"Don't be scared"

She's begging

Her eyes would be pleading I know it

I try to put on a brave face but I blow it and she stands a mixture of mourning and malice

"Don't be scared"

She's approaching

Her footsteps ring silent in my ears

She's floating closing in on my fears

"Don't be scared"

She's near

Breath tickles my breast but to let it loose feels unsympathetic

And my heart beats sporadic

And she listens as if it were a concerto

And the song ends

And the final note rings in my ears as the blood spills

The flood fills

My whole world was numb and we were empty

Veins unplugged

So much for love

Counting hens teeth

in hounds tooth.

Boots up to the knees.

She is carrot headed

and soft.

The sweetest thing.

Smart and lively.

Educated and put together.

Wild, but with enough elegance

to take home to your mother.

You meet her at a bar.

A sleek clean place

that makes tasteless

hipster cocktails.

She orders you a shot.

You meet her

at the library.

Her eyes find yours

as they rise from the page.

She gives you a book boner.

She will be your

best first date.

She has your sense of humor.

Her laugh will

make your heart fizz.

She won’t fuck you

until the second date.

You will take a cab to her place.

You will almost blow your load

in the backseat.

She will straddle you

in the lace lingerie

hidden beneath

her perfect dress.

Her kisses are butter.

When she lowers

herself onto your dick,

you will die.

Her leech mouthed cunt

will bleed you dry.

- -

???

I'm not insane.

I don't know why anyone would think so.

I can't believe a thought like that would ever cross someone's mind.

It's almost impossible.

If I'm crazy, then what are you?

Ha, then you must be completely out of your mind.

Do you even have one?

I pride myself on being empathetic, clever, manipulative, and sweet.

Those are traits you'll see when you meet me, right?

I'm sure everybody sees that.

I was really clever in boiling in the body, right?

Human meat actually isn't that bad.

Not as bad as fish meat, ugh.

Some girls on the street were looking hungry, so I gave them some soup.

They liked it, so I took them in, and made them it once a week.

I'm happy that someone loves me.

- -

EVERETT

Murders are happening all around the country.

At least once a week, another person is added to the bloody trail that leads across the continent.

When they are discovered missing, a note is always taped to their bedroom door, saying "Sorry" and some condescending things.

The notes are always signed "ERA".

Ever since my grandmother fell victim, I've been on the chase.

Seems like "ERA" is heading to my town next.

I'll be sure to catch her.

- -

???

Hmm...?

A knock on the door.

Oh, look.

An officer~!

"Hello, Officer! What can I offer you today?"

He's staring at me like I'm crazy.

I'm not!

I told all of you, right?

I'm not crazy at all.

"Officer? Would you like some tea?"

...

Did I grow horns?

- -

EVERETT

There's only one word in my head.

BEAUTIFUL.

She's dressed in all black with a ruby necklace.

Enchanting.

"Um, of course. I'd enjoy some tea."

She leads me into the kitchen, where a delicious smell is coming from the pot next to her chair.

"What might that be, ma'am?"

- -

???

I give the pot a quick glance, then turn back, smiling.

"Oh, this? It's dinner! You see, I've adopted three little girls and they absolutely love my soup. Would you like some, sir?"

I am so, so smart.

And courageous, too.

The officer nods and I serve him a bowl.

- -

EVERETT

It is absolutely delicious.

"Oh, by the way, my name's Everett. Or Ever for short."

- -

???

"Ever! How nice!"

I smile.

"My name is Era~. I hope you have a nice day! Well, if you manage to live through it."

A look of pure horror crosses his face.

"Oh, and this soup? Mr. Everett Forest Silver, this is your grandmother you're eating right now. I hope it's not too sinewy, I did boil it for a long time..."

- -

EVERETT

I almost drop my bowl, but I don't want to ruin her precious china.

"Ah... Well..."

I take a step back, out of my chair.

"Would you like to continue this conversation later, ma'am?"

I ask in my politest voice.

"You are very intriguing, and I would love to interview you further."

- -

ERA

"Oh, of course! Here, take a note with you so you don't forget."

I hand one of my black slips to him, already marked with white chalk.

I escort him to the door, smiling.

"Have a wonderful day, Ever!"

I kiss his cheek as a goodbye, making his face pale and red at the same time, and making his slender hands shake.

I think he'll taste good, one way or the other.

Freak.

Weirdo.

And even on occasion, asshole.

He'd been called all of the above. He was used to it, but he was happy in his own skin. And every now and then, someone else's skin too.

