An Eye For An Eye

An Eye For An Eye
By Stephen A Abell

Number Of Words: 497



“Daddy! Daddy!” Maddy’s angelic voice cried as she ran in from the garden. “Look at what I found.” She held up a spherical shape and it glinted in the sunlight. “I found an eye!”

That was how it began. Indeed, it was an eye; a glass eye. It reminded me of the marbles I used to play with as a child. I wandered out with her to the tree at the bottom of our garden and she pointed to the ground.

“That’s where it was.” The soil was unmarked and hard. It hadn’t been disturbed for years.

That night we went to bed and I placed the eye on the nightstand; Maddy had found new treasures to interest her. The dream rolled in as soon as my eyes closed, I don’t think I was even asleep. There was a sound like a dog burying a bone. I was alone in the house, walking through the dark moonlit hallways and rooms in search of the noise. I knew it originated outside, from the tree. I looked through the window but the garden was quiet and peaceful. There was a slow clacking sound behind me on the hardwood floor, it sounded just like someone walking in cleats.

I turned slowly, fear telling me to hesitate, not to look. There was nothing there.

A cold bony hand fell onto my naked shoulder, I spun and stared into the face of a …

I was upright in bed, sweat dripping from me and soaking the sheets. I slid out of bed amazed that I hadn’t awoken the wife, and headed to the toilet.

I noticed that Maddy’s light was on so I glanced in to see if she was all right and to flick off the switch. The blood around her head looked like a Satanic Halo. Her eyes had been ripped from their sockets; her favourite pen lay beside her pillow, meaty gristle still hung wetly from it. I screamed and ran for my wife.

She lay still and I knew the worst. On her bedside table was an empty plate and a fork, she’d had apple pie so why was the juice a dark colour? I knew why, I could see the stain growing on her pillow.

I heard the click-clack coming nearer down the hall. I ran to face my killer and fear halted me. In the moonlight, I saw the dirty grey bones of the skeleton as he meandered towards me. Rocking loosely in the eye sockets were my wife’s beautiful blue eyes. They fell with a lifeless thud to the floor. I knew he wanted mine; I turned and fled for the back stairs and escape.

You guys caught me there. Bill and Sharon must have called you when they heard me screaming. I tell you officer, I didn’t kill them. I loved them. You think I staged all of this to look crazy.

Hey, don’t leave me.

Please.

No.

Don’t you hear that click-clack sound?