It all began when I was sixteen, Katie was seventeen at the time. Even then we were good friends, before these...events would pull us together. It was Saturday, I was in my backyard reading a book that I had rented from the library the week before. The due date was coming up soon and I was cramming to finish it so I wouldn't have to renew it, because in Council, Idaho there's a limit for renews. Only six a month; and those precious six renews I wanted to save for the longer books that I had planned to read -- that summer there were a couple books I had on my 'To Read' list that were over one thousand pages long. Anyways, I was sitting there reading my book, when I heard a scream, filled with terror and horror, come from the other side of the street, coming from the Whitemore -- not their real name -- house, which was next door to Katie's home. Now you have to understand that in Council a scream like the one I had just heard only mean that something bad -- very bad -- had happened. Also the crime rate was, to be honest, rather nonexistent. There was no crime rate before that summer, but something was going to happen that would make the crime rate raise by more than five hundred percent.

Upon hearing the scream, I jumped to my feet, still holding my book open as I had when I was reading it. Another scream rang out, this one sounding worse than the first -- if that was possible. That second scream broke my somewhat paralysis; I dropped the book, and began running towards the scream. I hopped the fence that led to the street easily and ran across the street, which was the general area from which the scream came. A third scream sounded off and I readjusted my running to head directly towards it. It was indeed the Whitemore's house. I vaulted over their large privacy fence without struggle and ran down the side of the house and into the backyard where I was confronted with the ultimate horror.

The Whitemores were a younger family, the father, Terry, was in his late twenties, and the mother, Tabitha, was in her mid twenties. They had two children: Tommy, who was five years old, and Mary, who was four years old. What I saw in the Whitemore's backyard was a bloody mess -- literally. There was blood splattered across the back fence as if someone had exploded, and there was small clothes lying about five feet from the fence, some belonged to a boy and some belonged to a girl; they were both soaked through with blood. But there was no bodies; and when Mrs. Whitemore, Tabitha, suddenly ran from where she had screamed in frozen terror three times, I ran forward, trying to cut her off from their clothes, knowing that if there was anything left in them that it would not be something she would want to see, nor would it be something she should see. But she had a head start on me and was, somehow, faster than me at that moment. I was nearly five feet behind her when she reached the...remains -- if that's how I could properly describe it -- of her children. Terry wasn't at home, that I knew; he was down in Boise for a conference that day, I remembered my mother and Mrs. Whitemore talking about it the other day. Mrs. Whitemore held up the boy clothes that were soaked with blood, to the point that a steady stream dripped from the corners as she held them up, and as she did, a bloody pulp, which was all that was left of Tommy, save for his clothes, fell out of them and hit the grassy floor with a wet squishy sound. It splattered some blood that had swamped the back yard lawn on to her thighs and chest. Screaming and sobbing, she dropped the bloody clothes and took a step back. I avoided running into her easily, but she slipped on the swamped grass and fell down with a splash into the inch deep puddle of blood that covered the entire back lawn.

By that time other people had come and a few of the men helped me move her from the grass, since she had fainted or passed out. Either way, she wasn't conscious.

Within five minutes a few of the police officers arrived and within twenty, the back yard lawn was taped off as a crime scene and Mrs. Whitemore was admitted into the hospital, according to a paramedic, suffering from shock.

However, out of all the things that I noticed, I didn't notice Katie staring at the backyard with a look of pure horror on her face.

- Michael Hall

@MichaelHall

It all began when I was sixteen, Katie was seventeen at the time. Even then we were good friends, before these...events would pull us together. It was Saturday, I was in my backyard reading a book that I had rented from the library the week before. The due date was coming up soon and I was cramming to finish it so I wouldn’t have to renew it, because in Council, Idaho there’s a limit for renews. Only six a month; and those precious six renews I wanted to save for the longer books that I had planned to read -- that summer there were a couple books I had on my ‘To Read’ list that were over one thousand pages long. Anyways, I was sitting there reading my book, when I heard a scream, filled with terror and horror, come from the other side of the street, coming from the Whitemore -- not their real name -- house, which was next door to Katie’s home. Now you have to understand that in Council a scream like the one I had just heard only mean that something bad -- very bad -- had happened. Also the crime rate was, to be honest, rather nonexistent. There was no crime rate before that summer, but something was going to happen that would make the crime rate raise by more than five hundred percent.

Upon hearing the scream, I jumped to my feet, still holding my book open as I had when I was reading it. Another scream rang out, this one sounding worse than the first -- if that was possible. That second scream broke my somewhat paralysis; I dropped the book, and began running towards the scream. I hopped the fence that led to the street easily and ran across the street, which was the general area from which the scream came. A third scream sounded off and I readjusted my running to head directly towards it. It was indeed the Whitemore’s house. I vaulted over their large privacy fence without struggle and ran down the side of the house and into the backyard where I was confronted with the ultimate horror.