Jim Colton smiled to himself as he thought of all these things and got out of his car on a warm April morning. He grabbed his briefcase and locked his car. He checked the handle of the drivers side door and strolled across the car park to the main door of the building.

He was definitely himself this morning. And being the empath that he was, that was a good thing.

Walking past outer reception he received a few perfunctory good mornings, which he politely returned. A couple of people smiled at him on his way through to the security check area, where he displayed his credentials, and was ushered through. A few turns of the corridor beyond and a short elevator ride later and he was inside the Behavioural Science unit, and standing at his desk.

There were roughly twenty VICAP files there, fresh that morning. Colton had been with Behavioural Science in the FBI for fifteen years, and although he knew full well how many of these types of criminal were out there, it always astounded him how many fresh files he found on his desk every day. Never mind. He'd work them all, it was what he did. He knew these people. Maybe too well.

No one really talked to him here. They didn't really like being told what they were going to do before they did it.

He sat, and cast his eye over his colleagues. He knew them all of course, more deeply than he might have liked. He was an empath. He couldn't help it.

It made him a loner, but he didn't mind. He'd been even more alone since his wife Jane had left seven years ago. Yes he'd become successful in his field, and their life was very comfortable. But he'd bring these people home to dinner, in his head. And the ensuing conversations became too much. Too frightening. She'd called an ambulance, and as it pulled away with her husband and many violent criminals inside it, she'd picked up the phone and dialled a number. A man had come to pick her up.

The next day she was gone, and the day after that the house was empty. Colton found out a month later when he'd been given a clean bill of health. Jane didn't come back. Jim threw himself into his work, and that year his sight, his blessing and a curse, had captured four of the FBI's ten Most Wanted.

In Behavioural Science, he was a superstar. To the FBI, their most prized asset. As for Colton, he'd have just had his wife back. But it wasn't going to happen.

Never mind.

It was going to be one of those days. He could tell. To think like a killer to catch one. It was what Jim Colton did. To get inside another persons mind, to pre-empt their thoughts, their behaviour. He never trained. It was what he was best at.

Three VICAP files were open on his desk. He stared at them a while longer, then suddenly snapped them shut, placed them back on the pile marked 'in' and rose from his chair.

'Hey Jim, everything ok?' Someone had noticed him snap the files shut and had asked the question. He thought about ignoring the woman, and was about to, but he checked himself, and replied politely, 'Yes. Thank you. I'm fine.'

'Ok, as long as you are.'

She turned and walked the few steps to her own desk, which to Coltons surprise was directly behind his. Why hadn't I noticed her before, he thought to himself. He normally saw everything.

Never mind.

Jim Colton slowly crossed the floor until he reached the window. He leant on the sill and took in the view of the city. It always thrilled him, the concrete jungle, the maze of streets and alleyways. He'd lived here all his life, and he knew the city well. Many a time he'd lost himself walking those alleys and streets, but never got physically lost. He always knew his way.

Turning around to face the room, the rising morning sun lit him from behind and cast his shadow long. It stopped at the nice lady who'd asked after him, and was now at her desk.

She kind of looked like her. Similar build and height, similar hair colour and style, the smile...

No, she did look like her. She was her. Wasn't she?

Yes, Jim Colton thought. This one will do nicely. Only one question remained.

Who would he be today?

Footsteps, echoing

through empty rooms.

Foolish, for thinking themselves to be alone.

Laughter, at the edge of their hearing,

Or merely the wind?

Slam! The windows scurry shut.

C r e a k ! A door swung open without prompting.

bum-bum! Heartbeat racing.

Music? But who could stand to hear such eerie tones?

The neighbors, they think, have always been strange;

A prank, perhaps, or just strange tastes.

With such sound logic, none could protest,

Except for the heart beating in his chest.

Silence? The mysterious night settles down.

Investigation ensues, but all inquiries come up empty.

c r e a k , The door settles into place.

Howl! cries the wind, beating against the shutters

Shhh, whispers a voice not there a moment before.

Frozen, the heart stills and comprehends,

A beat it shall have no more.

EXT. SUBURBAN STREET. NIGHT.

Houses caked in store bought horror alight by lamps and pumpkins, groups of young children shift from door to door, dressed as nightmares, gathering candy.

A LITTLE GIRL dressed as skeleton, on a door step, lovingly picks a single piece candy from the bucket the adult holds out to her. She smiles sweetly, turns and skips away down the garden path.

INT. NEIGHBORING HOUSE LIVING-ROOM. NIGHT.

