Kelsey glowered at everyone she passed as she stormed out of the school's front doors. Volleyball was canceled; it was raining; she had no umbrella and her parents were too "busy" to pick her up. A mousy boy crashed into her and she violently shoved him off, snapping, "Watch where you're going!" He mumbled something and quickly sprinted away.
The rain was pouring down in sheets of gray, slamming into her brand-new clothes and turning her adorable shoes into a soggy mess. She shivered in her tight t-shirt and started to walk faster and faster. What if someone important saw her, utterly bedraggled, during her thirty-minute walk home? Kelsey kicked a rock and then glared at it when her toe began to hurt. It was going to be a much longer walk than normal.
***
The man's slender fingers stroked his smooth chin as his pale eyes watched the falling rain. It was the perfect weather. Who would notice a small girl in times like this? Everyone would be too concerned with their clothes, and their happiness to notice one little girl who was there one moment and gone the next.
The perfect weather.
***
She hummed a tune to herself as she rocked the sleeping baby, the young boy pressed against her garish yellow apron, dotted with bright red roses. The weather was positively dreary outside - she much preferred the bright shine of the sun gazing in from outside, with the cerulean canvas of the sky overhead. Little Georgie liked that weather too, for he always had a charming smile on his face on those nice days.
But soon the clouds would clear up - in an hour at most. Already the rain had lightened up a little, surely, even if it was imperceptible. "And then we'll go for a walk in the park," she told Georgie. "A nice, long walk in the park where you can see the butterflies and the bunnies and flowers. Then we'll get home and put supper on the table, just in time for Daddy."
Georgie's long eyelashes fluttered, but he remained asleep, as perfect as can be.
The phone rang.
***
A small, green Honda pulled up to the curb, and Kelsey eyed it warily. She had heard enough times in school about the danger of kidnappers, and that, she thought ironically to herself, would just be the finishing touch to her very most perfect day. Inside, though, was a large, grinning woman with a fat little baby in her arms, warmly calling, "Kelsey, dear! Would you like a ride? Your father asked me to come pick you up, such a nice fellow."
"No, th -" she automatically began, and then stopped suddenly. Screw this, she thought. I'm wet and tired and hungry, and my clothes are messed up and it's just a woman anyway, a mother with her little baby. "Actually, yes, thank you." She smiled and sat down on the seat beside the woman.
As they began to drive, the woman cheerily introduced herself, "I'm Mrs. Morrow, I just moved in from down the block!"
Kelsey vaguely recalled something about a family with a baby moving in nearby.
"Little Georgie here is six months old," she continued with pride. "Such a cute little boy, isn't he?"
"Very cute," she politely answered, glancing guiltily at the puddle forming on the floor.
The woman chattered on, "My husband, he's an accountant. Works for a firm about twenty minutes away. Say, is your father an accountant?"
Kelsey looked up at her, confused. "My father? Um, no, he's a lawyer."
She squinted at her. "Oh, really, well, I wouldn't have thought. He just didn't seem that type, you know? Dark, quiet man, isn't he?"
"Dad? Quiet?" Kelsey laughed. "No, he's the most talkative guy in town."
Chuckling, she replied, "Guess he had a lot on his mind or something. Well, my husband is a quiet man but I do like to talk a bit. Not a gossiper, mind you, but I do like my neighborly meets with the other women in town."
She continued to talk in a loud voice, barely pausing for breath, while Kelsey turned and looked out the window. The rain didn't cease.
***
The car stopped in front of his house, and the girl got out, looking bewildered. The foolish woman hustled her up to the door, mouth still flapping, and the young girl utterly confused, but unable to even protest. With a cheery wave, Morrow turned and quickly got back into the car, making sure her precious Georgie was all right.
He might like to get his hands on little Georgie someday, he thought. But not until he got older, of course. His pale hands reached out and opened the door, clutching her arm and dragging her inside.
"There's some mistake!" she yelped, brown eyes frantic as she slowly realized what had happened. The others, they were so much slower than her. Dull little children who believe their lives are too perfect for anything to happen to them.
His intense eyes turned onto hers. "There is no mistake, Kelsey," he drawled. "Do come into the living room, will you? Have a seat."
Her eyes darted to the door, and he squeezed her arm harder. "Have a seat."
She then saw a bulge under his clothing in a shape she ought to know very well from movies, and slowly followed him, the tears already pooling in her eyes.
***
They call it night, even though it's really half day. But in this house, it was night the whole time.
The Nest
Jake crouched on the red tiles of the kitchen floor, examining a stray ant through his new magnifying legs. "Look," he said in a hushed voice. "It's got six legs!"
