It was a little past midnight on a starless, moonless night. It was pitch black and dead quiet outside. I was out there with my sister Claire, a 15year old, 2 years younger than I am and together we watched it all. With only the glass screen separating us, we watched the slaughter, a cold heartless slaughter.
I saw in his eyes an evil that froze my spine, a bloody evil. Through his eyes I could see his black soul, as black as the night which he would paint with strokes of his dagger and his victim’s blood. His victims were tied arms behind and knelt facing each other, Nick and his wife Maria. And sobbing on a corner by the side of the sofa was their little girl, Jenny.
He grabbed the Nick by the hair and from behind with a slow but steady movement he slashed his neck. Blood pumped out from the slit like a fountain I had seen in the new town mall. Claire grabbed my arm, terrified and transmitting the vibrations of her fear on to me. I turned instantly and gave her the “make-no-sound look.” I watched again and he was behind Maria. Now I was shaking too. He pulled back her hair but this time he stabbed her on the chest, then again, and again, and yet again.
With a half spin he turned to face little Jenny. “Not the little girl!” I screamed, in my mind. With an evil grin he called on to her “Come little one. Daddy is gone, mummy is too and they wait on the other side for you.” Claire grabbed me tighter, the frequency and amplitude of our vibration was spiking. Surely no one would be spared of this horror, not little Jenny, not me, not Claire. “Oh if only she would not scream” I prayed under my heavy breaths. Barely had I finished my prayer, at the moment he took a step closer to little Jenny, Claire screamed. Poor thing, she shouldn’t have but she did.
Immediately, the lights came on and dad rushed into the sitting room. I’m busted again watching movie in the middle of the night, this time a horror movie, this time with my younger sister. I knew I was in for real horror, the ‘whip horror’.