“Hey Eric, did anyone ever close that case on the missing children?” I asked.
“Not that I know of, I’ll go get some more info right now.”
I stacked my papers neatly and turned off my computer and grabbed my keys to unlock the car. I drove to the river where the call was located.
It was a week since the children went missing. Five of them. Two eleven-year-olds and three fourteen-year-olds. Many people thought they could have ran away, but the police departments thought otherwise.
I had reached the spot where I saw the bright yellow tape that says CAUTION on it. Ignoring the sign, I decided to walk around for a bit with one hand on my gun, making sure I wasn’t in any type of danger, looking by the bridge, near the trees, under blankets of leaves.
A cold wind brushed against my face. Autumn. The leaves are turning red and orange and yellow; the sky’s still blue with clouds scattered in a pattern of clumps. I can see a dog; I can see a bird. I can see a cartoon guy and I can even make out what seems to be a child.
I stared up at the sky for a moment wondering if any children were up there, looking down at me, shaking their heads. The sound of a cell phone startles me back into reality. I answered it.
“Hello, this is Darren Williams from the Oakland Sheriff’s Department,” I said.
“Hello, Darren.” I could hear a deep, dark voice. “So glad that you answered the phone.”
“Who is this?”
“Why don’t you ask, what is it? Seems like a more appropriate question, don’t you think?” They respond.
“I—cut to the chase, who is this?” I demanded.
“The killer.”
“Very funny, I need to get back to work on finding a real killer, not some teenager who’s bored at home. Bye.” I begin to remove the phone from my ear when, all of a sudden, it vibrates again.
It’s them. “Listen, pal. I’ve alr-”
“You will not hang up on me again. Ever. Now listen closely. The five children are underwater under the bridge. You shouldn’t need a scuba diver; just walk in the water and you should find five children. I’ve injected them with some, let’s call them, enhancers. So they aren’t dead. Good luck.”
Hanging up, I shook my head and look at the sky. It’s now dark. I tilt my head in confusion—it was day just a minute ago. I turned around to walk back to my car when suddenly they are there.
The children. Five of them. Standing. Staring. Wearing white gowns, skin pale, eyes baggy (from the lack of sleep, I presume). Scabs and wounds all over the children. Noises that I couldn’t quite comprehend.
One of them immediately ran towards me so fast I fell backward. I yell as I tried to fight him. White foam spills from their mouth, falling into mine, causing me to taste the bitter toxic taste of the foam. The rest join in. Their sharp nails dig into my skin, causing me to scream.
I somehow managed to escape them and run back to my car, but my car engine was in pieces. I popped the trunk open and pulled out guns and an ax. I closed the trunk and turned back to find them but they were standing right there, with blank and emotionless expressions.
I shot one of them, but it didn’t do anything; they just stood there. I grabbed knives from my belt and threw it at one of them. It hit them in their left eye and they scream; their raspy, hoarse voice barely makes sounds. But then they shriek piercing loud screams, all synchronized. I cover my ears, and that’s when they move.
I quickly grabbed a hold of the ax and bring it down on one of their skulls. I pulled out my second knife and repeatedly stab the others, swinging my arm and carrying the knife, blood spilling everywhere, their screeches turned into screaming.
Suddenly, they all disappear. And the phone rings. I count my breaths. “What…do…you want?”
“What?” Eric’s voice appears. “I’m sorry, are you busy?”
“I’m sorry, I was just busy fighting the five children. They are possessed, I shot a few of them— stabbed them—oh yeah, an ax is sticking out of one,” I said, all in one breath.
“Darren,” Eric hesitated. “Did you find them?”
“Yeah, but then I killed them. But they aren’t real, because they left. They’re still alive, though, so be careful.” I hung up. And there they were.
I got more knives and kept on slashing and slashing. Stabbing and stabbing. Police sirens. Finally, some help.
“DARREN PUT THE KNIFE DOWN, THEY’RE ALREADY DEAD!” I heard Eric yelling, pointing a gun at me.
“WHAT?” I yelled back. “HELP ME, YOU DUMB SON OF A GUN!”
I turn away to breathe and when I look back, there are the five children. On the ground, bleeding, dying. Well, they are already dead. Knives sticking out of them, an ax lodged in one’s head. They were so pretty. They’re wearing normal clothes, hiking clothes. They were hiking. They got lost. Who was that guy who called me? What happened? Were they not possessed?
“WAIT! IT’S NOT WHAT YOU THINK!” I yell.
I look around to see more officers surrounding me. I give up. I take my gun but before I could reach my hand out, I fall to the ground, without a sound.
Pitch black. It wasn’t what I thought. It wasn’t what I thought.
“Things are not always what they seem; the first appearance deceives many; the intelligence of few perceives what has been carefully hidden in the recesses of the mind.” – Phaedrus
THE END
“Not that I know of, I’ll go get some more info right now.”
