You’re an innocent five year old little girl. It’s 1985. You’re in your room, walls are pink, stuffed animals are scattered on the floor, and your tucked in your bed, wishing the thunder would stop. You hear your mother and father fighting again. They’ve been fighting ever since you’ve all moved to this new house. The house is big, and you mother and father call it a mansion.
Your mother keeps screaming about how drunk your father is and how he’s a cheater. Well, you know that cheating is bad to do in a board game, and you wonder if your mother and father always play board games…maybe Monopoly. You don’t know what drunk is, but you do know it’s bad by the sound of it.
You’re curious. You get out of your bed and make your way downstairs and follow the shouts your mother is giving your father. You walk with a slow and careful pace, making sure your mother or father won’t know you’re sneaking. You arrive to their bedroom door and you bend down to look under the crack. The side of your face can feel the cool marble floor. You can hear what your mom is saying clearly now:
“I am going to make sure you never cheat on me again!” she screams.
“No, no, put that down. Kristen, please. Kristen, no!” your dad screams, seeming terrified.
Suddenly, you see your dad’s face reach the floor. His green eyes are staring directly at yours…but then you notice he’s not blinking. And unexpectedly, a knife comes plunging down to the side of his head and blood gushes out, quickly making a puddle. Startles, you let out a quick EEK!
Oh no!, you think, Momma is goin’ to hear me, ‘nd she’s gonna know I’m peekin’!
You get up and run quietly upstairs. You jump onto your bed and wrap your whole body and face the window of your room. Your mother bursts the door open and you can see her reflection in the window.
“Victoria…” she says quietly. “Oh…Victoria, I know you’re awake. Your dad left. He’s never coming back. He didn’t love you. He was an asshole…so, bye-bye to him.”
Oh yes he did, you think, he loved me because he wasn’t a meanie like you. He wasn’t hitting me or screaming at me like you.
When your mother leaves, you look out the window and see your dad’s white corvette. Still there. He hasn’t gone…he hasn’t gone. You see a shadowy figure. You’re scared, but you don’t hide under the covers, not this time. You watch. The mysterious figure turns on the corvette, backs it up a little and drives it straight into the garage, crashing the garage door. The figure is walking away, but stops and turns around to blow a kiss to you. That’s when you realize it’s your father.
“What the fuck?! What the fucking fuck just fucking happened?!” you hear your mother’s screams, “Who did this? Who the fuck did this?!”
You run downstairs to see what damage your father did. Once you arrive to the garage, you find the corvette with no scratches, but the garage door completely torn apart.
“Dad…he left. He did this! He…he broke the garage!” you tell your mom and tug on her tang top. She was cleaning clothes on now. A light purple tang top, yellow gloves, a bandana, and exercise shorts.
Suddenly, you feel the horrifying pain of your mother’s hand slapping your cheek. This time, it felt different, though, with the yellow rubber gloves, but it was still painful. You start tearing up.
“I already told you…your father is dead.” Your mother tells you while pointing her index finger at your face.
“You told me he just left!” you object.
“Well to me, he’s dead!” your mother screams.
You run to your room, crying. You touch where she hit you and you notice a weird smell and realize it’s that cleaning thing that your mother uses for whit clothes…something that rhymes with “beach”. You fall down the stairs. As you get up, you realize that the hand that touched your cheek was red. Blood. But you know you weren’t cut…and then your realize it was daddy’s blood.
The Years Later: You’re 8, it’s 1988.
You are trying to draw a horse. You’re sitting down on the marble dinner table and your mom is cooking something for dinner. The doorbell rings. Your mother obviously goes to answer the door. But you then hear your mother scream - one of those screams that aren’t like the ones in movies, but ones that show real terror, one that gives you Goosebumps.
You can’t see the front door, and your curiosity makes you get out of your seat and wall to the front door, as you walk out of the kitchen, a very deep and monstrous voice calls your name. You turn around and see some kind of monster holding your mother with one hand and holding a kitchen knife that is prepared to slice your mother’s neck in the other.
The monster was a dark, swampy green. He has a human-like figure, but no hair, no clothes, and no belly button [, and no private parts]. He seems slimy and had pointy, but small teeth. You notice his eyes are familiar.
“I will kill your mother in front of you, just like she killed me in front of you. I’m sorry, baby…” says the monster.
You are confused and scared, and don’t know what to do or say. You start crying and you try to say something that will make the monster not kill your mother, but you can’t. Suddenly, in a split second, you see the monster draw a thin red line on your mother’s neck with the knife, and almost instantly, blood starts escaping the cut like a waterfall and your mother drops on the floor. You run to your mother, but the monster stops you by putting the knife in front of you.
“Just watch her die. Hide in the closet and tell the truth to the police.” The monster says to you.
The monster is looking to you right in the eye and you realize where those eyes are from. The monster is your dad….and your dad is gone. The monster, or your dad is nowhere to be seen.
Then you see a different monster. This monster was red and had hooves instead of legs. He had a haircut that reminded you of Dracula and had a goatee. He had a long dragon’s tail and pointy fingers. He had yellow eyes and a wicked smile. He reminds you of the devil…he is the devil. Oh no.
“Hey sweetheart. I know your mom and dad are gone…but I can take care of you. Take my hand…”
The devil puts his hand out. You don’t know whether to take his hand or just run. You’re scared, and you get nervous. You suddenly…
Hey you! Yes you! Enjoyed the pre-story? Like the story and add it to you library! And guess what! You decide the ending! Yes you! I plan to make this a novella once I finish the House of Horrors series. Remember, that the girl [you] has to live, but be lost. ;] It can be something simple like “She runs to the closet!” We’ll see who wins the best and most gripping ending!
Remember that House of Horrors is coming out Halloween 2014! Might be a long way, but it's closer than you think!
Think the story needs improvement? Please comment, I love it when people give me constructive criticism, or whatever the hell it’s called. Lol.
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