Murders
Three Little Kids
By Brielle C.
A small village on what’s now called antelope Island was built circa 1862. It’s now 1902, and the town’s population has been growing lately, with the birth of 2 children named Kyle, tall, slim, ginger, and Stan, a short chubby noirette. Eric, a short brown-haired kid, was born later, so he was younger. His brothers never really cared for him, and his mother always joked about his scratchy voice, which, he can agree, was extremely rough, but he didn’t care! Eric never watched who or whatever called him fat or that his body looked like a pig. Stan, on the other hand, was desperate to live by himself. He hated his brothers, his mom, and his dad. He especially hated his dad. That drunk man couldn’t ever get anything through his head, like how grounding him with no food for days is child abuse.
Stan wanted to kill the man, but he couldn’t. The police would put Stan in juvenile prison. Kyle was diagnosed with ASD, Autism Spectrum Disorder, but he was considered talented and a genius young boy. Eric taunted Kyle for it, not knowing how severe the disorder could be. Still, constantly, Kyle replied, just giving him a kick on the leg and walking over to their shared room, blocking off the door with his dresser. Four years later, Stan and Kyle were thirteen, while Eric was 12. Their maniac parents had the most extraordinary thought! To send them out to live on their own! Not together but each in their hand. Built. House Ha! As if three minors knew how to make a house on their own. Eric is happy to be free from his mother, brothers, and especially his deadbeat father; the bruises he gave him will heal. As he ran off, Eric thought, “but where will I live?” he paused to think, aha!
He’s good at crafts, he thought. But the only craft material he could find was half-used duct tape and cardboard, and how will he stand the rain? Stan had seen an abandoned shed in the middle of a field; the shed was filled to the top with opossums all sprinting out. He walked in and played a rug that was to be trash, as the floor was almost impossible to look at due to the possum droppings. Stan needed to clean it up if he wanted to live there. Kyle had found an abandoned house, furniture, and all still in there. It was growing mold, though, which kyle had a fear of, so when he sat on anything, he had a stained towel under him. They all lived close together, so if they needed each other, they wouldn’t need to go far. “As if anything would happen.” thought Stan, wiping away the animal droppings. Stan gaged millions of times until it was all gone. He found an air freshener and used it whenever the smell of rotting animals returned. “What is causing the horrid smell!” checking every little corner and compartment of the shed to find a rotting cat body, Stan began to scream, and tears ran down his cheeks. He couldn’t clean it now and needed gloves or somewhere to put it. Kyle only found rats. They stank and seemed rabid, though he wasn’t scared and didn’t fret about killing them all for his safety. Eric’s cardboard hut was surprisingly sturdy as he found wood a while after beginning to put it together. It was the night after everyone was hungry and scared, and the strange figure in the tiny forest smelt it all. It began to head in the direction of the smell, triggering a slight rumble in the stomach of this creature.
As the light hit it, a shine of fur glistened, some strands flying away in the wind, a werewolf. Its shoulders are slim and sharp, with a hairy tail, slightly blonde hair, and skin-piercing nails. It grunted as it ran on all fours. Some people on a sundown walk were startled as it zoomed past, leaving a gust of wind. It was heading towards a cardboard hut, Erics, cardboard hut. It halted as it reached the small house, sliding and almost hitting it and smashing it to the ground. Though it seemed to try not to destroy it, the creature grasped the top and threw it far away, exposing sleeping Eric.
Eric quickly woke up to the cold on his skin at the sight of the giant drooling Werewolf. Eyes widening, Eric screamed, startling the mule deer nearby and interrupting the nearby village’s sleep. The monster grasped erics head and flung him a few feet away; Eric wouldn’t move; he wasn’t dead but acutely paralyzed for a few seconds. Eric gasped for air when he was able to move again; Eric quickly got up to his feet, almost stumbling as his blood sugar was low. Eric got back on his feet and began speeding away; he remembered something, I left my cat! He screamed at the sight of his mangled cat; the Werewolf had already got to him. Eric had no time to stand there and had to run away; he was heading to Stan’s house. Stan jumped up, hearing the loud repeated knocking on the shed door; the door burst open, and Eric ran inside, forgetting to close the door. Stan shut the door and looked for Eric hiding in the corner stan whispered, “Dude, what the h- oh Uhm, what happened?” Eric quickly and loudly responded, ” BARRICADE THE DOOR ITS- a Uhm Werewolf-monster? I couldn’t see it good, but it killed mister kitty!” Stan raised an eyebrow but began to block the door with a slight worry in his eyes. Eric Stan whispered what Eric responded, voice shaky.
The window shattered a dirty blonde figure busted in; Stan stepped back. At first, he was as frightened as Eric but had to defend his brother; he shifted into a fighting stance. Stan charged, but as expected, the Werewolf pinned him down; taking a bite out of Stan’s skull, Stan instantly went limp; blood and transparent liquid poured from Stan and the Werewolf’s mouth. The Werewolf tore off the bottom half as well. Eric could scream, but only a squeak would come out, and tears flooded his mouth. Eric stayed as still and quiet as he could, trying not to have the same fate as his brother. The haunting monster exited, unaware of Eric’s presence; Eric waited a minute before sneaking out; he couldn’t let anything happen to his last brother.
Kyle was asleep when he woke up to whimpers and scratches at his door. He didn’t have a pet, nor would he ever put his pet out front. The creature was imitating a puppy. Kyle was going to open the door but heard erics loud voice screaming, “NO, DONT OP-”
Kyle opened the door; Kyle was tackled to the floor. He fought back as if he had forgotten the gentle person he was. Eric ran in and pushed the Werewolf off. Kyle instantly got up and ran to the kitchen, Eric dodging the Werewolf’s fierce attacks. Kyle had charged with a knife, almost stabbing Eric; Kyle pierced the wall but quickly turned back around and once again charged at the distracted creature puncturing its lungs; the animal collapsed, knife still in, which kyle pulled out and stabbed the heart. The beast began to stop moving and shifted back to human form. A small underweight blonde boy ripped orange parka and uncut nails. Eric and Kyle weren’t caring about that; they needed to get home, their natural home. They ran for 10 minutes until they finally arrived at their house, instantly knocking at the door. Their parents answered and saw the two covered in sweat and dried blood. “Where’s stan!” his mother shouted, to which Eric replied, “Please let us in. We’ll explain after” expecting to be let in, their parents screamed, “YOU MURDERED HIM! GET AWAY; YOU’RE NOT MY CHILDREN”
