Sleep Noise

Entrance

Evander breathed through the house like smoke in a lung, leaving behind no trace of his presence. The place was clean, spotless almost. It was midnight and the family had been asleep for a solid two hours before he had made his way to the front door.

He crept across the linoleum floor, thin leather boots padding softly. There were picture frames to his right in front of the kitchen entrance. The left led to the living room. He admired the glass doors in front of him a moment before moving on to the rest of the house.

It's sad, really... he mused as he touched the smooth surface of the couch frame, They can't hear death as it poaches them in their own home.

He slowly inched up the stairs, not touching the handrail. He stopped a moment at the top to admire a golden framed mirror placed on the wall. He followed it with his eyes before moving to the center.

His dark hair fell lightly and blended with his surroundings but his face stood out, illuminated by the moonlight from the lower level. With chiseled features missing cliché masculine dimensions, he looked androgynous compared to rugged, more stout men. He lifted his chin and ran his hand along his jaw line and then his cheek bones. Stubble pricked his fingers. Not a line creased his face. He smiled widely, watching his cheeks split with the enthusiasm. He walked on, satisfied with his personal assessment.

The hallway led to the left. Two doors on the right side and one to the left, with a pink paper flower taped to it. Elsa...

His heart raced as he approached the door, imagining a pretty blonde head popping out from beneath the covers with nothing attached. The hair on the back of his neck and arms stood at attention as he reached for the door knob. Click.

She didn't move as he entered the room but she made a soft noise as if he had pelted her with the doll he almost tripped over. He considered it.

“No,” she said, “Don't, please.” She was almost inaudible. Her body began to shake as he rounded the bed. These must be the nightmares the mother was speaking of in her journal. Little eyelashes like dark feathery fans quivered. Her mouth began to form words with no sound.

“Interesting.” He whispered absentmindedly and she grew quiet as if she had heard him in the depth of her chaotic little brain. He grinned crookedly through the dark and latched on to the idea of her dressed in red.

There was a noise in the hallway and he looked up a moment. When the hallway was still, he released his breath and looked back down. Her eyes were open; round, green orbs blazing up at him with her head still resting on her hand as it had when she slept. Her breathing had quieted immensely as she stared at him, not a flicker of fear to ease his sudden anxiety. They sat a moment in silence and Evander felt like a wolf, terrified of what its prey would turn into after its leap.

“Are you here to rip me apart?” She said this calmly and without inflection and it spooked the dark figure looming over her. The figure who had bathed in blood and giggled at a woman limping away in absolute terror. He stepped back towards the window, his arms stretched out behind him.

“Elsa?” He heard the door handle twitch. He turned and he threw up the white paned window, slipping out into the night. Voices continued from above as he dashed across the lawn.

“Elsa, what was that? Are you alright?” Her father.

“Death, Daddy. That's all.” Her voice trailed after him until he disappeared and came back together in Andelo's sitting room.

“Sir, you must understa-”

“No, Evander, you must understand what a travesty this is that I pay you the absurd amount that I do to take care of such a simplistic problem that I have. The girl is alive and I want her to not be. These visions of hers are becoming a serious, serious headache for me, and frankly, so are you.”