January 3rd , 2024
Ole Libitina , Texas
The sound of glass shattering could be heard all throughout the quiet , peaceful neighborhood. The spoiled house pets with their bedazzled collars and custom-made doggy outfits barked and growled behind chain-linked & wooden fenced-in yards. Makenna smiled , watching as everything unfolded right before her own eyes. Shards of glass flew out upon the freshly mowed front lawn outside the home , deep , crimson blood splattered the remaining intact stainless window within the three-story brick house. She sat Indian style at the edge of own grassy-weed covered yard across the road with a large family sized bag of lightly salted rippled chips placed neatly in the center of her faded , ripped blue jean cladded lap. Almost every week there was someone breaking in the two-story & three-story brick residences within her small , quaint neighborhood. Mostly young teens high on some new experimental drug wanting to earn some quick cash by stealing valuables then selling them on the black market . Someone always ended up leaving in the back of an outdated police car that needed its sirens replaced , screaming all sorts of profanities that popped in their head at the time. Others that were severely wounded after having a violent encounter with the burglar would be hauled from their home on a faded , ripped cushioned gurney and lifted into the back of an ambulance driven by an oversized man wearing a uniform that barely fit , shoving junk food in his mouth and counting the hours that passed by till his shift was over and could go home. Very rarely , she would see a lifeless corpse neatly tucked away within a zipped-up midnight black body bag on it's merry one-way trip to the nearby morgue.
Makenna tilted her head , the sounds of high-pitched police sirens screeched through the darkness of the sleepless night as they sped down Marylee Street , red and blue flashing lights illuminated the once shadowy area. She didn't have to turn her head and count the cars one by one. She could tell how many police cars had arrived at the scene just by the sound of their blaring sirens that resounded within her ears. Four. Four cars had arrived , each one parked behind one another along the side of the road. Uniformed men and women climbed out of their vehicles , stalking through the decorative lot filled with variety of garden gnomes and well-trimmed bushes with their weapons raised and aiming directly towards the home where the living room window had been busted. One of the officers , a heavy-set man with an balding head and well-kept beard aimed his gun at the shadow-filled room. He squinted his moss-colored eyes and tried to scan the inside of the dimly-lit space. "Come out with your hands up!" He shouted. He flinched and almost took a step back as a large , muscular man with bulging biceps and well-defined chest stepped outside. He was dressed head to toe in skin tight , dark leather clothing that showed off his well-sculpted figure. The mysterious man stood a couples of inches taller than six feet ; he craned his neck so his head wouldn't touch the ceiling while maneuvering himself through the window and avoiding the sharp edges of the jagged shards protruding out from the steel frame. The steel toed combat boots he wore had seen better days , chemical stains had altered the leather in certain areas and small rips could be seen near the heels. He stomped through the lawn enveloped with shards of glass which crunched beneath the soles of his boots with each heavy step he took.
A sharpened steel-edged blade stained with fresh blood was securely held within his large , leathered gloved hand in a tight grip . Crimson droplets slid down the side of the flesh cutting edge and dripped upon the emerald colored grass. He tucked the custom-made hunting knife by his side , the handle had been made from an Elk's antler, the sharp pointed ends pressed lightly into the leather of his jacket. The blade shimmered under the moon's silver light. The police stepped further onto the property. Their eyes glued and never wavering from the man before them. He didn't attempt to run and flee the scene like most would. Instead , he tightened his grip on the knife and lifted his free hand to motion them to come closer. Makenna watched as the officer forced his legs to move and approach the knife wielding man. He pressed the end of the barrel of his pistol into the man's chest , his chubby index finger itching to pull the trigger. She watched the man's muscles ripple beneath the stretching fabric of the black tee he wore as he flexed those massive arms and stared down at the uniformed officer with wickedness swirling in those hazel eyes of his. The officer's bushy brows furrowed , sweat trickled down the side of his face as he slowly outstretched his open hand and reached for the blade. The other officers ambled near ; their pistols still aimed steadily on their target . She shoved another handful of salty , crispy goodness into her mouth. Makenna straightened her back and sat upright , her recently waxed eyebrows lifted to her hairline. She sat there with her mouth agape as chips slipped through the gaps between her slender fingers. It happened so quickly , if she would have blinked she would have missed it. The knife swung forward and sliced the officer's jugular with effortless precision.
