Three Little Piggies

         As Isabel looked at the nothingness of the road, her mind raced catching up with her train of thought as the memory of that day brought shivers up her neck and ice down her spine.

        "You are getting everything, right? " said Mrs Evan to Isabel as she blabbered on and on about the stuff she needed to know to survive the time she would stay taking care of the twins. Isabel was not hearing a word, just kept on nodding and shaking her head occasionally as she was an expert at the job and was totally ignoring every word. 

           Finally after getting everything out of her system, Mrs Evan gave Isabel her card and left the house quickly, already 15 minutes late for her 1 day trip to Florida.

           -----------------------x---------------------------

           ( At 8 o'clock that night )...

         "The children are like angels." , said Isabel to her  friend Nancy,  after making sure both Tristan and Trinny we're fast asleep. 

        "You've always been the lucky one. And I've never seen anyone but myself so prone to a bunch of stupid siren-like monkeys", sighed Nancy huffing exhaustedly.

       "Naaaanncyyyyyyy!!!", the ear piercing voice screamed making Isabel wince through the phone. 
      
       "Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear! " sighed  Nancy "I'll catch up with you later,  bye"

         Before hanging up Isabel heard Nancy groaning in frustration. She chuckled to herself. Now she was all alone. She took the moment to eye the gorgeous wooden two storied house along with its ostentatious furnishing.  As she delicately touched the carvings on the walls, the power circuit blew away with a loud sound. A shrill scream left Isabel's lips, piercing her own ears. She stood in the middle of the room engulfed by the darkness. 

      Slowly her eyes got used to the darkness and she calmed down eventually.  The phone rang suddenly causing her heart to stop beating.  

           "Hellow? Who is this? " Isabel said trying to be loud,  failing mise rably. She waited for the reply which never came back. 
She just heard the sound of someone snarling and growing under breath. It was freaking her out.

                "Sorry wrong number, " she mumbled and as she started to hang up, a melodious voice spoke up,  

                     "Hellow, is this Isabel ?" the voice said softly. 

                       "Yes. Who is this? " she said softly, the fear washing away by the soothing voice. Soon the voice began to sing making her knees weak in fear....

           "Three little piggies
             No worries in their heads
             Avoiding Mr Murderer  
             We're not afraid 
             Mr Murderer came
             And the two are dead
             You're the next
             So be prepared. ....."

         The phone went dead but Isabel was too scared to notice. It was a joke, she decided. A sick pathetic joke. But her inner self was debating with her.  She had to see with her eyes to make sure Tristan and Trinny were safe. 

           Just as she turned,  she sighed in relief.  Tristan stood by the staircase just in his shorts. His hair was twisted into clumps like Medussa's snakes. He probably just woke up from his sleep. 

         Before Isabel realised what happened, Tristan fell down the stairs. Isabel watched in horror add the little kid fell, too shocked to move a muscle. As realization caved in, within a flurry of moments Isabel ran to Tristan. The boy was breathing hard if not breathing at all. He couldn't breathe. Isabel connected her mouth with his for mouth to mouth resuscitation and as she blew, blood gushed out from his chest like the blowholes of whale. New realization filled her with fear and rage; the lungs of the little kid was ruptured using some sort of thin rod. 

              As the body lay numb in her hands, Isabel decided to make sure Trinny was ok. She wanted to run, but the legs felt like jelly weighing a thousand tonnes. Painstakingly slow,  she made her way to the room. A small smile settled on her lips as she saw the tiny figure wrapped up in her quilt. Isabel quietly went to her and shook Trinny. In the process the child turned, scaring the living daylight out of Isabel. Empty eye sockets and withthin wires around her neck, Trinny lay numb; dead. 
   
       Isabel was horrified beyond anything she had ever had. How could a person be so heartless to kill a pair of six year olds. She had no idea of what to do. Her sense had abandoned her in the time of need. She felt numb. Her limbs were jelly. Her mind blank. 

      Having no other option, she decided to call Mrs Evans. The phone rang twice before being answered. 

      "Mrs Evans. ..I'm Isabel. .. the. .the chi... children are dead... no they are killed and. ..and he ....he is coming after me. ... " Isabel stuttered in a single breath her breathing ragged. But having got no response made her realize what a blunder she did. As she opened her mouth to apologise, she heard the same snarling and growling under breath. 

     Isabel threw her phone away from her and decided to go to the forsaken drawing room.  There, peeking through the stairs Isabel could make out the silhouette of a manly figure holding a circular object. To her horror by the shaking of the small hair Isabel realised what it was. 

     "Come down Isabel..."came the voice which bought ice down her spine. "I know you're there. Don't make me wait. ..or worse make me come up. ..there is no escaping"

         Seeming to run out of options, Isabel came out into and down the stairs to come face to face with the devil himself. 

        He was no more than his in late twenties or early thirties. He was physically fit and muscular and had an average face. But not a normal head,  she thought frightened. 

      "You know what?  I seem to like you, so I'll be more merciful and give you an easy death." He concluded. 

       "Why? Why are you doing this? You've already destroyed a family. Why do u want to kill me too??" She tried to reason with him.

       He smirked darkly. "It's my obsession. I love the feel of blood in my fingers. My ancestors were assassins and it ran down the generation. Enough chit chat. .."he said taking out a revolver and pointing at her forehead. The wind outside blowing wildly promising a start of a stormy night. 
      
      He was a few feet away from her. As he pulled the trigger, the clap of thunder distracted him and made him lose his aim and the bullet hit her in the shoulder. 

      This was a do or die situation for Isabel. As the murderer raised the gun to fire again, her instinct kicked in from all the self defence lessons she had taken and with a side thrust kick she knocked the gun out of his hand and made a quick turn to exit the house. But he was faster. He turned her and started punching her shoulder, which caused excruciating pain. She tried to stop him but it was of no use. The shower of blows never seemed to decease. She felt darkness caving in and she just gave up; her legs gave way and she fell, taking the murderer along with her and collapsing on a glass table. 

     She waited for death or in other word the murderer to finish her off... but it never happened. Turning she saw the murderer looking up at the ceiling, his eyes emotionless, his mouth open, and as her eyes travelled down,  it finally rested on the shard of glass, like a transparent dagger, protruded from his chest. 

......................x.......................x.......................

The incident took place a little over a year ago,  yet the snarl of the man and the dead figures of the little children haunt her like no other.

......

THE END

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