"That's right," his mother replied absent-mindedly, checking on the chicken inside the oven. Unsatisfied, she placed it back in and turned to the spaghetti.
Sighing in contentment, he leaned back against the wall and breathed in the deep, delicious aromas swirling around the room. It was warm and cozy, the perfect place to be during the frigid winter. Tail wagging, Kodak padded over to him, her lustrous, golden fur shining in the bright light. "Hi, girl," he murmured, stroking her.
She licked his face and then settled on the floor, resting her head in his lap. Giggling, he patted her head. Her long tail thumped against the floor, making him laugh harder. Jake's father called from the den, "Food, Kodak!"
Yawning, she stood up and lumbered away in a dignified manner, very different from a few years ago, when she would skid around the house, barking, at the slightest noise. Jake got to his feet as well and picked up his magnifying glass, studying the kitchen counter. "Would you grab me a can of spaghetti sauce?" his mother asked. "I don't think I'll have time to make my own before your grandmother gets here."
He glanced at her. "In...in the cellar?"
"Of course." She laughed lightly. "Where else would it be?"
"But there are monsters in there!"
"Don't be silly, Jake. There are no such things. You're a big boy now, aren't you? Six years old."
He put down the glass and hesitantly walked over to the cellar door. Slowly, he reached out and gripped the knob. As soon as he made contact with the ancient brass, his body felt like it was pierced with ice. Trembling, he opened it, bracing himself against the freezing cold wave that flowed through him.
Trying to take deep breaths, he took a tentative step onto the first stair. Pain like electricity shocked him, and he gasped. Jake could already tell that today was different. Whatever was in there was in a terrible mood, a hungry mood. He looked over his shoulder. Was it too late to go back inside? Maybe if he threw a tantrum...
The door swung shut with an ominous click, and his heart jumped. Jake turned around, sweat sliding down his cheeks, and tentatively reached forward for the door knob. His fingers were a hair's width from the rusty instrument, but suddenly stopped. Grunting, he tried to reach it, but couldn't and he knew he was trapped.
Jake's stomach clenched, and he slowly backed away from the door. Something shifted beneath his feet, but he couldn't scream, couldn't yell, could only whimper as he landed, hard, against the concrete floor. His head smashed into it with a nasty thud, and the darkness swam before his eyes. There was a searing light, and then all was black.
"That's right," his mother replied absent-mindedly, checking on the chicken inside the oven. Unsatisfied, she placed it back in and turned to the spaghetti.
Sighing in contentment, he leaned back against the wall and breathed in the deep, delicious aromas swirling around the room. It was warm and cozy, the perfect place to be during the frigid winter. Tail wagging, Kodak padded over to him, her lustrous, golden fur shining in the bright light. "Hi, girl," he murmured, stroking her.
She licked his face and then settled on the floor, resting her head in his lap. Giggling, he patted her head. Her long tail thumped against the floor, making him laugh harder. Jake's father called from the den, "Food, Kodak!"
Yawning, she stood up and lumbered away in a dignified manner, very different from a few years ago, when she would skid around the house, barking, at the slightest noise. Jake got to his feet as well and picked up his magnifying glass, studying the kitchen counter. "Would you grab me a can of spaghetti sauce?" his mother asked. "I don't think I'll have time to make my own before your grandmother gets here."
He glanced at her. "In...in the cellar?"
"Of course." She laughed lightly. "Where else would it be?"
"But there are monsters in there!"
"Don't be silly, Jake. There are no such things. You're a big boy now, aren't you? Six years old."
He put down the glass and hesitantly walked over to the cellar door. Slowly, he reached out and gripped the knob. As soon as he made contact with the ancient brass, his body felt like it was pierced with ice. Trembling, he opened it, bracing himself against the freezing cold wave that flowed through him.
Trying to take deep breaths, he took a tentative step onto the first stair. Pain like electricity shocked him, and he gasped. Jake could already tell that today was different. Whatever was in there was in a terrible mood, a hungry mood. He looked over his shoulder. Was it too late to go back inside? Maybe if he threw a tantrum...
The door swung shut with an ominous click, and his heart jumped. Jake turned around, sweat sliding down his cheeks, and tentatively reached forward for the door knob. His fingers were a hair's width from the rusty instrument, but suddenly stopped. Grunting, he tried to reach it, but couldn't and he knew he was trapped.
Jake's stomach clenched, and he slowly backed away from the door. Something shifted beneath his feet, but he couldn't scream, couldn't yell, could only whimper as he landed, hard, against the concrete floor. His head smashed into it with a nasty thud, and the darkness swam before his eyes. There was a searing light, and then all was black.
