Guilty

by Mary Ann Moody

“All rise,” the bailiff shouted, “Criminal court of Williamson is now in order with the honorable Markus Redker presiding.”

An older African American gentleman with white hair entered the plain and small court room. He wore a silky black robe and shifted it accordingly when he sat down. Judge Redker pulled his chair closer to the desk, made sure the gavel was within arm’s reach, and said to a tightly packed court room, “You may be seated. Let’s begin todays agenda. We shall start with the State versus Casey. It is my understanding that the jury has reached a verdict. Is that accurate, Miss. Chairwoman?”

A voluptuous blonde wearing a bright blue skirt suit stood up and grimly replied, “We have, your honor.”

“What say you?”

“Your honor, we the jury find Steven Casey guilty of murder in the first degree,” she announced without emotion.

“As you are instructed,” He picked up the gavel and held it over the wide wooden base. “It is the duty of this court to find you guilty, Mr. Casey. Would you like to address the court before we reveal your Justice?”

“I would, your honor,” said a tall blonde boy with black oval glasses. He spoke with a lisp and every few seconds, his right shoulder jerked backwards. His face was clean, empty of acne and youth. Arrested at the age of fourteen for the murder of his little brother, Steven was now a man standing trial. Facing his Justice. “I loved my little brother. You know him as Gregory, but he was just Greg to me. He was only twelve when someone broke into our house and killed him. That person wasn’t me. I swear it! Your duty was to find me guilty, for that, I forgive you. Greg’s gone but I can go home to my family. We won’t know who killed him but Justice will be served in my case. Thank you for letting me speak.”

“I sentence you to Justice, Mr. Casey.”

Everyone in the court room took a deep breath of anticipation as Steven Casey was led to the right side of the courtroom where a large rectangle Cherrywood box stood upwards. It resembled a phone booth with glass panes covering a retractable door and fit only one person at a time. In large gold letters, the word JUSTICE was printed at the top of the booth. The judge, jury, and Steven’s family took a deep breath as they waited for a sign. While they waited, Steven trembled with excitement. He’d waited five years for this moment.

Almost two minutes later, the court was still waiting. Judge Redker motioned for the bailiff, who grabbed Stevens’ wrists and unlocked the handcuffs. In one instant, he was free. He could go home, eat at a restaurant, find a woman, or just take a bath. At the moment, he wanted to hug his mother.

“Per Section 2A4 of the New Constitution, Steven Casey, you are innocent and free to leave. If you’re unsure what to do now, please see the information desk outside. They can give you another pamphlet. The case of the State versus Mr. Steven Casey is now closed. Next!”

Out the doors went Steven and his parents, through them came Nadia Reign. She was a twenty-six-year-old knockout accused of murdering her husband. The bailiff was an older man but he was strong and held on tightly to her as she squirmed on the way up to the defense table. When the new Constitution was written, lawyers were abolished so she stood alone while the new jury entered the room. The accused trembled with fear and bit her lower lip in anticipation of Justice.

“This case is the State versus Reign. Let’s begin. It is my understanding that the jury has reached a verdict. Is that accurate, Mr. Chairman?” Judge Redkar asked the jury.

An Asian gentleman with a thick black mustache and dark eyes answered, “Yes, your honor.”

“What say you?”

“Your honor, we the jury find Nadia Reign guilty of murder in the first degree.”

“As you are instructed. It is the duty of this court to find you guilty, Mrs. Reign. Would you like to address the court before your Justice is revealed?”

“Yes,” she shouted and took a deep breath. “I didn’t kill my husband! I loved him. I still love him. But all this won’t bring him back. You can accuse me, take me to court, make face Justice, but it won’t bring him back! Nothing will change.”

“I sentence you to Justice, Mrs. Reign.” Judge Redkar smacked his gavel hard on the desk.

She resisted the bailiff when he placed her in front of the box, but she wasn’t strong enough to stop Justice. When she stood on the correct spot, the box lit up with a powerful white light and the bailiff let go of her arms. Inside the box, a tall shadowy figure emerged from the light. Nadia screamed with terror at the sight of the man who beat her and their children for years. Ten seconds later, the light was gone and inside the box stood the body of Lewis Reign, Nadias’ husband, alive and well.

