Secrets the Darkness Keeps and Other Menacing Short Stories

Secrets the Darkness Keeps

The sliver of moon sunk hours ago, far below the mountainous horizon that surrounded the valley like citadels, guarding the townspeople against the outside world. On nights like these, hot chocolate and fresh funnel cakes would wake even the most exhausted of sleepers. People's heels dancing and running on the cobblestone streets and chattering away like squirrels would have echoed off the base of the mountains for hours. The flickering of candles filled every window and lantern along the street and the children would have their own party indoors away from the cold of the night.

But no such celebration filled the streets tonight. The chilling winter mist carried the essence of evergreens from the forest to the townspeople tucked far beneath layers of blankets and sweaters. Not a squeak from the tiniest of mice heard, for even they hid in their holes. The townspeople had boarded up the luminous candlelight from behind the windows of their homes and businesses. Everyone was sound asleep or pretending to be.

A sound like slow, muffled tap shoes resonated down the street. Thip... thip... thip... thip...

Jezebel's socks muffled any sound her feet made on the cold cobblestones beneath her as she glowered into the mist. She almost tasted the warmth and comfort of each home as she passed by, and part of her wished they would get in her way. Then she'd get to stop them however she liked.

The light from the lanterns retreated into the darkness as if terrified by the sight of her as she shuffled by. Jezebel didn't mind, though, the dark kept the best secrets. Oh, yes, the dark kept lots of Jezebel's secrets, lots of her hiding places.

Jezebel twisted down an alley near the end of the street and pressed her fingertips against the wall at her side. Her fingernails began tearing up against the rough brick wall, sounding like a car driving over gravel as she searched for the doorknob. Almost three-quarters down the narrow alley, she rediscovered the doorknob. As Jezebel's long, spindly fingers clutched around the handle, time held its breath. She shoved the door open, and it groaned like a child mad with hunger.

"Anton?" her mother, Moira, called in a whisper. "Is she... Is it done?"

Jezebel sneered with malice into the room as she shuffled forward, and the candlelight shrunk away from her. "Sorry, Mummy," she mocked with wild eyes. "I got Daddy first. He was bad... like you."

The dim candlelight cast enough light to see the terror on Moira's face as she looked upon the blood-soaked devil that took her child so long ago. A monstrous demon who found joy in the screeches of children as they skinned their knees from tripping, and butchering animals to see what their insides felt like. A venomous serpent devouring all in its path replaced the child Moira once cradled in her arms.

But they'd failed to stop her; the monster lived. It was alive and thriving off the pain and death of others.

"Please..." Moira uttered as she sank to the floor, her knees giving out from under her. She raised her hands, but she didn't know why. Nothing could stop Jezebel now.

Quiet as a wraith, Jezebel stalked forward to Moira, and a blade longer than her arm winked with red eyes in the dim light. With a swish of the blade, the light in her mother's eyes went out faster than the candle.

Jezebel blinked, peering into the darkness at what she had done before shutting the door behind her wake. She thought about the two new secrets the darkness would have to keep as she strode down the street again, blood dripping down the blade. Thip... thip... thip... thip...