The house nestles in an abyss of darkness, an unsettling silence gripping the cozy two-story American Craftsman style home—such a stark contrast from just four hours earlier.
Zoe huddles within her cluttered bedroom closet, surrounded by clothing and forgotten stuffed animals. Struggling to control her breath, she remains uncertain if the threat still lingers.
“I need to leave this place,” she thinks to herself, her mind racing. “It’s been quiet for over an hour now.”
As she shifts forward, papers crinkle beneath her. Abruptly, she halts, her head swiveling right as she peers through the narrow crack, struggling to discern anything within the dim light cast by the gray moon.
Gently, she eases her fingers between the closet doors, pulling them open with delicate care. A soft, hushed squeak accompanies the movement, and Zoe freezes once more. Her breath quickens as her gaze flits across the room, briefly lingering on a faint bluish light near her bed. She quickly dismisses it, attributing it to the glow of her laptop.
Focusing on the crack, she whispers, “I think I can slip through that,” but her confidence wavers.
Zoe blinks back tears, gathering her resolve. She runs her fingers through her shoulder-length hair before tying it up in a messy bun. Slowly rising to her feet, she peeks out of the door, ensuring the coast is clear. It is. Gradually, she maneuvers her way out of the closet, finally able to take in the suffocating darkness and silence of the room. Standing in the void, she senses a metallic scent.
“Iron,” she murmurs, her thoughts supplying the word “blood.”
A bead of sweat rolls down her face as chills course down her spine. Slipping off her shoes, she treads lightly on the wooden floor, her feet cold and bare. Turning toward the door, she takes measured steps, her fingers curling around the doorknob. Inhaling deeply, she exhales silently as the door swings open without a creak.
Zoe steadies herself, allowing a few moments to pass before leaning forward and peeking her head out into the hallway. She scans right, then left. Her siblings’ rooms stand open, while a faint, flickering light emanates from her youngest brother’s room.
Dread tightens around her heart. “No, not Braden,” she murmurs, her voice audibly trembling. Panic swells within her, urging her into action. She races forward, nearly slipping on the wet floor, oblivious to the blood pooling around her. In an almost comical yet grim manner, she tumbles and lands, swallowed once again by the darkness.
Amidst the giggles of children, Zoe rouses herself, immediately aware of the throbbing headache. She raises her hands to her head, as if to hold her pain in check. The surroundings gradually come into focus, revealing the ceiling above. She blinks up at it before her attention shifts to the blood on her arm. Memories rush back, overwhelming her.
“NO!”
Struggling to stand, she slips, fighting for traction. Leaning against the hallway wall, her breath erratic, Zoe’s eyes dart around, shifting from blood to the hallway and back again.
“Brenden, are you okay?!” Her gaze locks onto the room directly ahead. In mere moments, she understands where the blood comes from.
Before her stands her middle brother’s room, the scene resembling chaos followed by a deluge of gore. Determined not to fixate on one spot for too long, Zoe’s stomach churns, her pain mingling with the horrific violence she has witnessed.
Forcing herself to steady her breathing, Zoe retreats from the room, barely avoiding another fall. She sprints the short distance to Braden’s room, almost sliding past it due to the blood-soaked floor. Gathering her courage, she peers into the room.
What she witnesses defies description. Her complexion drains, her palms grow clammy, and her knees weaken. Tears stream down her face as she gazes upon the brutality inflicted upon her youngest brother.
Retreating with faltering steps, Zoe’s body seems to move on its own, propelling her backward until she crashes down the stairs, the third tumble accompanied by the sound and sensation of her forearm breaking.
Amidst the agony of her head and arm, Zoe awakens from sleep, her heart pounding. Tears mix with sweat as she sits up, her voice quivering.
“Mom! Mom!” Zoe’s voice cracks, desperation evident. “Please, I’m hurt badly, and Braden…”
Pain and fear overpower her, drowning her in a sea of emotions. Her arm and head throb as she cries out for help, her pleas echoing in the darkness.
Through her agony, she becomes aware of the bone jutting through her skin, the metallic tang of blood in her mouth. Gathering herself despite the pain, she rises, slumping against the wall for support. Gradually, she moves toward the kitchen, seeking her parents. The rooms yield no sign of them.
“Mom… Dad?” Zoe’s voice trembles as confusion takes hold. Stepping into their room, she gazes at their untouched belongings. Panic rises within her, and she retreats, her eyes fixed on the faint blue light in the living room.
“Mooom!” Excitement punctuates her voice as she rushes forward, hope igniting. Her optimism shatters as she takes in the sight before her.
Zoe’s mother’s scalp rests atop the couch, while her father’s arm reclines on his favorite chair. Their bodies are nowhere to be found.
“No, no, no! Mom, Dad, how…?” Her voice quivers as tears continue to fall. A broken arm punctuates her physical pain, and she curls into herself, whispering, “I want my mommy.”
Zoe sobs until exhaustion quiets her. Gazing at her broken arm and swollen eye, she forces herself to stand. Slumping against the wall, she surveys her surroundings, her gaze encompassing the hallway and garage door.
Moving with aching steps, she inches closer to the garage. A figure emerges from the darkness, its head scraping the ceiling. Zoe shivers as the cold envelops her, her breath forming puffs of frost.
She gazes up at it, her voice barely audible. “What are you?”
Silence stretches before the entity’s shadowy head tilts, its deep blue eyes flickering like a blink. Its gravelly voice echoes through the air.
“Evil.”
[Later]
On the TV, the news returns from a commercial break.
“Good evening, I’m Loyd Bennett and this is Channel 7 News, Thank you for joining us.
We have tragic news from Fairmount, South Dakota. A family of four has been brutally murdered, with their daughter now missing and in danger. Local authorities confirm she is not a suspect.
Evil has come home.”