Judge Redkar slammed down the gavel. “Mrs. Reign, you are found fully guilty of murdering Mr. Lewis Reign. You are sentenced. Bailiff, please escort her out. Will the family of Mr. Reign come forth to make claim? If you’re unsure what to do now, please see the information desk outside. They can give you another pamphlet. The case of The State of Williamson vs. Mrs. Nadia Reign is now closed.”

Before the bailiff could reach her, Nadia threw herself at the base of the podium serving as the judges’ desk. She begged him to show her mercy. Large tears fell from her eyes and she watched with amazement when Lewis was removed from the box by his father. She may have dismembered him, but Lewis was brought back to life by Justice. Nadia refused to fight when the bailiff opened the exit to the courtroom and tossed her into the abyss.

“Next!”

The End

Reckoning: The Firefly Trilogy Book 1

Free sample from my new book, Reckoning:

After they clawed out of the fires below, the Tavishaw family stood in a circle in front of our group. It was a family reunion for the Tavishaws, Kaylee, Borlock, Maxine, and their parents. The moment I saw Miss Maxine, I cowered behind Jacob. Sarah stood by her brothers and Via. My concern went to Sarah, who feared Maxine more than any person in this realm. The look on Steven’s face told me he was about to faint from fear. He rounded his spine, and slithered behind William and Henry. Their guns drawn, as well as their men, but all of us were too dumbfounded to do anything. We helplessly watched as Kaylee’s father congratulated his son.
“You have made your family proud, son,” said Kaylee’s father.
“Thank you, father,” Kaylee said as he bowed his head.
“Tonight, we shall have a ceremony to crown the new King.”
“I have resurrected!” Maxine screamed into the sky and spun around with her arms extended to their fullest. “I’m free!”
Borlock was merely feet away from Charles Slider. An evil sneer settled on his face. While Kaylee spoke to his father, Borlock grabbed Charles by the throat. Borlock looked deep into the old mans’ eyes and waved his hand in front of Charles’s face. A purple mist emanated from Borlock’s hand and saturated Charles’ body. When the mist evaporated, it left behind a young Charles Slider. The old judge had been replaced by a new, vivacious young man. Borlock salivated as he brought Charles closer him. He practically spit in his face as he hissed, “I won’t kill you…today. We rule the world, again, and we need slaves. Guess who I chose?”
With a wave of his hand, a metal choker suddenly appeared around Charles’ neck. A chain was attached to it and at the other end of the chain was Borlock. He struck Charles’s shoulder like a snake and bit into his newly renewed flesh. Charles screamed with agony while Borlock ripped off a piece of his shoulder and ate it. A satisfied smile sat on Borlocks’ lips while he watched the pain he caused Charles and sat back to enjoy his snack. Blood ran from his mouth as Borlock laughed like a madman. On the ground, Charles writhed with pain, keeping his hand on covering the bite wound. Without realizing it, I emerged from behind Jacob but he held me back, refusing to let me interfere. We watched helplessly as Borlock sat on top of Charles to lick the blood from his fingertips as if he wanted to savor every morsel of a wonderful meal.
“Do save some of him for later, Borlock. Remember, if you eat too much of him, even magic cannot repair him,” Kaylee said as if the situation bored him.
Maxine giggled gleefully. “Oh, I want one, too! I pick her,” she screamed and pointed at Sarah. Instantly, a metal collar magically appeared around my cousins’ neck.
“No!” I shouted.
“You’re not taking my sister anywhere, bitch,” William said as he aimed his gun at Maxine. The rest of his friends followed his lead and focused their weapons at Maxine. Jacob puffed out his chest and stepped up to show Maxine he was there defend Sarah at all costs. Maxine laughed at them and waved her hand. A powerful, unseen hand twisted the barrels of their guns upwards, making them worthless. The men stared at the guns with shock. Jacob, and the rest of them, were surrounded by a large ball of purple mist. It hugged their bodies and kept them from moving.
She turned to me with a wide, wicked smile on her face. “And who’s going to stop me? You? Your army?” She laughed at us as if she knew something we didn’t. “I am Maxine Tavishaw, bitch. I am more powerful than anyone in this world! You will not disobey me or I will roast your souls in the fires of Hell!”
I looked to Kaylee, hoping he would intervene, but appeared as if he were bored with our protests. If he refused to interfere, then it was up to me. I pulled away from Jacobs’ grasp and shouted, “Maxine, you cannot have Sarah.”
“Oh, yes I can. Right, Kaylee?” she asked my newfound father with a smile on her face.