Gunfire resonated through the night like a dozen fireworks popping off on the fourth of July. The man held the dying officer's limp body against his own like a shield. Makenna kicked and giggled like a young child , stuffing her face with more deep-fried crisps. He threw the officer's bullet ridden corpse towards the others , knocking two of them backwards on their rumps and sending their weapons flying across the yard. Agile on his feet , he stepped around dead body that laid as still as a statue ; blood seeped through the multiple bullet holes and soaked the soft-soiled ground below. A short , red haired officer aimed her gun at his chest and pulled the trigger , but no bullets left the chamber. She tried again and again. Still , nothing happened. The man stopped Infront of her and those plump lips of his widened into a smile. Before the woman could react , the sharpened metal blade plunged deep into her skull , right between the eyes leaving only the hilt sticking outwards and blood oozing down her face. He didn't bother pulling it free . With one simple push to her shoulder , she toppled over onto the ground. His gaze shifted to the others. Walking towards them , he outstretched his long arms and grasped their hair firmly within his mighty hands and smashed their heads together with brute force , fracturing their skulls. Makenna watched as the man made his way towards the cars, leaving the scattered bodies in the yard behind him and climbed into the driver's side of one of the police cars. Her eyes flickered to the young officer hiding behind it with his hands covering his tear-streaked face. She could of screamed out to him , warned him in someway , but why should she? It wasn't her place to help him. No , she was just a nosey bystander with no life. So , she kept silent and enjoyed the show. The officer turned his head , his body shaking. His eyes widened as he stared directly into the man's soulless eyes as he stared out from the passenger side window. With the sudden thud of a head bouncing off the car door , the officer's body fell limp. The man scooted back into the driver's seat and revved the engine and turned his head. That sharp gaze of his landed on Makenna. She clamped her mouth shut ; her hand stilled within the bag. They stared at one another for what felt like hours. Drive away. Just drive away , damnit. The last thing she needed was for this mad man to get out of the car and turn her into one of his many victims.
"Shall I gouge out his eyes for you?" That deep , hardened voice was one she hadn't heard in quite a long time. Makenna peeked over her shoulder and looked up at the man that haunted her beyond her dreams. He's not real. Keep it together, he's not actually here. Ignore it. She knew he wasn't real. Nothing more than a figment of her mind that had been conjured up to be able to keep her older brother by her side even after death. The sound of more sirens drew her attention away from the hallucination. Her gaze shifted back across the road. The man had disappeared. Although , backup had arrived , it was far too late. The damage was already done. "You can't ignore me forever , Makenna." He crouched beside her ; the ends of his long trench coat splayed out over the blades of grass. Those eerie , glowing amber eyes of his staring straight into her soul. She wasn't going to acknowledge his presence. She couldn't. There was no telling what her neighbors would think of seeing a young woman having a conversation with some invisible being in her yard at nine O'clock at night. Someone that needed to a one-way trip to the looney bin , for sure.
"They have been getting pretty ballsy lately , don't you agree?" Makenna closed her eyes just a tad and rubbed between them with her fingers vigorously as if trying to rid herself of an non-existent migraine. She had to admit though , he was right. Petty thieves playing God and killing whenever they wanted was something that happened a lot these days. They knew even if the law intervened --- just like tonight --- that they couldn't be stopped. killing was a hobby for them. It made them feel empowered. On top of the world , riding off the intense high they get from taking someone's life with their bare hands and sometimes , even their own teeth. "They know they can get away with it . They know the others are watching them. Killers protected by killers." The illusion of her brother stated. Makenna slouched and propped her elbows on her knees , folding her hands and resting her chin on top of them. "You know I'm right. That's why you aren't responding." He chuckled. She rolled her eyes and focused on the black bags being lifted up on gurneys. She contemplated engaging in conversation with the apparition, had questions she was sure he'd have the answers too.
Blowing out a puff of air and groaning , Makenna rolled her head to the side and looked at him. He tilted his head and smirked. "Oh? So , now you want to chit chat?" She stared at him. 'You're dead." He squinted his eyes and stared back at her , and crossed his arms. "You . Are . Dead." She repeated. "Nah dip , sherlock. " He stood and twirled around. The end of his coat glided over the grass. He tapped his black-painted , chipped nails on the worn-out leather belt wrapped snuggly around his waist preventing it those baggy blue jeans he wore from dropping around his ankles. " All this time that I've been waiting for you to speak to me , and the first thing that leaves that pretty mouth of yours is 'You are dead'?" He sighed heavily. "You're not insane , by the way." She blinked. "What?" He leaned down at the waist and his face hovered just above hers. " You've been thinking I was an hallucination , and , that your neighbors would think you've lost your marbles." He waited for her to say something before continuing. She just stared at him. "That's what you been thinking , am I right? You aren't going in insane , dear sister." He felt almost offended that she had thought those things. "I'm real , Kenna. I'm not Casper the friendly ghost." She lifted to her feet , brushing the chip crumbs from her pants , and held the half-eaten bag closed in her hand. "No , no. That's entirely impossible. If you were real , then others would be able to see you as well. Not just me." She squeezed the bag in her hand and sucked in a breath , exhaling it out. "You're dead. MY brother is dead , rotting several feet underground. So , you see , you can't be him. Santiago is nothing but piles of bones. So , it's completely impossible for him to be here and for me to be having a conversation with him. HE IS DEAD!" Makenna didn't care if she caused a scene and attracted attention from the people across the road. This ghastly ghoul was driving her insane.
