Short Story: #1 "The Ziminsky Horror House"

The Beginning and the End

"Violet Maynard, get your butt down here and eat your stupid eggs!" Mrs.Zimisky screamed. Well, nore like bellowed with that voice of hers. Kel, Laney, and Marc sat silently around the old, crusty table. They knew better than to intervene. You didn't say or do anything when Mrs.Ziminsky was mad. Well, not if they wanted to live. See, Mrs.Ziminsky was a foster...something. Anything but a mother, or even a parent. She was an executioner of sorts, and was always able to come up with new, cruel ways to punish the children. So, when Violet didn't come downstairs, Mrs.Ziminsky stomped down the long hallway and up the rickety old stairs. As she was walking down the corridor to the last bedroom, she noticed a few things. Number one, All of the children's bedroom doors were opened to spotless rooms. No clothes or books on the floor, no overflowing trash cans,nothing. Which was very unusual, but clean rooms were the least of her concern right now. As she rounded the dead-end corner to Violet's broom closet of a room, she saw it: the window screen propped neatly against the wall, and the window pane up, letting in the freezing February air. She clicked the screen back into place and closed the window. She slammed open Violet's door and...nothing. The room was empty. She of course had no bed, dresser, or desk to begin with, but the room was spotless. Except for the crimson puddle, located right on the mound of towels were Violet slept last night. See, this was her most popular punishment: isolation. She would force the children to sleep in this closet whenever they misbehaved. They had no bed, and were made to sleep on cold, wet towels. But these towels were wet with something more absurd than just cold water. No, they were soaked in blood. As Mrs. Ziminsky ran downstairs screaming, she grabbed the phone and dialed 911, but there was no use. The line had been cut, last night in fact, in preparation for this event. She couldn't ask anyone around for help, either. The house was completely isolated. As Kel, Laney, and Marc ran upstairs, they put their plan into action. Grabbing their bags, packed last night with everything they owned, the climbed out the window, and onto the landing, where they let down the ladder and climbed down, one by one. As the last one jumped down, Mrs.Ziminsky came running around the side of the house screaming their names. It was too late. As they looked over their shoulders, she was too far behind to catch them now. The only thing they had to worry about was the long, black car coming straight at them down the alley.