He shrugged his shoulders. “Sure. My daughter is safe and we have repatriated. I don’t need her anymore.”
Maxine smiled at me with a smug face and yanked on Sarah’s chain to show her dominance over me. “I don’t care what Kaylee says, it’s what I say that matters,” I stressed the word I. “And I say Sarah stays with me.”
My aunt smiled at me and grabbed a handful of my hair, bringing my face to hers. I struggled to free myself from her grasp, but she held on to me as if she had an iron fist. “Charles banished me back to Hell after what I did to you and your little cousin at the Academy. I don’t know how he found out, but he did. All because of you. I’ve waited for this moment…to see the look on your face when I take your beloved cousin from you. I thought about taking Jacob, but I knew it would sting if I took the beautiful blonde. Say goodbye to Sarah.”
Finally, my instincts kicked in, as well as the training supplied by Via. I didn’t care if she held onto my hair, I ignored the pain when I ripped my head away, allowing a good chunk of my hair to be pulled out in the process. I spun around quickly to back kick Maxine in her stomach. Thank goodness Via had me kicking a tree for weeks. My leg was strong and delivered a powerful kick. Maxine stumbled backwards, but her chest fell forward. Her shouts of obscenities were so loud, they could be heard from the other side of the world. Before she could retaliate, I leapt forward, and punched her in the face with my right hand, but she anticipated my move, and blocked my arm. However, Via taught me to punch with my left and right hand. While Maxine was busy holding onto my right arm, I used my left to deliver a hard punch to the right side of her face.
She stumbled backwards, but managed to keep herself steady on her feet. The left side of her mouth curled up in the form a sneer, the way a dog curled its lip when it’s ready to strike. I knew she was going to come at me with everything she had, so I used this moment to punch her right in the nose. It was a sweet moment to return to Maxine what she did to me at the Academy.
Something else happened at that moment. Blood fell from Maxine’s nose. In fact, it erupted the way lava erupts from a volcano. Everyone, including my family, stood in shock while they watched Maxine discover the blood.
“I’m…I’m…bleeding,” Maxine stammered and backed away from me as if she were actually frightened of me.
Then it hit me; Maxine was now living in a body that can be killed.
I reached back, grabbed the handle of my Magnum handgun. The handle fit perfectly in my hand as I wrapped my fingers over it. I never took my eyes off Maxine as I took out the gun, pulled back the hammer in the process, and pointed it straight at her head. The fear in her eyes told me she was afraid and desperate. Her magic may have been able to disfigure the guns of Henry, William, and the rest of the men, but not mine. I was a Tavishaw and just as powerful as she. Her powers did not work well on her own blood. It was time to deliver some redemption.
Before I pulled the trigger, Maxine yanked on the chain and pulled Sarah to her chest. In an instant, a purple mist erupted from the ground below them and covered them from head to toe. Via lunged for Sarah in a final attempt to save her. The purple mist swallowed Via whole as she dived into it. When it dissipated, Maxine, Sarah, and Via were gone.
“Sarah! Via!” I screamed into the air.
“Anna!” Kaylee shouted at me. “Come.”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Come with your family, where you belong.”
“I…I belong with my husband.”
“You’re my daughter. Your allegiance belongs to me.”
“I’m not going with you, Kaylee. I’d rather die than stand by your side,” I spat.
He chuckled. “Perhaps you misunderstood me, this is not a choice, my darling.”
In an instant, I pointed my gun right at him and his body burst into a cloud of purple smoke and floated away. The remaining Tavishaw family followed suite and evaporated into smoke. We watched the wind carry them away from us, making it impossible to follow them.
I had made a huge mistake. Rei said I would let evil out of its cage and I did. How could I have been so stupid? I had to fix my mistake. I had to make things right with the Universe. To do that, I had to put my family back in Hell. It wouldn’t be an easy task. My family was not a bunch of knick-knacks that could be easily placed on a shelf. As I thought about Sarah forced to be Maxine’s slave, anger flooded my body. I allowed it to seep into my blood and fill my every thought with genuine revenge. I was going to save all of them, even Charles Slider. I owed it to him after what I did. He was the peacekeeper of our lands and my view had been skewed to portray him as my enemy. I vowed to hunt down every member of my family and send them right back to Hell where they belonged.

