Scratches
Modin Hampshire's mother is a superstitious woman, that is why she named her only daughter after Thor's son Modi, who had been destined to survive the Norse end of the world: Ragnarok. Andrea Hampshire was sure by naming her Modin she would be destined to live a long and prosperous life. Some God somewhere must have been laughing at Andrea on the night of October the 18th.
The Hampshire's lived in a quiet suburban neighborhood in Bellevue, Tennessee. Most kids in Modin's freshman class were partying at Freddy's house two streets over from her own house. Modin, instead of getting dolled up like all of her friends, was sitting on the couch in her 'straight off a magazine cover' living room.
The night had a demonic chill that made goose bumps rise on Modin's arms, despite being inside. Her parents were currently enjoying a date night at Demos' in downtown Nashville, and would not be back until after midnight. The grandfather clock read 7:52, and already Modin had the desire to go upstairs to her room and sleep until morning.
The television blared a Taylor Swift music video, but Modin was focusing on a strange noise from the dining room. What was that noise?
Modin stood and cautiously tiptoed through the kitchen and into the large dining room area. The room was empty and the scratching sound was absent. She glanced under the mahogany table and out the glass double doors just to be sure no one was hiding there. When she deemed the coast clear, Modin went back to watching television. However, before she made it three steps, the scratching sound returned, only this time from the kitchen.
It's not real! Modin screamed to herself, it's just your imagination running wild.
Modin peeped around the wall into the kitchen. The room was also empty of people, and everything appeared to be in its proper place: the round table with its six chairs were sitting in the center of the room, the island was empty and polished, and all the appliances were turned off. So what was the scratching noise?
Modin shook her head and walked into back into the living room. She plopped down onto the sofa and stretched out, closing her eyes for a brief moment. The room seemed to quiet. She stared at the black screen of the flat screen, I don't remember turning off the TV.
Modin cringed as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She could feel the house grow colder, as if someone had turned on the A/C unit. The alarm system blared and flashed a bright green color from beside the front door. Though no one was visible, Modin could feel the presence of someone else in the house with her.
The front door stood wide open, the cold wind of the night blew leaves into the houses' interior. Modin shivered as her eyes studied every crevice of the room. The cell phone in her pocket vibrated, the alarm system's operator's name flashed on the screen. "Hello," Modin whispered, "I think someone is in my house. The front door is open, but I don't see anyone."
"Hello," the operator answered, "Modin I must advise you to exit the house immediately. You can stay on the phone with me if you would like."
Modin's brain ran rampant, "How do you know my name? I never mentioned it."
The line stayed silent for a moment, "I just assumed it was you. Your name is listed on the system's registry."
A crashing sound from upstairs caused Modin to drop the phone. She turned and ran out the front door as fast as she could. The walkway leading from the house seemed endless and the air in her lungs was quickly depleting. She pushed through the bushes that concealed the house from the road and stopped cold. A dark van with only a window on the driver's side sat parked directly in front of her.
Oh God, the man on the phone wanted me to come outside.
Modin slammed the door shut, she could hardly remember the run back into the house. She panted and slid down the door frame. The floor was hard and unforgiving. A hard push caused Modin to fall forward on her face. Someone was trying to bust down the front door; the door hinges were straining from the force.
Modin knew she had to find a safe place to hide. She grabbed the cell phone from where she had dropped it minutes before and ran upstairs to her parent's room. She slipped into the wide double doors and pushed aside the dresser on the left wall. The dresser was only a front, behind it stood a keypad that opened the secret room.
Modin punched in the code, 9-6-4-0-2, and entered the family panic room. The door shut behind her and locked. She felt safe until she turned around and had her first look at the panic room. Suddenly, Modin felt she might have a better chance facing the attackers outside, rather than face the horrors that her parents had hidden away in the hidden room.
