Ethan Stanley
Detective Robert Evans was sitting at his desk one day when he got a rather peculiar call. He was given a murder case. The house was coincidentally 666 Hellen Rd. He made his way to this house in the middle of nowhere. He could already tell from outside his car that it would be a massacre. He exited his car and mentally prepared himself for the image he was about to see. "Afternoon, Evans." greets an officer from behind him. Next to him was a small child. Detective Evans spoke in a low whisper, "Is he the only survivor?" he asked. The officer nodded. Robert sighs and kneels to the child.
"Hey bud, I'm Detective Evans, but you can call me Robert. I know what happened is scary, but I need you to try your best to remember what happened, okay?". The little boy, whose name was Ethan, nodded. They sat him down in the car, and Ethan explained, in explicit detail, what happened. "There was a noise in the kitchen. Things were moving on their own again. But this time, Mommy and Daddy went to see what it was. My sister, Marcy, and I stayed in our room waiting for a signal. Then we heard screams. I told my sister to stay under the bed and got the knife Daddy gave me for Christmas. I walked into the kitchen and saw Mom and Dad on the floor with lots and lots of blood. Their heads were gone and hanging on the ceiling fan, spinning and spilling blood everywhere. I saw a person the color black. Every single piece of him was black." Ethan began to cry at remembering the horrendous scene he was presented within the kitchen. "It's alright, Ethan, we don't need to know anything else." said the officer in a calming voice. The boy sat sobbing quietly as the policemen and Evans spoke quieter. "I don't think the kid can handle this, he's just seven." said the officer. "I agree, he is just a child." said Robert. Ethan was to be sent to a foster home. After it had been done, Detective Evans began inspecting the evidence. When he was conducting the fingerprint test something strange came up. The fingerprints on the knife were tiny.