Scribble

Scribble

Written and Created By: Mary Ann Moody

A knock came at the front door of Jane’s apartment.

“Peter?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he replied.

She unlocked the door and opened it for him. “Thanks for coming.”

“Did it record?”

“I checked my laptop this morning. There’s over eight hours of footage.”

“And the writing on the wall?”

She nodded her head. “It was there, too.”

“Did you wash it away?” Peter pushed himself into the apartment.

“No. I left it just as you instructed,” she said and turned to follow.

In the only bedroom, she found Peter staring at the far wall where the bed resided, rubbing his fashionable black beard. His small mouth and black eyes were wide open with intrigue. His hands trembled like an earthquake when he reached for his cell phone and voice recorder. Goosebumps on his neck and face were visible to Jane from a distance.

“Tell me again when this happens to you.” He pressed record on the recorder and took pictures.

Above Janes’ headboard, black marker streaks were scribbled on the wall. The laptops’ camera focused on that portion of the room. The bedroom was small but it had a window. There was enough space for a bed, nightstand, and vanity table. There was a closet to the right of Jane’s bed, but it was the size of a school locker and too tiny to be useable so it was kept it empty. He sat down on the matching vanity chair while Jane literally sat on the edge of her bed.

“Um, well, like I said before, when I woke up yesterday…I…saw this on my wall. Um, I washed it off…but it was here this morning,” she shuddered as she recalled her story.

“Interesting. Go on.”

“There’s nothing else to say except it scared the hell out of me, so I called you. I did as you suggested. Last night, I programmed my laptop to record me while I slept, but I haven’t watched it yet. Um, you don’t think I brought something back with me? Do you?”

“No, no one else from the group is experiencing phenomena,” Peter smiled as he scoffed. “Let’s watch the video and see what’s happening at night.”

“We’re not sitting here and watching this for eight hours? Are we?” she asked.

“Of course not. I’ll fast forward to the good part,” he said as he took out a pen and laptop. “Why don’t you upload the images I took of the scribble and image reverse them on the web?”

She took his laptop and phone and set up a workplace right beside him. They stayed silent while they worked. An hour later, Peter grasped her shoulder.

“Jane,” he gasped.

“Did you get to the good part?” she joked.

“It’s you,” he whispered.

“What?”

“It’s you. You’re the one writing on the wall.”

She practically pushed Peter aside to look at the screen. “What are you talking about?”

“Just watch,” he instructed and pressed play.

The video recorded in high definition but with a special night vision lens. Everything in the video was either black or green, however, Jane distinctly recognized herself. In the video, her eyes gleamed fiercely, without blinking, as she staggered to the wall. A long football jersey hung from her shoulders and swayed gently when she walked. A black marker was in her hand.

“Oh, my Goddess. That is me,” she said as she watched herself scribble on the walls furiously. Jane heard herself grunt periodically with frustration when the marker fell from her fingertips. Peter’s computer dinged, indicating a new message. “Peter? I just got a hit on the image reversal in a chat room. According to this poster, the words are Vedic Sanskrit. The words…they mean ‘I’m in the closet’.”

