|| 5X FEATURED ||
When four local kids get trapped in an old house that wails and laughs, their only way out is to play four enchanted mind games.
*****
In the quaint town of Brook...
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They then walked in.
The neat interlocks carried hot smells of tar and chemicals. The small parking lot was half-filled. She looked not quite far and saw five dispatch vehicles. Alfred was already two feet ahead of her, so he grabbed the knob first.
He pushed and allowed Edith follow behind him.
Amidst all that was around her, she saw herself as a prey to a crop of uneasiness. The thoughts of where Alfred could possibly be in this new part of town battered her mind seriously.
She looked around, taking in the busy scene. Consistent phone dials, controlled conversations, keyboards clicking and exchange of files went on smoothly there. Dozens of police officers going to and fro with a rich vigor coursing through them.
"I'm here to report a missing person's case," Edith faced a young lady in the Oklahoma City cop uniform. Average height with a sturdy frame. Her police hat hung slightly on her head and she pulled it to fit.
"Persons," Alfred added quickly, raising one index finger.
"Over there," the lady cop pointed to their left, her blond bun showed its tip.
Edith and Alfred looked over, to behold a transparent office door. Through it, they saw two officers exchanging words on their seats. With no hesitation, they dashed over at once. Swimming in the indistinct chatters, clicks and sounds that filled the mild warm air.
*****
The dry wind carried a couple of fresh flower petals, swiftly, to the heavy iron gate of the orphanage. Everywhere was silent, no noise came from within. Then after a split second, soft murmurs began to arise. It was coming from the huge living room of the orphanage. It was designed in such a way, that all manners of furniture for all ages were carefully muddled into it.
The interior was painted brown, and so were all the old furniture. From the huge coffee table to the sofas, armchairs, recliner all were brown. It was like a granny's house there. An old lamp hung in the center filling the room with insufficient cream-coloured light. They had an old TV, but at the moment it was defunct.
A few kids of ages ten to twelve sat on different chairs, some on the ground, getting busy with themselves.
Two older kids stood right in front of their mistress; with their hands behind their backs. Her pale, saggy jaws and bulgy eyes fell on the fourteen-year-old kids. One could sense that they had invisible urine in their pants as the mistress glared at them. They felt trapped in a weird world of morbid horror.
"I ask you again, where is Jordan?" She moved her dry, thin lips.
Her frail hands swung very unnoticeably. She was in an all black gown with simple slippers. Her hair was unmade, just a short plain black hair dancing freely in the clogged air.
"We, we don't know. He suddenly went out early to play today. And we don't know why." The young boy replied, his tongue slightly mendacious.
She aimed a quick eye shot at the young girl. The young girl cowered slightly, shining her brown eyes on the old woman. She felt herself amid distress and humiliation.
"We don't even play together," the young girl was surprised that she even got called.
She gave the two kids a hopeless look, and narrowed her eyes up. An air which was distinctly critical met her crooked nose. She was standing at the door that led to the silent hallway.
She turned around and yelled, "Sally!"
An average height young woman emerged from the shadows. She was a Latin-American, with cocoa brown hair. She had a plain brown short gown, a large napkin tied around her waist. She was the cook, cleaner, and partially the second in charge around there.
The Mistress dismissed the kids with her index and middle finger pushed outwards.
Sally crouched and moved closer to The Mistress, as if to grab what she was muttering. The Mistress gave Sally a long and lazy look, gazing at her white hair tie and getting lost in her thoughts. She bore an almost pathetic appearance of ephemeral fragility.
"What are we going to do? We can't lose another kid. Not again." She poured out her burdened words for Sally's ears to hear.
***** Author note
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