child that could be seen inside.

"Anna, Katie, time for dinner!" Oswald called out. Strange, he had made sure his daughters would be here a while ago. He closed the door, noticing that the front door had opened just a crack, the outside air seeping in. Oswald could've sworn his door was closed earlier. Thinking this was strange but nothing of note, he closed the door before he then made his way to his room, the one he shared with his darling wife, Dolores.

He heard more clicking, which was starting to piss him off. His eyes scanned the neat room with the queen-sized bed, and his wife couldn't be found either.

How concerning. Dolores wasn't supposed to be walking around, not when she's supposed to be in bed all day.

Oswald looked everywhere around the house until he could only think of one place she and his kids could've gone.

The basement.

He grabbed the keys from his pocket, clicking the lock open to the basement before flicking the light on. Even with the light, the basement was eerie and ominous, like the lightbulbs hanging from the roof were merely eyes of the void staring back at Oswald.

Wooden stairs creaked under Oswald's weight, as he descended down into the dark basement. The basement smelled horrible, like rotting corpses had just been dumped in there.

...That turned out to be exactly the case.

They looked to have died a while ago, about a few days. His wife, Dolores, lying lifelessly on the floor with the bodies of Oswald's two children, Anna and Katie like ragdolls propped up on a shelf.

Despite such a horrendous, gruesome scene, Oswald merely looked confused, only one thing in his mind: "how did they get here?"

Oswald had put them in their beds since they died. Unless they were somehow alive, they shouldn't have managed to get down here.

Whatever, Oswald thought. Right now, he needed to have dinner with his family.

Oswald reached to pick up his wife, when suddenly her slender hand shot up and grabbed his wrist, her long nails digging into his skin.

Oswald gasped in terror, stumbling back and tearing his arm out of his wife's grasp. To his horror and disbelief, the bodies of his family started to move, their glassy eyes staring straight at him. Bones and limbs snapped and popped as their legs struggled to keep their upper bodies up, their movements stiff and uncomfortable.

He scrambled to his feet, running up the stairs while screaming bloody murder. He slammed the basement door shut, locking it up. He backed away as his wife and kids started banging at the door on the other side.