Just then, a noise came from the other side of the room. Jane screamed and grabbed onto Peter’s arm.

“Ah! What was that?”

“It came from the closet,” Peter replied, his voice squeaked like boy going through puberty.

“There’s nothing in there,” she whispered.

“Well, something is.”

She motioned for Peter to open the door. At first, he hesitated. Jane silently mouthed for him to be a man and open the door. At that point, poor Peter felt like he had no other option. He grabbed the doorknob tightly, yanked it open, and looked inside.

“There’s no one in here, but there’s more scribbling.” He turned to look at Jane, but she pushed him into the closet and shut the door behind him. The sound of a lock snapping into place made goosebumps explode over every inch of his body. His head hit the wall with a hard smack, but he didn’t fall to the floor. The closet was too small to do anything but stand upright, like a coffin.

“Jane?” he called.

“Jane’s not here anymore,” her voice hissed with an eerie calmness through the crack in the door. “She left the day you and your ghost hunting team came to investigate my mansion. Her body is now mine.”

“Who are you? Why are you doing this to us?” he asked.

“Just a woman longing to be reunited with her husband. My husband. John Lee Davasgol.”

“The Butcher of Wilpasco?”

“We need bodies if we are to live again. The so-called scribble in there is a spell to bind your body with Johns’ spirit.”

“Wh…wh…what?” Peter took out his cell phone and activated the screen light. The tiny closet lit up, revealing the red scribble. Something shifted to his left. He spun to confront the darkness, but there was no one there. At least, no one he could see.

The sound of Janes’ voice cracking with emotion was the last thing he heard. “My love will never die for you, John.”

Peter reached into the depths of his stomach and pulled out a terrifying scream as his body and Johns’ spirit became one.

Family

By Mary Ann Moody

   In an older country home, a thirtysomething man trembled when a sudden noise disturbed his concentration. The wife and children were out. He believed himself to be alone. They lived in a single story, four bedroom, two thousand square foot home. The décor was out of date with dark wood paneling on the walls and red carpet on the floor, but dammit, it was his home and he liked it just the way it was. He got up from a cozy sofa chair and proceeded to walk into the hallway connecting the bedrooms. He flipped on the light as he rounded the corner.

He peaked into the bedrooms. Everything appeared in order, even when he took a closer look. Once he felt satisfied with the inspection, he returned to the wonderful sofa chair. He wondered when his family would return. It was terribly dark outside and he hoped they were safe.

Just as he propped his feet up, something fell in one of the bedrooms. It hit the carpet with a hard clunk.

The man jumped from unexpected noise. Goosebumps ran over his arms and a wave of terror started at his toes and ended at his face. The home seemed to betray him by harboring sinister secrets. Slowly, he got up from the chair.

   Where did I place my gun? he wondered.

He felt a presence watching him as he picked up a small pistol from the coffee table. The unmistakable feeling of someone breathing on his neck made the hairs on his head stand up and he spun around, waving the gun in the air. He faced the kitchen and found it empty. Small beads of sweat fell from his forehead as he focused on the large space. The family room connected to a red kitchen with an island and small breakfast nook. Despite the intense feeling someone watched him, the rooms were empty.

Clunk.

He spun to the hallway and aimed at the darkness. To him, it sounded like something fell in the closet, but that was impossible. He swore he placed everything back where he found it. Outside, snow fell from the sky, covering the house and foliage with layers of ice. He hadn’t prepared a fire but gave it a second thought as he crept down the chilly hall. A bright lightbulb blazed in its socket and gave him plenty of light, the downside were the shadows it created. He mistook the bookshelf in eight-year-old Maria’s room for a monster with white fangs. At first glance, the chair beside six-year-old Garrison’s bed appeared as a head poking up. When his eyes adjusted to the light, he let out a breath of relief.

He had to know if he was truly alone and decided to check the closet inside the master bedroom. He gripped the handle of the gun firmly and took a deep breath before opening the closet. He focused on the darkness as he opened the door and kept his hearing sharp when he reached up to pull the light cord.

