The Burning

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The occurrence of selected sinister events unravels an increasingly terrifying investigation, that endangers the life of Rebeca Williams, the detective in charge, and her six-year-old son.

Horror / Mystery
M.C Capocci
Age Rating:

The Eye

A soft cry echoed through a narrow hallway of the Broussard’s Manor. A mix of Victorian Architecture from the 19th century and decay over the years made this household dreadful enough for anyone to stay away once they got a closer look at the property.

If it wasn’t for the fresh paint, dimmed lights, and a car parked in front, it would’ve looked as if it froze in time, imposing its magnificent and unmoved presence just how it did a hundred years ago.

It was midnight and the agonizing sound traveled through every crack, every wall, and every door of its upper level giving goosebumps on the innocent child that stood a few steps from a locked room.

It was forbidden to come here, she knew that, but it was so exciting to break the rules. She was just a six-year-old little girl, too young to understand the real reason why some things were not allowed.

Her round cheeks and curious doe eyes showed a mix of terror and anticipation while her small heart pounded loudly in her chest, a type of fear that would freeze any adult but was hypnotizing for a child as pure as her.

Guided only by the dim light that passed through a window at the end of the hallway, she could barely look more than a few feet in front of her, every step making a cracking sound in the sticky wooden floor above her cold bare feet.

It felt like the darkness was staring back at her, inviting her to come in. Bringing a sense of familiarity within, as if this was not her first time in this place.

Following the cry, she wandered into the hallway, seeking something among all the black and white pictures that hung on the wall. It looked like a generational tree of family portraits, all in front of the same old manor.

“This is it”, she whispered as she stood in front of the only family portrait that got her attention, her family portrait to be exact.

Even though she was young she could recognize herself as a baby in her mother’s embrace, her father was standing beside them with a shy young girl whose long black curls covered part of her face.

Feeling unsteady, she turned to look at the door that was at her back and the insufferable crying stopped leaving only a void, filled with nothingness. She swallowed hard knowing she wasn’t alone, but could only find darkness in her surroundings.

She gasped as a black shadow appeared behind the door. The girl froze watching the silhouette move back and forth until it stood in the middle, waiting, listening, searching for her.

Two filthy fingers with long dark nails reached out from the crack of the door, scratching the outside of the floor.

“I know you are here… I can feel your presence” The shadow whispered.

The little girl jumped back in horror and remained in dead silence, watching as the fingers went back into the threshold.

This time the voice spoke softer, filled with pain. “I know you understand me. Last time you were near me, you were teething”.

The girl opened her mouth and brought her hand to the opening, where a new tooth was starting to grow. It was a milk tooth, a little bit sharp. She took a step back and saw how the filthy hand emerged from the crack again.

“Please, don’t go. I know mommy doesn’t let you speak with me, but…We can have fun too.” The shadow paused a bit before continuing. “Let’s play a game! Will you play with me?”

This time the girl took the hand out of her mouth and took a step forward. The cracking sound was the only thing she heard while she bent down and placed her little left cheek on the floor to watch what was behind it.

What she saw next gave her the creeps. Another eye in the same position as her, looking at her, wide and open, with dark circles in white pale skin.

The creaking hand emerged through the threshold to touch her soft cheek, passing a chill down her spine, making it impossible not to cringe at the sensation of the caressing nails.

“Don’t be scared, I won’t hurt you” the hand remained touching her round plump cheekbones.

“Are you ready to play? I have so much space and toys inside. You should come in…”

The little girl felt obliged to nod, getting lost in those hypnotizing dark eyes, while her face rested on the sticky cold wooden floor. A sound downstairs took the little girl’s attention, breaking her free of the intense glare of that eye.

She watched the hallway where she came from wondering if someone would come up. I should go, before mommy finds me here, she thought.

“Don’t go! Look, look what I have for you!” The filthy hand flashed a sparkling gold item that got her complete attention.

The girl smiled in curiosity and pulled her hand inside the threshold without thinking. She attempted once, twice, thrice, but nothing. The shadow kept playing with her, leaving the gold item out of her reach every time she was close to grabbing it.

“Ah..ah..ah… if you want it, then you will have to come inside. You do remember where daddy keeps the key don’t you?” A long pause happened before continuing in a controlled voice.

“Now, be a good girl for me”.

The girl stood up and looked at the picture, the Broussard’s family portrait. She jumped a couple of times, her small body trying to reach out until her fingertips moved the picture frame. A set of keys slid from the top, landing with a low jangle on the floor.

Grabbing the keys the girl turned to the door and bent down. She looked through the crack on the wall, finding no sign of the eye or the shadow on the threshold. She inserted the key in the old lock until it gave in and..

Clock, the door opened in a swift move making a squeaking noise.

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