My father pulled up in front of the mansion. It looked the same as before. Most of my things were still inside, but I wasn't happy to be back for them. Not like this.
My father got out first, slamming his door. He opened up the door for me, still smiling. "Welcome home, dear," he said.
I felt the strings moving through my lips and in a second they were gone. I could talk again. However, I didn't have anything to say. I followed him into the mansion. The place was clean and not a speck of filth anywhere. The inside was the same as we left it, except a few extra paintings.
The first painting that caught my eye was that of a woman sitting in front of a train track. Her left leg was broken and a small fragment of bone stuck out. The bone was painted so well that it looked real. Only, when I felt it that part of the painting fell off and hit the floor. I looked down at it then picked it up. As soon as I felt the hardness of it, I dropped it. It was a real bone.
I turned away from it but bumped into my father who had been standing behind me the whole time. He just stood there, smiling and admiring his artwork as if it was indeed a pure masterpiece. "Would you like to see the rest of my work?" He asked me, still admiring his painting.
What else did I have to lose? Why not look? The more I knew about him and what his plans were, the better. We walked up to the fourth floor where some sculptures stood next to a door. It was his art room. The place he spent most of my childhood. I watched as he used a key to open up the door.
When I walked inside of the room my mouth dropped. Pictures of women, kids, men, and families were painted in the worst ways. Many of them were distorted. There were some pictures that weren't disturbing but just...creepy. For example, there was a picture of a clown holding a woman's severed foot. A man in a tuxedo being held against his will by his own shadow. Hundreds of pictures on the wall that I could not fathom.
"What is this?" I asked.
"Art!" He looked at me. "Beautiful art."
"It smells disgusting in here," I said. I almost wanted to vomit every time I turned my head. My father walked out of the room and locked his door behind himself. "Is there a way out for you, dad?"
"Why would I want to leave?" He looked at me like he was disgusted with me.
"Because you're murdering people-"
"Ugh, we discussed this!" He raised his voice. "I'm exactly who I want to be. No one can change my mind."
His face was red as he towered over me. However, I was scared. Even though he was angry at me, his last words were a little too deep. It wasn't from his voice either. In that moment, as he towered me, I saw something shadow his body. It moved as he moved, then quickly disappeared.
"You're not my dad," I said and I was pretty sure that whatever he had got himself into, that source was controlling him. "What can I do to help you!"
He smacked me in the face, making me fall to the ground. I held my stinging face for some time until the sharp pain went away. I faced him while holding back tears.
"Now," he straightened up himself. "Go shower and prepare for dinner. We have special guest tonight."
***
I did what he told me to do. I got all washed up and dressed in a yellow shirt with some gray sweat pants. I probably looked tacky, but how fancy did I have to dress just to eat? Guest or no guest, whoever it was coming couldn't have been good company.
I walked downstairs and headed for the dining room. The light inside was bright and the room looked overly decorated with all the silver and gold utensils and pots on the table. My dad wasn't there, but there were five plates of food.
There was a knock at the door. "I got it" My dad yelled, running down the stairs.
I sat on a chair, not fully prepared for our guest. I could tell this wasn't going to be good because I heard someone screaming. I recognized that voice very well. Getting up out of my seat, I ran towards the screaming.
"Aunt, Denise!" I gasped. She was tied up and gagged. Her own kids were standing behind her with their masks on. Abby then walked inside carrying a small plastic pumpkin that kids use for trick or treating.
"Now kids," Abby said. "This is all part of the Halloween party. Mommy has to be tied up so the hero can save her. And what does the hero have?"
"Candy, surprises, and anything we want and desire!" All three of them yelled.
My eyes widened as I looked at them. There was no way my father and Abby thought about sacrificing the children and their mother. "Aunt Denise," I said. Her name accidentally slipped out of my mouth and I don't know what else to say.
My father walked up behind me and placed two hands on my shoulder. "If you won't join us, maybe your family will." He whispered.
Before I could reply, my lips are sewed shut again.
"Dinner time!" My father shouted.
The kids run inside of the diner room. Abby pushes me inside while my father carries my aunt to an empty seat at the table. She's thrown into the chair by my father, but her body quickly straightens up and she's sitting perfectly still, not saying a word.
"This is the part where the hero saves the day!" My father smiled. "Abby! Get out the play toys!"
Abby pulled out three silver handguns out of her plastic pumpkin and handed each one to the kids. They weren't toy guns.
"Don't shoot the water guns yet, kids. First, we have to see if mommy wants to be saved." A sinister smile crossed Abby's face when she looked at me from the corner of her eye. "The kids are already saved, right?"
"Yes!" The kids yelled.
"And how are they saved?" Mr. Harmon asked with a fake confused look on his face.
"Because our lives are protected forever!"
"Right!" Abby said, then faced their mother. "Now, let's pretend mommy is the bad guy. Point the water guns at her."
The kids began laughing as they raised the guns at their own mother. If only they knew. If only I had warned April better. This was going to have a really bad ending if something didn't give. In that moment, I wished my aunt would say that she wants to join them just so she could live.
"If she doesn't join us, we're going to shoot her with the water guns." Mr. Harmon says. "Because she's the bad guy and if we give her a chance to join us, we're heroes. It's her choice."
"So," Abby said, smiling at my aunt. "Will you join us? All you have to do is say you sacrifice your soul to the book."
My father removed the gag off of my aunt's mouth. She started crying. "Let them go!" She yelled.
The kids giggled. "That's not the right answer, mommy." Zach smiled, aiming at her face.
"It's real guns, put them down!" Denise yelled.
"Oh my, it doesn't look like mommy wants to join us," my father said. "Let's give her one more chance. If she doesn't join us, then we have to shoot the bad guy."
"Let me go and leave my children alone!" She yelled. Denise obviously was not understanding what was happening. She could have saved herself if she had just played along.
"And the bad guy loses. Fire away!" Abby said.
One, two, three, four, five, six loud gun shots went off. I turned my face away, shaking as they went off. I then heard the guns drop and the three children gasp. As much as I wished this to be a dream, it wasn't...
YOU ARE READING
Violet
HorrorA loving father desperate for power. A mother trying to save her family. A girl named Violet trying to find out what went wrong in her life and why her father is desperate for her to sacrifice her soul to an evil book.