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Rated: 18+ · Other · Supernatural · #1608954
Would you let them in if they needed your help?
I saw them outside Mrs. Keeler’s house last night. They looked no older than ten, maybe younger, I’m not sure, but I know that they saw me too. The small boy stared back at me in a disturbing way that I could not help but think of the Children of the Damned. I laughed it off though; nothing supernatural actually exists in reality. But when morning came and the police were at Mrs. Keeler’s house, I knew something was off. Really though, who would believe me? I was the daughter of a mad woman who was locked away from the world; I lived with my Aunt because no one, not even my father wanted to be around me because I looked like my mother. Red hair, brown eyes and pale white skin that only an Asian would be envious of.

I knew I should tell the police what I saw but I knew how they would respond. When I read the paper the next day the article read, Local Woman Murdered in Own Home. There were no details about how the intruder got in because there was no forced entry. I saw Mrs. Keeler invite the children in. It was just after nine and any normal woman would not think twice about allowing children into their home. I had stopped watching then, thinking what can a child do?

I guess they can do a lot more than I thought.

A few weeks later, after the paranoia had faded, I was home alone once again watching some reality show on TV when the doorbell rang. I looked at the clock and it read nine forty-five; a little late for random callers.

I made my way to the door, hesitating for a brief second before I pulled the door open. Standing there were two children, a boy and girl, but not the same two that I saw outside Mrs. Keeler’s. The girl had long brown hair that hung down her back like waves. The boy had short cropped black hair with a cowlick that stuck up in the back.

“We’re sorry to bother you miss, but we seem to be lost.” The girl said in a shy, quiet voice. The boy nodded as she spoke but kept his thoughts to himself.

“Where are you headed?” I ask them as a feeling of dread and horror crash through me.

“We were playing in the park and our sitter left us” the girl went on. “Can we use your phone to call our parents?”

The boy stared at me but I could not look at him. There was something about his eyes that made me look away. I focused on the girl, trying to hide my fear. Something was telling me not to invite them in, but they were children in need of help.

“I can bring the phone to you,” I say, hoping this will satisfy them, though not knowing why that thought even crossed my mind.

“No,” the boy says quickly.

The girl snaps her head quickly to look at the boy and I swear her eyes flashed black. “He doesn’t like the dark,” she says though she does not take her eyes off of him. “It would be better if we come in.”

They were waiting for an invite; they would not enter my house without an invite. What were they, vampires or something even darker? I was sure that they were not children, they couldn’t be, and not with the way I was feeling. I thought about it, about letting them in and about slamming the door in their faces, but for some reason, I couldn’t do either.

“No,” I tell them. “You cannot come in,” but I still don’t close the door.

“You turn away children in need?” The girl turns her attention back to me and I was right, her eyes were entirely black. There were no irises or whites to her eyes, just pure blackness.

“You’re not children,” I let the words out carefully.

The boy smiles at me though he is careful not to open his mouth. The girl does the same, but she reaches out and takes hold of the boy’s hand.

“You’re right,” she says evenly. “But if you don’t let us in, we will find someone who will.”

“What are you?” I find myself curiously interested in them.

“Nothing you will understand,” she smiles. “Now, I will ask again,”

“I’m not letting you in,”

The boy lunges at me but he cannot pass through the door. It is as if there was an invisible wall standing between us, but it did not stop me from seeing what was inside the boy’s mouth.

As he lunged he bared his teeth, sharp little teeth that looked like they could rip apart a cow.

“Suit yourself,” the girl says before turning and walking down the path. The boy lingered for a moment more before following.

I closed the door, proud at how I reacted but still fearful to where they would go to next.

I woke up the next morning to the smell of bacon, so I made my way into the kitchen. I heard my Aunt talking to someone before I even turned the corner.

“What time did you say your parents would be here?”

Sitting at the kitchen table with my Aunt were the boy and girl. They stared at me with smiling faces as I stood in the entry way.

“Oh good, you’re awake. You won’t believe the night I had. I found these two wandering the streets last night. Can you believe that their sitter left them to go off with her boyfriend?” my aunt went on and on about how they had come up to her car and asked for a ride home, but when they confessed that their sitter had left them and that their parents were at a party in the next county, she invited them to stay the night, only after they had called their parents.

“Your Aunt saved us from sleeping in the cold,” the girl said, still smiling at me. “Some people in this world are still kind-hearted,”

“Get out,” I said the words before I even thought.

The boy started laughing uncontrollably before lunging at my Aunt and tearing at her throat with his teeth. The girl laughed and clapped her hands as she watched him kill my aunt.

“We wanted to wait for you, before we fed.” The girl told me. “We wanted you to remember that your Aunt died because of you.”

The boy stood up from my Aunts bloody body and stared at me. His mouth was stained with blood and flesh was hanging out of his mouth. “I wanted your flesh, your blood, but you denied us entry. We cannot feed on you, but we will haunt you.”

I stood there, stock still and terrified. There was nothing I could do, so I screamed and then they screamed, though it was not normal. They shrieked horrifically, like someone burning alive and I swear there was laughter mixed in.

I closed my eyes, not wanting to see anything. Then the shrieking stopped and I was alone. The Black Eyed Kids were gone, leaving me alone with my dead Aunt.

The police think that I did it; they think I am as crazy as my mother, but I know what I saw, I know and that is all that matters.



Word count: 1,237

© Copyright 2009 E A Dillon (eadillon at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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