Nightmares, Edited, Continued, Altered, and Lengthened

Note: DaBeaut - pronounced DeBut
Crros - not a spelling error

Nightmares

Introduction

Everybody has their story, its just that mine is a little… well, different.

Part 1

When I was a little girl I had a very normal family. My Mom took care of the house and me. And my Dad worked as a car salesman. Life was typical, average, easy, and quiet. I went to normal schools, and lived a normal life. That was that it was so normal I thought it boring. My friends and I sometimes went to the movies, the beach, school, etc. But when I got home, it was always the same, and even though people were living there, it was almost as if the house, and the people in it were dead.
My Mom and Dad trusted me as much as they trusted any teenage daughter. In other words, not much. To me the house was a cage; a cage that was filled with too many pillows. At the time, little did I know that a simple walk down the street with my Mom and Dad would scar me for the rest of my life.

Part 2

My neighborhood was clean and neat, sometimes I though too much so. There were lots of birds, and enough trees to make you want to scream during a hurricane.
On one of those typical August afternoons, you know, hazy, hot and humid, chance of thundershowers… My Mom, Dad, and I went for a walk, which was unusual for us. We had never gone walking before, at least as far as I could remember. My parents weren’t exactly outdoorsy folks. When we were a block or two away from home, and near the tire swing where I used to play, we saw a man sitting there. He looked like he could have been homeless, that was except for a fancy black car and driver that was waiting for him.
His hair was a little to long to be cute, but no quite long enough to pull back. His face was young, but he looked worn and tired, as if he hadn’t really slept in days. But he was probably no more than twenty-five.
When we passed he gave us a nod, smiled, and waved at us. The weird part was that he winked at my parents. They waved back friendly as ever.
“Who is that guy?” I thought to myself. But he just sat there on the tire swing, and we kept on walking.
I later wrote of the incident as coincidence. People were always mistaking my Dad for some computer person, whose name I can never remember.
The next day continued on a usual except for the walk we went on again.
“Hey Mom, why are we going on another walk?”
“Oh, just to look at the trees honey.”
After that answer I couldn’t help but think that there was more to it than that. Granted, there were a lot of trees in our neighborhood, but seriously how much of that is scenic? Not much. Especially when my Mom grew up here.
When we got to the tire swing, that same guy was there again. He was looking our way, and just plain staring at me. Even when we passed him, and my parents were between him and me, I could feel him looking through them and leaving scorch marks on the back of my favorite t-shirt.
That night around 11, there was a knock at my door. Very unusual. My parents had already gone to bed, but I was awake and reading. I couldn’t sleep because I had had a gruesome nightmare. When I heard the knocking I turned my light off. I hoped that they would think everyone was asleep, and would just leave. Not so much. I slid back in bed, and waited listening, with my heart pounding. But the knocking didn’t stop. It progressively got louder and harder to the point it sounded like they were trying to break down the door. But my parents didn’t wake up.
“Perhaps they know whose at the door and they just don’t want to see them.” I though to myself. “I mean it is 11 at night.”
I resorted to creep in their room, and ask them what the heck was going on, and hopefully get a real answer.
When I peeked into their room I expected to see them sleeping. But that’s not what I saw.
But stomach did a double turn, and my heart came up to my throat. The white walls were splattered with blood like a painting. Smeared, running, and dripping. All the windows were open, and a wet warm breeze was blowing in. One set of curtains was ripped. My father was gone, and my mother was dead, and her body practically ripped apart.

Part 3

It was all I could do to move from that stop. The tears that wanted to run, couldn’t come, and my lungs just wouldn’t work. I stood rooted at that spot for what felt like hours. All the while that banging at the door continued.
Given time I went to the front of the house on the second story. There was a large black car out by the street. And down by the front door there were six men, and 2 women. All were in dark clothes except for a red rose in the lapels of their jackets. Each had a machinegun in hand, and all were aimed at the front door.
In just a few short minutes I had gone from being happy reading to seeing things I had only had dreams of, to being afraid of my own demise.
The group had stopped banging on the door, and just stood there waiting. Suddenly, a rough male voice croaked out, “Now!”
The group left the front door are encircled the house. The voice croaked out again, but louder, “NOW!” Seconds later the guns started firing. They started at the bottom of the house, and worked their way up, and then back down. I ran to the middle of the house and lay down. Bullets flew in from everywhere, and shattered everything as if everything were made of thin glass. Then they stopped, and all was silent.
“Well, if that didn’t get them, then I don’t know what will!” chirped a gleeful female voice. “You got that right!” said another man whose voice was practically velvet it was so smooth. “Lets get outta here.” Said the other man with the voice of a toad.
I stayed put, afraid that if I moved, I would die. Outside, the black car quietly started its engine and pulled away.

Part 4

The next morning I somehow managed to get downstairs. Pinned to what was left of the front door was a note. It was written as if it was from the 1800’s. Old fashioned paper, written with a quill, and sealed with blood red ink. The seal was that of a snake, probably a cobra, going in and out of a scull with a red rose in the scull’s teeth. It was addressed to Chat Noir. I opened it.

DaBeaut,

You may have the bodies, but we have the lives that once were.

May You Enjoy Their Dead Blood,

Crros


Part 5

After reading that I didn’t leave the house, or talk to anyone for two days. By the time the third day came around some of my friends decided that they had to know what was going on with me.
When I heard then attempting to knock of the door, my heart almost stopped. I had no idea who would be at that door, and quite frankly I was afraid to find out. One of them pushed the door open.
“Hello? Mina? Are you here?” said Enrika. I had known her since 5th grade.
I was upstairs, and couldn’t make myself say anything.
“Mina? Where are you? Mina?” That was Christopher, my boyfriend for almost a year, and one of my best friends since I met him when he transferred into my school.
One of them started climbing that stairs. “Mina. Come on, this place is a mess, so stop playing games.” That was Kiley. I met her two years ago, and since then all of us have been practically inseparable.
“Something smells funny.” Said Enrika.
“Please don’t come up any farther!” I shouted.
“Why?” said Kiley who was already half was up, and could probably see me.
“Well, I don’t care what you say, I’m coming up whether you like it or not.” said Enrika.
Naturally she wished she hadn’t. When she saw me, and the lack of color in my face, and noticed that the door to my parent’s room was never closed, was closed. I highly puzzled look came over her face. By that time Kiley and Christopher were upstairs and had done the same thing. Christopher went to the door and opened it. He saw what was inside, immediately shut it, and came over to me.
“What happened?”
I shook my head, and sat down.
Kiley and Enrika just had to go over to the door and open it. They left it open and back away slowly, hands to their mouths so they wouldn’t risk throwing up. They came to my room, and asked me the same question Christopher had.
“What happened?” said Kiley.
“Seriously, with all the broken glass, and bullet holes everywhere, and now the, pardon me, blood bath in there…”
“I’m really not sure what happened in there.”
For the next hour I told them all I knew, and showed them the note I had found.
To be continued….