Bad Decisions

The entrance to the stone house was shrouded in darkness as I stepped over its threshold. It was eerily quiet as I scanned my surroundings. My breath caught and chills  shot up and down my spine, ominously. Everyday, without fail, I was greeted by my parents, as if they were waiting anxiously for my arrival. But this time, nobody...It was as if the house had remained vacant for years.  “Mom?” I called out. “Dad?” I had just wanted to see their smiling faces, shining with love. I only wanted to feel their warm embrace. Even if it was only once more.  The stillair of the house wasn’t enough to convince me not to keep searching. If anything, it fueled my curiosity. I frantically searched the house, my breath gradually came out quicker, more panicked. I was unsuccessful until I heard a crash from the basement, followed by an anguished cry.  Confusion washed over me. Why would someone sound so distraught? My parents never cried, never worried. Dread stopped me cold, my veins seeming to freeze up in fear. I rushed to the basement door and threw it open. I practically flew down the stairs and around the corner, bringing me outside the door to the armory. The armory was full of antique, decorative swords and knives that my parents collected over the years. And typically off limits to me.  But right then I didn’t care about the consequences.  The crying had stopped and for a moment—and perhaps it would be the last moment of my life—everything remained perfectly quiet and clear. But when the thumps and crashes started from behind the red oak door that seemed to stretch eternally high in the shadows, that feeling all melted away. All thoughts and logic went away with it.  I couldn’t stop myself from acting rashly.  I swung the door open, knowing that everything was all wrong, and regretted it instantly.  At first, everything was dark. My eyes didn’t take long to adjust to the differences in light.  My eyes landed on my father first in the middle of the room. He was crouched low, his shoulders expanding fast with his deep pants. He whipped around at my entrance, and his red eyes widened with pure terror.  “Kassie…” he was saying. I zoned out his words as my eyes caught a figure on the other side of the room. That figure was a lifeless heap, laying in a dark pool of her own blood. There was a slit through her throat causing blood to soak through her once pristine, white shirt.  It felt like a long few moments as my brain rewired to understand what I was seeing. Mom. Blood. Death. It was undeniably my mother. Her long, straight red hair spread wildly across the floor, starting to soak in her blood. Both her green eyes still wide open in surprise.  A blood-curdling scream was ripped out of my throat. It wasn’t until I stopped screaming, my throat feeling rubbed raw, that I had realized I was the one actually screaming.  Suddenly, hands were on either arm, sharp claws digging deep into my soft flesh, blood starting to pool. I whimpered as pain coursed through my arms, deep to my bones. I tore my eyes away from the corpse of my mother and saw the monster in front of me. I had enough training to be able to recognize that the man that towered over me was some sort of demon. A strong, immortal creature that radiated darkness from his very core. My eyes blurred, making it impossible to see his face clearly. He laughed as he pulled me closer to him. My heart stopped at that moment.  I was going to die. I was too young to die.  But no, I was never that lucky.  I squirmed, knowing I wasn't doing any good. I felt cold and hot, consumed in my own fear. His nails seemed to only dig deeper into me as I struggled to break free, tearing my pale flesh away.  Next I knew, he was crashing against the cement wall across from me, cracking the wall behind him.  In the process, my left arm had gotten a deep gash on the outside of my forearm from where the demon grabbed me tightly. I looked up and saw my father in front of me. His usually slicked-back black hair was now disheveled and hanging in his angry, scared eyes.  “Daddy…” I barely muttered through my overly dry throat, my voice coming out in a coarse whisper. “You need to go.”  I opened my mouth to argue. In return, he scowled at me, his eyes glowing red with anger.  “Now!” In the blink of an eye, he pushed me out the door. My body flew towards the ground, landing on my side. My head bounced off the tiled floor with a sickening noise. I felt a warm sticky liquid slide down my face. Instinctually, I put my fingers to it and saw them stained bright red with my blood.  Behind me, the door slammed shut and the lock turned in place.  I shot back up and tried to open the door.  Locked. Images of everything bad that could possibly be happening behind that sealed door flashed through my mind.  I knew there was nothing I could do, just as much as I knew my dad wasn’t going to be the one who came back out that door. There wasn’t a soul that could fight against a demon by themselves, and win.  My fists met the wood of the door, pounding anxiously. I hoped, somehow, I could fight my way in. Somehow, I would help my father. Or die trying. “Daddy!” I screamed, begging him to open the door.  We had to be together as a family, always.  But when I heard the lock being undone, I lost my bravado. I knew every part of my being that it wasn’t my father behind that door. I took a couple steps backwards, nervously, scared to turn my back on the door, but as the door started creaking open, I turned the other way and bolted up the stairs. My foot met the second step and ended up slipping out from under me. I barely caught myself before my face met the floor.  It didn’t take me long to realize I slipped on fresh blood that was as bright as the blood oozing from my cuts. My eyes followed to see that it trailed halfway up the stairs. “Mommy…” I heard a dark chuckle and I looked over my shoulder to see the man from before standing in the doorway, watching me from the faint moonlight trailing in from the small basement windows. I couldn’t make out anything from this shadowy figure, but I could feel he was watching me with dark humor.  I couldn’t stand another moment of him looking at me like that. Carefully, avoiding the blood drippings, I darted up the stairs faster than any normal five-year-old girl could muster, taking them two at a time. I only quickly stopped in order to close and lock the door. I knew it would never be able to hold a powerful demon back like him...but I just had to slow him down. After that, I just kept on running.