Down in Salem

Preface

The night was cool and slightly breezy. Everyone was tucked into bed dreaming their dreams without a care in the world. All was quiet. All was normal, and yet everything was stranger than ever.

It was a wonder that no body was awaken by the 'click' of a door or even the creaking floorboards as someone tip toed through the darkness. Short, light, and sneaky footsteps through the house. All that could be heard was the ticking of a clock somewhere and the light snores of the unsuspecting family upstairs.

The feet make there was up the steps, ever so quietly as not to wake the people who were about to endure what they never though possible. The bedroom doors coming in to view, one slightly ajar as too be able to hear the bumps in the night. The others tightly shut as to be concealed from such.

Growing closer and closer, having to be ever so silent. A heart beat picking up pace, blood pressure spiking, everything so loud in the ears now. It's almost as if a train was running through the brain at a hundred miles a minute with no brakes.

The door is careful pushed open, through the dark two body shaped figures are hidden beneath blankets. Those blankets rise and fall with every breath taken. Pretty soon breath will be taken.

Across the way there's another, and a little further still, another. That makes four. Four breathing bodies soon to be no more. The adrenaline rises once more. The dark and quiet soon to be taken over.

With one sudden movement came an airful of loud screams and pleads. None were heard. In only minutes this was heard again. Then for a third and fourth time. The scene was grim.

Then just as it stared, all was quiet. Everyone else still tucked into beds and dreaming their dreams, completely unaware of the tragedy that just took place.

More footsteps, louder this time, down the stairs and out the door. The door left open and everything inside a mess. It wouldn't be for hours still that anyone would notice the unusual. It wouldn't be for hours that someone would stumble upon and call for help.

Help was already too late. This was beyond help. Help would do no good. Who says this is the only house left this way? How is it know there isn't more? Or won't be more? Life is cruel.

Tomorrow the sun will come out and shine like normal, people unaware of these events. They'll go about there day just like any other. They won't even suspect walking around at the same time as them is the one that carried out these crimes.

It won't be for hours still that the sirens will sound, and the news reports flowing in by the dozen. For now, everything is quiet, and everyone still dreaming.

This is where our story begins. This is where our story will end. In the meantime, let our night turn into day. Let our families awaken, and let the truth be uncovered.