In front of him, the light revealed the corpse of the man who owned the house, Doug. Blood leaked from sections of the duct tape covering his mouth and nose. Doug’s eyes bulged outwards and his mouth was open despite the tape. The corpse remained tucked away underneath the hanging clothes. Once again, he determined Doug was dead, so he couldn’t be the one making all those noises.

Just then, a cluster of excited voices emanated from the somewhere outside the house. He closed the closet door. Doug’s family now belonged to him. He smiled and waited in the darkness to greet them.

 

The End

Nightmares

When I dream, I normally have nightmares. Perhaps it’s one of the drawbacks of being a horror movie junkie, but this week has been particularly brutal.

The first dream, I was running from a serial killer who only killed people who were awake in the house. My husband and children were safe because they were asleep, however, I was awake in this dream and the killer continually came after me. The dream seemed so real. I swear I could smell the grass when I ran from him. I felt pain in my leg when I landed after a fall.

The next dream, a snake bit into my stomach. Its fangs were stuck in my stomach and the rest of its body writhed as it tried to dislodge from my skin. I swear I could literally the snake’s body flailing back and forth, as well as pain in my stomach from where it bit me. It seemed so real that I sat up in bed thinking I had a snake attached to me.

I’m scared to go to sleep tonight.

New Book

I have set a publishing date for my new book, Murder by Alpha. It’s exciting to prep for a new publication and send it out there for the world to judge.

Back to basics

Two weeks ago, I had surgery. In the time I spent recovering, l have been working on my 6th book. It has been nice going back to spending my every waking hour working on Reckoning and getting that wonderful rush when I pull up my manuscript after going to sleep for the night.

It’s going to be hard going back to weekly live streams, making videos, and searching for American Horror Story season 7 news. I love making videos, but I belong in the closet writing my novels.

Back to the Writing Board

For me, there’s nothing better than pulling up my novel in progress and working on that baby. Ahhhh, I’ve missed it so much.

American Horror Story Fucked My Writing Life

It’s so true. Before American Horror Story Season 6, my life was nothing but writing novels, playing in the sun with my kids, and reading books. Now, I try to complete novels while track of all American Horror Story news and putting it out there for everyone to know. I miss those long nights of burning the writing midnight oil in my closet working on a chapter while music played in the background. Where oh where did those days go? I finished Murder by Alpha while working on my channel, however, I miss obsessing over storylines, character developments, plot twists, dialogue, and crying when I kill a character off.

My creative longing is deep.

Chelsey

Written and Created By: Mary Ann Moody

For Chelsey

Someone’s in the house! Chelsey thought as she stared silently at her closed laptop. She left it open before she went downstairs. The silence inside the large two story house penetrated her mind, and made her body jump at the tiniest noise. There could only be one explanation why the laptop was closed. Someone closed it.

Chelsey lunged for the bedroom door. The idea someone was hiding in the house literally chased her through the hallway, and down the stairs. The silence scared Chelsey more than anything. Absent from the house were the ordinary home noises, a toilet running, the house settling, noise from the neighbors, a dripping faucet. Chelsey heard none of it. It made her feel as if she had been swallowed alive by her own home.

A door slammed shut somewhere on the second floor when she was halfway down the stairs. Chelsey screamed bloody murder and ran out of the house, forgetting her keys and cell phone. She stopped in the driveway to consider her options before running blindly into the quiet street. For one brief moment, Chelsey reconsidered what had actually happened. Maybe she was acting irrational? However, the thought of going back into her own house scared her. She went to her neighbor’s home, knocked on the door, and begged them to call for help.

The police arrived shortly afterwards, as did her husband, Steven. After Chelsey explained why she thought someone was in the house, the police and Steven searched their house from top to bottom. At Chelsey’s request, the officers specifically searched the attic. Steven assisted the officers with pulling the insulation out of the floors of the attic to make sure no one hid underneath. All searching came up empty.

“Maybe the perpetrator left after you escaped the house?” A young male officer suggested kindly to Chelsey afterwards.