The Whitemores were a younger family, the father, Terry, was in his late twenties, and the mother, Tabitha, was in her mid twenties. They had two children: Tommy, who was five years old, and Mary, who was four years old. What I saw in the Whitemore’s backyard was a bloody mess -- literally. There was blood splattered across the back fence as if someone had exploded, and there was small clothes lying about five feet from the fence, some belonged to a boy and some belonged to a girl; they were both soaked through with blood. But there was no bodies; and when Mrs. Whitemore, Tabitha, suddenly ran from where she had screamed in frozen terror three times, I ran forward, trying to cut her off from their clothes, knowing that if there was anything left in them that it would not be something she would want to see, nor would it be something she should see. But she had a head start on me and was, somehow, faster than me at that moment. I was nearly five feet behind her when she reached the...remains -- if that’s how I could properly describe it -- of her children. Terry wasn’t at home, that I knew; he was down in Boise for a conference that day, I remembered my mother and Mrs. Whitemore talking about it the other day. Mrs. Whitemore held up the boy clothes that were soaked with blood, to the point that a steady stream dripped from the corners as she held them up, and as she did, a bloody pulp, which was all that was left of Tommy, save for his clothes, fell out of them and hit the grassy floor with a wet squishy sound. It splattered some blood that had swamped the back yard lawn on to her thighs and chest. Screaming and sobbing, she dropped the bloody clothes and took a step back. I avoided running into her easily, but she slipped on the swamped grass and fell down with a splash into the inch deep puddle of blood that covered the entire back lawn.

By that time other people had come and a few of the men helped me move her from the grass, since she had fainted or passed out. Either way, she wasn’t conscious.

Within five minutes a few of the police officers arrived and within twenty, the back yard lawn was taped off as a crime scene and Mrs. Whitemore was admitted into the hospital, according to a paramedic, suffering from shock.

However, out of all the things that I noticed, I didn’t notice Katie staring at the backyard with a look of pure horror on her face.

****

@rh

The clink of a pebble against glass and I was upright in my bed. The alarm clock read 01:58 and my blinds were closed. Books might topple tyrants and governments but they were a weak defense against blood thirsty killers, I dropped the paper back and eyed the distance between my bed and door. I'll be damned if I die a virgin. Another pebble hit the glass and I hear a young girl's voice-- "It's me. Katie."

I put on my pants and looked at the silhouette in the window. Could be Katie. Could be a corpse. Best I could remember, ventriloquism wasn't common among killers so I crept up to the window and said-- "Hold on." as quiet and firm as I could, hating that my voice cracked.

A deep breath and I pull up the blinds. Katie. I open the window and let her crawl in, looking up and down the moon bathed street before shutting the window and drawing the blinds down.

"What are you doing here?" I asked her, feeling a little guilty for the swell in my pants.

"I couldn't sleep."

"I'm not sure anyone is."

"No. I guess not." She said, looking around my room. "At some point you are going to have to redecorate."

"I think it's fine the way it is."

"You said the same thing in fifth grade."

"Hey, dinosaurs were cool."

"Uh huh."

"Katie, you okay?"

"What are you reading?" She pointed at the book on my bed, walking up to it and plucking it off the mattress. "Brave New World" she said out loud. "What's it about?"

"Our future, a new world order, Henry Ford is the second coming of Christ but instead of heaven he gives us machines."

"Sounds stupid."

"It's probably my favorite book."

"Oh. Well, I'm sure there are good parts."

"You didn't come here to rag on my book. Do you want to talk?"

"No. Yes."

"Let's go with yes."

"Did you...see anything?"

"No. I just heard the screaming and saw the, you know."

"Yeah."

"Did you...see anything?"

Katie sat on the bed and looked at the clock. On the other side of the house I could hear my dad watching TV. "Turn on the light." She said.

"What? Okay. Why?"

"I want to tell you what I saw."

*******

The moment I flipped on the lights I regretted it. Katie's normally tanned skin was pale. Her blue eyes, black. Her sweet smile, blood thirsty.

"Shit." I fumbled backwards away from her trying unsuccessfully to find the doorknob. She moved quickly towards me. Too quickly. "What's wrong? Don't you want to know what happened?" She leaned toward me. "I can show you"

I was frozen. Trapped by the void that was in her eyes. "Mmmmm" she licked the side of my neck "you are going to be tasty"

What was I doing? Letting a 5 foot 100 pound girl scare me into a corner. I tightened my fist. But before I could take a swing a shadow pulled the girl away from me. A shadow that looked like Katie. The real Katie.