I stacked my papers neatly and turned off my computer and grabbed my keys to unlock the car. I drove to the river where the call was located.
It was a week since the children went missing. Five of them. Two eleven-year-olds and three fourteen-year-olds. Many people thought they could have ran away, but the police departments thought otherwise.
I had reached the spot where I saw the bright yellow tape that says CAUTION on it. Ignoring the sign, I decided to walk around for a bit with one hand on my gun, making sure I wasn’t in any type of danger, looking by the bridge, near the trees, under blankets of leaves.
A cold wind brushed against my face. Autumn. The leaves are turning red and orange and yellow; the sky’s still blue with clouds scattered in a pattern of clumps. I can see a dog; I can see a bird. I can see a cartoon guy and I can even make out what seems to be a child.
I stared up at the sky for a moment wondering if any children were up there, looking down at me, shaking their heads. The sound of a cell phone startles me back into reality. I answered it.
“Hello, this is Darren Williams from the Oakland Sheriff’s Department,” I said.
“Hello, Darren.” I could hear a deep, dark voice. “So glad that you answered the phone.”
“Who is this?”
“Why don’t you ask, what is it? Seems like a more appropriate question, don’t you think?” They respond.
“I—cut to the chase, who is this?” I demanded.
“The killer.”
“Very funny, I need to get back to work on finding a real killer, not some teenager who’s bored at home. Bye.” I begin to remove the phone from my ear when, all of a sudden, it vibrates again.
It’s them. “Listen, pal. I’ve alr-”
“You will not hang up on me again. Ever. Now listen closely. The five children are underwater under the bridge. You shouldn’t need a scuba diver; just walk in the water and you should find five children. I’ve injected them with some, let’s call them, enhancers. So they aren’t dead. Good luck.”
Hanging up, I shook my head and look at the sky. It’s now dark. I tilt my head in confusion—it was day just a minute ago. I turned around to walk back to my car when suddenly they are there.
The children. Five of them. Standing. Staring. Wearing white gowns, skin pale, eyes baggy (from the lack of sleep, I presume). Scabs and wounds all over the children. Noises that I couldn’t quite comprehend.
One of them immediately ran towards me so fast I fell backward. I yell as I tried to fight him. White foam spills from their mouth, falling into mine, causing me to taste the bitter toxic taste of the foam. The rest join in. Their sharp nails dig into my skin, causing me to scream.
I somehow managed to escape them and run back to my car, but my car engine was in pieces. I popped the trunk open and pulled out guns and an ax. I closed the trunk and turned back to find them but they were standing right there, with blank and emotionless expressions.
I shot one of them, but it didn’t do anything; they just stood there. I grabbed knives from my belt and threw it at one of them. It hit them in their left eye and they scream; their raspy, hoarse voice barely makes sounds. But then they shriek piercing loud screams, all synchronized. I cover my ears, and that’s when they move.
I quickly grabbed a hold of the ax and bring it down on one of their skulls. I pulled out my second knife and repeatedly stab the others, swinging my arm and carrying the knife, blood spilling everywhere, their screeches turned into screaming.
Suddenly, they all disappear. And the phone rings. I count my breaths. “What…do…you want?”
“What?” Eric’s voice appears. “I’m sorry, are you busy?”
“I’m sorry, I was just busy fighting the five children. They are possessed, I shot a few of them— stabbed them—oh yeah, an ax is sticking out of one,” I said, all in one breath.
“Darren,” Eric hesitated. “Did you find them?”
“Yeah, but then I killed them. But they aren’t real, because they left. They’re still alive, though, so be careful.” I hung up. And there they were.
I got more knives and kept on slashing and slashing. Stabbing and stabbing. Police sirens. Finally, some help.
“DARREN PUT THE KNIFE DOWN, THEY’RE ALREADY DEAD!” I heard Eric yelling, pointing a gun at me.
“WHAT?” I yelled back. “HELP ME, YOU DUMB SON OF A GUN!”
I turn away to breathe and when I look back, there are the five children. On the ground, bleeding, dying. Well, they are already dead. Knives sticking out of them, an ax lodged in one’s head. They were so pretty. They’re wearing normal clothes, hiking clothes. They were hiking. They got lost. Who was that guy who called me? What happened? Were they not possessed?
“WAIT! IT’S NOT WHAT YOU THINK!” I yell.
I look around to see more officers surrounding me. I give up. I take my gun but before I could reach my hand out, I fall to the ground, without a sound.
Pitch black. It wasn’t what I thought. It wasn’t what I thought.
“Things are not always what they seem; the first appearance deceives many; the intelligence of few perceives what has been carefully hidden in the recesses of the mind.” – Phaedrus
THE END