“I guess so.” Chelsey relented.

“There’s no one here now. We searched every inch. We’ll have officers drive by every once in a while tonight, just to be sure everything’s okay. Your husband went through the house. Said nothing was taken, but we dusted your laptop for fingerprints since you said the perpetrator touched it. The person might’ve been wearing gloves, but we dusted it just in case. I’ll let you know if we turn up anything there.”

“Thank you, officer. I’m sorry I bothered you.” Chelsey said to Officer D. Rank, and his partner C. Greenwood, as written on their badges. The assisting officers left once the house was cleared.

“No worries, mam. That’s what we’re here for. You have my number, and my partner’s. Call us if you hear or see anything suspicious, we’ll be here to check it out. And we’re on duty tonight, so that number will route straight to our patrol car. We can be here in mere minutes.”

Steven put his arm around her as they watched the officers drive away. He felt the tension in her shoulders. Hopefully, this was something Chelsey would get over quickly, but he felt irritatingly wrong. “Ready to go inside?”

“Not yet. It’s a nice day out.”

He took a deep breath to control his patience. “There’s no one in there, Chelsey. The police made sure of it. Besides, I’m home now. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“I just ….don’t want to go back in there. It still feels as if ….someone’s in the house.”

“Are you telling me it’s haunted?” Steven scoffed.

“No. I don’t think it’s haunted, but something is wrong in there. Remember a few days ago, when I told you I thought someone watching us while we slept? I think someone’s in there, with us.”

“That’s ridiculous! The police just searched the house! Are you freaking crazy?” Steven shouted, but regretted it the moment the words left his mouth. He took a deep breath, and said, “I’m sorry. I’m really ….sorry Chelsey. I didn’t mean that. I just ….I’m confused, tired. I wanna take a shower and go to bed.”

“Then you do that. I’m going to a hotel.”

“Oh, come on Chelsey! Are you really going to leave me here, without a car, no food, and go to a hotel? You can’t be serious!”

“I’m not staying here tonight.” She declared.

“Okay, just listen to me for a second. Just listen to me.” He took a deep breath, and started over with a rational tone. “Even if we go to a hotel, we’ll still have to come back to the house. It’s inevitable. Babe, this is our house. It’s where we’re going to bring our kids home from the hospital. We’ve made so many memories here ….I don’t wanna throw all that away simply because you suddenly have the urge to do so-”

“That’s not what I’m doing, Steven. There’s someone in our house. I’m not crazy. I’m just trying to protect you!” Tears fell from Chelsey’s eyes. “I don’t think I could live if something happened to you.”

Steven hugged Chelsey to him. He smiled at her, and kissed her neck gently. He whispered, “Back at ya, babe. I’m sorry. I completely screwed up and said the wrong thing. If you want to go to a hotel tonight, I’ll come with you.”

Chelsey squeezed her eyes closed, and cried harder. Moments like these showed her how much Steven truly loved her. It made her feel guilty for placing her fears in front of the needs of her family. She wiped away her tears, and straightened her spine. “No. You’re right. The police searched. Even they said there’s no one in the house. I guess ….I’m being selfishly scared.” She chucked to relieve the tension in her body. “We can stay.”

Chelsey lied through her teeth, but she felt silly over calling the police and getting so worked up over a closed laptop. But one tiny piece of her brain reminded her, she didn’t close the laptop or slam the door. She forced the thought away. She had confidence in herself. She would be safe.

Steven made dinner in the kitchen while Chelsey worked on her novel. They made conversation about Steven’s day, trying to be ordinary people locked in an ordinary day. For Chelsey, it worked. After they ate dinner, she went upstairs into her office to work on her book. The day’s events were lost. The music played, and she was doing what she loved.

Twenty minutes later, Steven walked into Chelsey’s office to check on her. He smiled when he saw Chelsey typing rapidly on her computer. “Hey babe. Coming to bed?”

“In a minute. I want to finish this scene.”

“Okay. I’ll leave our door open. Just holler if you need me.”

“Thanks. Nite babe.”

