Magnolia

e i g h t

"I guess it all started when my parents died," she said slowly, choosing her words carefully. 

"In the bank robbery," I said, finishing her sentence. I knew that from the research I'd done. 

She turned to me, her eyebrows furrowed as she shook her head. "No" she said, her riddled eyes watching me. "That was the cover story that was used in the newspaper. What really happened was too..confusing for the public" she placed her words delicately, clearly not telling this story often. "I am in this line of work because of my parents. They did what I do. Hell, they practically invented it. They were some of the best there were" she said, her stare going blank as she reminisced. 

Clearing my throat, Emma snapped back into it. "Well, when my parents died, it was decided I'd fill their spot. I mean, the decision was more mine than anyone. I wanted this. They deemed me capable, and boom. I joined the job" Emma shrugged, gingerly touching the scab on her lip.

"Okay",  I said slowly, "So how did they die?" I asked, not sure I was ready to hear the answer.

Emma's eyes met mine, and I knew I wasn't ready to hear the answer. But I needed to. "I'll tell you the story," she said taking a deep breath, "But remember Luke, from here, there's no going back."

Four Years Ago

A noise coming from the first floor woke her. Emma sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. She heard the noise again followed by a grunt. "Mom?" Emma called, hearing nothing but silence in return. "Dad?" she asked, met with the same response. 

She kicked off the covers, creeping towards her door in only a frilly, floral nightgown. She gingerly pushed open the door, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "Momma?" she ventured, quieter now as she walked through the hallway. "Dad?" she whispered, the wood creaking ever so softly beneath her feet. 

There was still no answer, her worrying intensified. She crept down the stairs, eyes wide, heart thumping loudly in her ears. Her hands trembled as they traced the railing, the floor ice cold beneath her bare feet. 

She reached the first floor, the house eerily silent. Except for a dripping sound, as if someone had left the faucet on.  Taking a deep breath, Emma mustered all the courage she could, her hands clenching into fists. 

The hallway ended, the swinging door to the kitchen in front of her. Squeezing her eyes shut and willing the fear away, she told herself her parents would be in the kitchen, having one of their late-night chats, the sink water dripping rhythmically. 

So she pushed open the door, unaware that what she saw would haunt her for the rest of her life. When she blinked, when she drove, when she slept, when she dreamt, she'd see it all over again. Like she was still that girl in a floral nightgown, standing in the kitchen. 

She first saw her mother, who's body was sprawled across the floor. Her lifeless eyes were glossy as if they were staring back at Emma. Blood pooled around her, dripping from her throat. Drip, drip, drip. 

Emma's eyes darted to her father, who was slumped against the stove. Blood spatter covered the white cabinets, the corpse sitting in a pool of blood. His throat was now nothing but ribbons. Her mouth opened to scream, to cry out for help, but nothing came out. Emma was paralyzed, standing in the kitchen, staring at what used to be her parents. 

"They're dead now sweetie" a voice spoke from the darkness, Emma whipping around to spot a tall man emerging from the shadows. A gasp finally escaped her, her back bumping the cabinets as he approached her. "Don't worry, you're going to join them" he chuckled, a sick grin twisting on what she could see of his face.