It was very , very impossible to believe that she was seeing Santiago for real after all these years. That is , as real as he could be for a dead guy. "I'm dead , I don't need to be reminded over and over about it." Her head lolled back as she stared up at the dark sky above her. Tilting her head back down , she looked at him. " If you know you're dead , then why do keep saying you aren't an hallucination?" Makenna shook the bag in her hand and gritted her teeth. Anger boiled within her. " I'm just seeing things that aren't there , that must be the answer to all of this. He's dead. You're probably just some looney that escaped a magical asylum for nut supernatural and paranormal nut jobs or , just a trick of my mind trying to make me lose whatever is left of my sanity." She threw her arms in the air and screamed into the nothingness. " This is all fucking crazy!" She stomped past him and headed towards her front door. Makenna had enough excitement for one night. Her king sized , mahogany bed was calling her name. She was about to enter her house , until she heard them. Their thunderous , creepy laughter reverberated through the neighborhood. They were close by , to close for her comfort. She kept her eyes forward , not daring to search for them within the dark. Taking a deep breath , shuddering breath , she opened the front door and stepped inside , and closed it behind her. She made sure all the seven of the deadbolts were locked , then leaned her forehead against the coolness of the polished hickory and closed her eyes for a brief second.
Makenna laid flat on her back pressed into the thick mattress dressed in thin satin sheets. She was wrapped securely within the heavy , thick comforter with her arms pressed tightly against her chest , elbows digging into her breastbone as she gripped the thick sky-blue fabric tightly within her grasp . Her eyes focused on the glow in the dark stars that surprisingly still held themselves firmly glued to the lightly dust-covered ceiling. The long , velvety satin drapes danced beside her dark , mahogany two-drawer nightstand. The wind from the fast-spinning ceiling fan above encouraged their nightly performance in the darkness of the master bedroom. Makenna strained her ears hoping to hear them , but nothing could be heard besides the sounds of crickets. She closed her eyes tightly shut. Tiny black dots danced within her blackened vison. She squeezed them tighter till pain formed in the crease between her eyes. Rolling on her right side , she opened them and stared across the room where her snow-white , chipped painted makeup vanity stood flat against the dark , grey wall. Makenna eased the comforter up towards her chin and drifted off to sleep.
"Kenna! Come see what I found." His voice sounded from afar. "Don't you think these would look nice in that marbled vase in the kitchen?" She glanced at the herd of horses grazing on the other side of the electric-lined barbwire fence , just a few feet from where she was sitting. Makenna stood from her spot on the soft , grassy floor. Her eyes shifted to her brother. Santiago strode towards her with a bouquet of various colorful flowers in his hand and a wide , toothy grin on his tanned face. His amber eyes glistened under the sun's bright , warm rays of light that showered the land in brightness. The horses behind her neighed and whinnied as he approached. " I found them by the river. Aren't they beautiful?" She stared at the bouquet , various flowers painted in every color of the rainbow where smashed together and held tight within his giant hand. Cuts were etched into his calloused palms from what she presumed was caused by the thorns on the roses. " Do they hurt?" She asked in a soft tone. Her eyes lingered on the small, jagged lashes in his once perfect , smooth skin. Santiago cocked his head to the side , his grin widening. He shook his head lightly and chuckled. Lifting his hand up , he examined the tiny scratches. " These?" She nodded her small head ; strands of golden-brown hair slipped loose from the multi-colored elastic rubber-band that held up her ponytail. Her brother shook his head , " Nah. Not one bit." Her brows knitted together as she stared harder at his palm. "Not even a little?" Makenna silently counted them in her head. Thirteen. That many cuts , and yet he didn't feel them sting or a ounce of pain at all? His hand looked as if a wild animal had snagged it within it's mighty jaw and clamped it's razor sharp teeth down within the skin. Santiago laughed and patted the top of her head. "Nope. Now , forget about these silly little abrasions and answer my question." Makenna blinked. She had forgotten what he had asked her previously.
"What question?" He rolled his eyes and shoved the bouquet into her small hands . " I asked if you think these would look good in the kitchen. Are they beautiful enough?" She glanced down at them. She was going to say yes , of course , until the colors began to fade and the petals started wilting. Makenna was confused. She opened her mouth to ask him what was happening ; her eyes lifted from the colorless bouquet and was met with a pair of glowing yellow eyes within sunken eye sockets of an decaying skull. Jolting upright in bed , she gripped the sheets in terror. Strands of hair stuck to the sides of her face , neck , and back from sweating throughout the night. Another bad dream. She rubbed her tired , puffy bagged eyes and sighed deeply. Makenna fell backwards onto the sweat stained bed and stared up at the ceiling , watching the fan spin round and round in circles. First , she encountered some crazy apparition version of her dead brother and now , she was having those recurring nightmares again. For once , just one time , she wanted to have a peaceful night's rest. She rolled to her left side and faced the wall. Her eyes scanned over the various old band posters that were scattered up and down it . Makenna tapped the side of her skull and groaned out loud. "Stupid brain. Can't you stop with all this nonsense." She twisted her body , reaching for her cellphone that sat on top the nightstand and blinked her eyes to adjust her vision before checking the time on the illuminated , bright phone screen. Five in the morning. She slammed her phone face down on the hard , wooden top and rolled on her stomach. Burying her face into the pillows , she closed her eyes and said a silent prayer for the dreams to end before falling back asleep.