Chelsey worked on her novel until her eyes started to close. She must’ve fallen asleep at one point because her forehead smacked the keyboard. “Ouch.” She muttered as she rubbed her head. Only the light from the outside street lamp, and her computer screen, kept the room from total darkness.

Right as she clicked on the menu to shut down the laptop, Chelsey heard a scratching sound. She spun around in her chair to see if the source was Steven, but he wasn’t standing in the doorway. Before she could wonder about the noise, a piece of carpet near the door rose up from the floor. Her eyes widened, and she held her breath as a flash of heat started at her toes and rushed into her face. Panic made her limbs turn into rubber. She felt paralyzed with fright as the sound of the carpet flopping backwards reached her ears.

Then it hit her. Between the ceiling of the garage, and the floorboards of her office, there was a crawlspace. Chelsey nor Steven had been in there, even when they bought the house. The previous owner used it for storage, and it was the one place Chelsey didn’t ask the police to search. She heard something shift in the dark. The sounds of a second breath in the room forced her to panic. Her heart beat so fast and furious, it echoed through her body, and pounded in her ears. The will to scream or move was lost to Chelsey. Once her eyes adjusted to low light, she saw it.

It was a creature with brown scales for skin, and large horns protruding from its head. Big red eyes filled with a mixture of interest and malice shined brightly in the light. It watched her, never allowing Chelsey to break eye contact. Large globs of drool fell from the creature’s long, sharp teeth. It sat on its rear haunches, waiting patiently for the right moment to strike. Chelsey jumped up from her chair. At least, she tried to get up. Sitting in the chair for such a long period of time made her legs numb, and she fell straight to the ground the moment she stood up. As soon as she was on the floor, it pounced on top her. Chelsey finally found her voice and screamed before it clasped its hands tightly around her throat. She tried to punch and kick it off of her, but the creature painfully dug its knees into her chest. Chelsey didn’t give up. She used all of the strength she could muster to fight it, but the creature was much stronger. If only she could take a breath.

The creature threw its head back, laughing with glee when Chelsey’s body went limp. She stopped struggling, and her lips turned blue. But the laughter emanating from the creature didn’t sound demonic. In fact, it was high pitched and feminine. Like a woman’s laughter.

Monica Cartonie breathed heavily under the monster mask. She knew strangling someone wasn’t as easy as it was in the movies, but man, this took work. She watched Chelsey for a few seconds to make sure she was dead.

“Is she dead?” Steven asked from the doorway.

Monica removed the mask from her sweaty face, and said, “Yeah. She’s dead.”

“Then we better get started.”

“Yeah, we should.”

“I’ll go get the curtain, we can drag her down the stairs easier with it.” Steven said. He reached for Monica to kiss her deeply. They clung to each other in a passionate embrace.

“I’ll help you, lover.” She giggled as she took off the rest of the monster costume and dropped it on the floor near Chelsey’s body.

They left to grab a plastic shower curtain to place Chelsey’s body in. Steven said the shower curtain from the guest bathroom would work best. Together, they laughed in the hallway at the fact that their plan had worked. No messy divorce, a huge insurance payment from Chelsey’s life insurance, and Steven would finally be with the woman he truly loved.

“Let’s get this over with.” Steven said.

They went into the office. The light had gone out. Steven flipped the switch on and off, and finally, it came on. The light exploded into the big room, temporarily blinding them. When Steven could see, he saw the monster suit standing upright in the room as if someone were wearing it.

“What the hell?” He muttered just as the light went out.

The closet door creaked opened slowly, and spilled light into the room. A tall dark shape stood in the closet, projecting its shadow across the carpet. Steven held his breath when he realized Chelsey’s body was gone. They watched in horror as Chelsey staggered out of the closet to stand beside the monster. Gradually, Chelsey turned her head reveal her white face, and silver eyes boiling with a burning malevolence.

“Kill them.” She whispered to the demon, and pointed at Steven and Monica.

Chelsey’s ghost listened to the bloodcurdling screams of Monica and Steven as the monster tore them apart.

The End