Among the sweet wrappers that cover the floor AMY (14) snuggles up to a horror film, her eyes glaze over; the gore on screen doesn’t faze her. Her hand finds a new piece of candy from the bucket next to her. She unwraps it and throws the rubbish away.

The door bell rings. Amy rolls her eyes, pops the sweet in her mouth, and presses the pause button. She gets up and walks out the room.

INT. HALLWAY. NIGHT.

Amy opens the door. The Skeleton Girl is the other side. She holds her bag out optimistically and smiles sweetly.

SKELETON GIRL: Trick or treat, smell my feet or give me something good to eat.

AMY: Sorry girl, but we're out of sweets.

And Amy shuts the door on her.

EXT. DOOR STEP. NIGHT.

The other side of the door. The Skeleton Girl still stands, still smiling.

SKELETON GIRL: If you don’t I wont be sad (Her face hardens) I'll just make you wish you had.

FADE TO BLACK.

Horror DVD menu music plays.

FADE IN:

INT. LIVING-ROOM. NIGHT.

Amy’s eyes blink open, with every blink her vision gets sharper. A young child’s foot becomes reconcilable in the forefront of her vision. She scrapers back.

AMY: What the F...? How the hell did you get in here?

The Skeleton Girl slowly puts her foot down, to sit crossed legged on the floor. She doesn’t answer.

AMY (Takes a deep breath): You seem a bit... er lost. Maybe we should call your mum and dad?

No answer, she just sits crossed legged on the floor, staring.

AMY: Do you know their number?

(Beat)

AMY : No, OK.

She stays silent.

AMY: Well I’m Amy, What’s your name? (Beat) Come on, I bet it's pretty.

The Skeleton Girl just stares at her.

AMY: You're not going to speak to me? You break into my house and you're not going to speak to me. (takes another deep breath) How about, you just wait here and I will be right back. I just have a call to make? OK?

Amy gets up, trying not to turn her back on the Skeleton Girl; who watches her every move, her head turning. Amy picks up the phone and leaves the room.

Moments later Amy re-enters, closing the door behind her. She looks at the floor and the Skeleton Girl has gone.

Amy’s eyes scan the living room frantically.

AMY: Hello.

Amy slowly puts the phone back on the receiver.

AMY: Are you still here? There’s going to be some very nice people to come and take you home shortly.

Amy curiously checks the ...

INT. KITCHEN. NIGHT.

Looking for the Skeleton Girl, calling for her. It’s empty.

INT. LIVING-ROOM. NIGHT.

Amy goes back to the sofa, and takes a seat, her eyes still darting backwards and forwards.

Suddenly a knife nicks her ankle, cutting a blood vessel, her feet jump forward.

She bends over the edge of the sofa. Slowly, reluctantly, she moves her hand to the bottom of the hanging material, she gabs hold and...

pulls it up quick. Eyes glare out from the darkens. Amy rockets off the sofa, her bleeding foot buckles under her weight and she falls to the floor.

Amy watches the sofa. The Skeleton Girl pears out from underneath. She crawls forward, knife held in her mouth.

AMY: What do you want?

The Skeleton Girl just crawls ever closer, over the scattered sweet wrappers.

Amy scuttles back into a corner.

AMY: What did I ever do to you?

Amy eyes glint with tears. The Skeleton Girls mouth glints with metal. Closer she crawls, Amy can’t get any further back. Inches apart.

The Skeleton Girl stops, she looks down at her hand, she picks something up and looks at it intensely. She rocks back onto her shines; kneeling in front of Amy.

The Skeleton Girl spins the wrapped lollipop in her hand. Amy looks on confused as the Skeleton Girl, lovingly, opens it. She takes the knife out of her mouth and pops the lolly in.

The Skeleton Girl smiles, jumps up and leaves the room.

Amy watches her leave, not moving from her huddle on the floor. Her eyes flicker to the knife and the dried slither of blood upon it. The front door bangs shut.

EXT. STREET. NIGHT.

The Skeleton Girl skips down the garden path and onto the street, the lolly in her mouth, a smile on her face and the sun rising in the distance.

The door bell rang. It was too late to be anyone that she knew. But yet, she felt inclined to see who was so interested in coming to her house at such an hour. She slowly stumbled to the door and peeked out of the window. She realized she didn't know who it was, but what harm can come from opening the door? She turned the lock and slowly opened the door to find out what the stranger was searching for. Before the door was even completely open, she realized she had made the wrong decision. The stranger pulled the trigger. And just like that, the world was filled with one less soul.