Red As Roses and Black As Night

4. And So It Begins

"She what?"

"Oh, nothing. Is that all you called for? Okay, by--"

"No, wait!" I shouted, standing up. I didn't here the beeping, so I knew she was still there. I remembered the dare, and I guess this is fine.

"Why didn't you send my sister back?" I finally asked.

"Because she said she was a grave digger looking for bones. Hey, I have a question. Is she mentally ill or have a psychological problem, or...?"

I froze. Not where I anted this to lead. I looked away from the window and went to the next window. I could see the whole backyard...

"She had cancer a while back, if she hasn't told you. Not that she remembers. It was a rare one, only about two hundred thousand cases a year. After two years of chemo, she was five, and should have been fine, but then it came back. Four more years of it has messed with her head, and I'm waiting for the doctor to prescribe medicine for her before she becomes psychopathic."

"...Oh...I...I'm sorry..."

"Nah, it's cool. She's okay now, same as the way she was before the cancer, only really morbid. She can look pretty scary in the dark, too, but she's a ray of sunshine, really."

"Ah, yes she is. Ezekiel loves using her as a mop as she clings to his leg."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Can I go now? I need time to process this morning, and to think."

"Okay? But--"

"Okay! Bye-bye!" she shouted, and I swear I heard a sigh before she hung up. I frowned at my phone, but before I could do anything I got a text. Dude, where u at?

Home. I responded to Henri, and a response came mere milliseconds after. 

Derick found nothing. Just a note with fingerprints, a trace of blood. But nothing.

Blood?

The kid's blood, nothing special.

I frowned. Maybe he picked his lips a lot when he was alive, but we can't be certain. I growled and threw my phone to the couch, stomping to the sunroom. There was a punching bag in the corner, and I didn't even bother wrapping my hands up in anything before attacking it. My parents had gotten it for me two years ago after I got into kickboxing, and since then I've gotten better at self-defense and ruining my knuckles.

But as I punched and kicked, something began to drip from it. I stopped, and bent down to see. It was dirt, mud. How did that get there? I bent down and looked underneath the punching bag. I gasped and backed away with lightning speed. One of Emma's dolls was beneath it, somehow stuck to the bottom. Dirt was spilling from a crack in her head, much more than what should fit in a doll. The eyes were all black, too, and the dress looked so ripped that it could have been hundreds of years old.

"Fane, what's wrong?" My mother asked from the door to the sunroom. She was still in her robe, but now she had a cup of tea. I guess the coffee machine didn't work.

"Nothing, it's just...I need duct tape. To fix a hole." I lied, and my mom shook her head. "Child, what am I going to do with you? How did you manage to rip the bottom?"

"Ah...magic?"

My mom laughed, revealing teeth that were red. Red as roses...

I sniffed, and recognized the tea instantly. I didn't know what was wrong with it, but there was definitely something...not right...about it. "Hey mom, does that tea...taste funny to you?"