I heard the distant screams of my parents from down the hall, followed by the sound of flesh ripping. Soon after I could hear faintly what sounded like someone gurgling, choking, as if their throats at been slit. Repeatedly the sound of metal sinking into meat filled my empty rooms air, tears began to well up in my eyes, I knew my parents were dead. My thoughts wandered, did he know I was In the house? Had he seen me run away, and take refuge in my closet? How long would it take him to find me? and when he did what was he going to do? The more I thought the more I wanted to jump out of the closet at head for the dear, screaming murder as loud as I could, praying someone would hear me. But I knew the second I took a foot in the hallway, he would get me, and that would be the end.
A couple minutes passed, I wasn't sure if the man who had broke into my home and brutally killed my parents was still around looking for me, or maybe he had left. I didn't hear any movement, all I could hear were my silenced sobs, lingering above me, like a thunder cloud. I finally summoned enough courage to peek through the door, when the man walked into my room. It caught me off guard and I flung back against the wall, hitting it with a thud. He stopped moving and peered in my direction, I knew he had heard me, I knew he was going to come in. He continued his was in my room, dragging something, my mother. He placed her body in an upright position, facing me. My eyes still hadn't adjusted to the dark, so all I could see was her white gown that was now a darker shade of red. Her hair was tangled with her hands, it looked damp, wet when the moonlight from my window hit it, I knew It was blood. I tried to level my breath and keep myself from crying, until my father came next.
The man dragged my father into the room, and placed him on my bed, that was directly across from the closet. My mother who was on the floor against the wall was sat right next to him, both looking at me. I couldn't see my father for that portion of the room was darker, than where my mother was, sure enough I knew he was dead too. The man walked over to my mom and slid his hand across the wound on her neck, and began writing on the walls. I couldn't see what he was writing or where he was writing it, for he moved back and forth quite a bit. After a minute he stood back looked around, viewing what you could call "His Master Piece" he wiped his blood stained hands on my bed covers and sat in the hallway.
I sat in silence. Hours passed and I still hadn't heard the man walk around or move, he just sat there, quite as ever. Making it harder for me to move or breath. Finally the sun began to rise, filling my room with light. I could fully see my parents now, the red darker part of my mothers gown wasn't just blood, it was her guts, spilled onto the floor. Same with my father but his were dangling off the side of the bed. I could also read what he wrote on the wall, I took a quick look, and the words I read froze my blood to the bone.
"I know where you're hiding"
