Shhh, do not make a sound, she whispered, as they both hid in the closet.
Suddenly, the door leading to their bedroom opened, and footsteps could be heard walking into the room, slowly pacing around, in search of something or someone.
Holding her sister tightly close to her breast, with her right palm firmly over her sister’s mouth, they both remained silent as their hearts pounded. The closet in which they hid, was behind a brown curtain that blended perfectly with the color of the room, making it less noticeable in the darkness faintly lit by the shallow ray of the crescent moon.
In big boots covered in mud, wearing pants rugged and dirty with smirks of blood, the stranger stood in the center of the room with a bloodied knife in his right hand, and a hooded face covered with a mask. He stood there quietly and listened keenly, in a bid to hear a tiny bit of sound that would indicate a presence. But only the squeaks of the night critters could be heard on the cold night, for all was quiet.
Then faintly from a distance, the sirens came sounding, louder and louder. Someone must have called the police, probably when the disturbance was heard from the house, it had to be one of the neighbors. In disappointment and frustration, the stranger quickly left the room, and then the house, fleeing into the night. A few minutes later the police surrounded the house, with sirens blaring and torches flashing, finding their way into the house in search of anyone and everyone.
On the couch of the living room, laid a man whose gut was outside of him, laying dead with numerous stabs to his body. On the way to the kid’s room where the girls hid, just before the steps leading up, laid a woman covered in her blood with her throat slit wide open.
Emmalase.
Emmalase