Something wasn't right. He could feel it.
Marlin Burns sat up, eyes squinting against the darkness of his bedroom. Coral shifted in the sheets beside him, breathing deeply. He grinned down at his sleeping wife, watching as the moonlight caught her orange hair.
A soft crying came from the other room. The babies, of course.
Having given birth to quadruplets only a month ago, the couple was constantly running around, busy as ever. They were all born with the same freckles and orange hair, just like their parents, and it made him proud.
He swung his legs off the bed and crept into the nursery. Three boys were all sound asleep except one, who was whining and kicking in the crib.
He reached down and lifted the little guy from the bed. "Hey, what's up, sport?" He gently bounced him up and down and chuckled. "Marlin Jr."
Marlin had tried to name at least one of the boys Marlin Jr., but Coral argued that it was boring and unoriginal, and would have none of it. She had named this one Nemo.
Nemo had finally fallen asleep, but the bad feeling remained. As he set him back in bed, he looked around. Went out to the hall, down the stairs. Something definitely didn't feel right, but he couldn't see anything out of place.
Trudging into the kitchen, he poured himself a glass of water and plopped down on a barstool.
A hand was suddenly on his shoulder and he started.
"Hey, calm down there, detective." It was only Coral, who was standing behind him, draping her arms around his neck. "What're doing up so early?"
Marlin didn't want to alarm her, so he went for unconvincing. "Couldn't sleep."
"Ah, sure," She responded. "I like to see you taking care of the boys."
"Yeah, sure. Although I'm still aiming for Marlin Jr., you know, whether we already signed the birth certificate or not."
Coral huffed and laid her head on his shoulder. "Men. No fun."
Marlin might have argued further, but he didn't feel like it. He still felt on edge.
"Coral, I feel like something's wrong," He said.
His wife lifted her head from his shoulder and pulled him to his feet. "Listen, I know you're stressing over all the kids and work and FBI... classified stuff—" Marlin started to say something but she put a finger to his mouth. "—But I think you should just relax. Enjoy this life we've built together. It's everything we ever wanted, right?"
Marlin nodded and she smiled. "Good,"
A gun cocked. The voice of a person, not Coral.
Coral's face paled. Marlin's gut twisted.
"Don't move," It was the voice. A man walked in front of them, a mask over his face and a pistol aimed at Coral's head.
Marlin gripped her hand. "Who are you? What are you here for?"
"Never mind. Now let's go upstairs, shall we?"
He flicked his gun towards the stairs, and Marlin went up, squeezing Coral close to his side.
He guided them into Marlin's office. The intruder tossed him a long zip tie and nodded to the metal desk. Coral had nailed it to the floor after reading blog articles on baby-proofing your house. "Go ahead," He ordered. "No need to waste any lives."
The gun was still aimed at Coral, so he kneeled and started tying his wrist down. Tightening the bonds with his teeth, his looked back up at the man. "What is it you want?"
"I think you know who I am," He replied. "Do you remember Sydney?"
Suddenly grabbing Coral's arm, he put his gun to her head and pulled the trigger.
A shot echoed out. Marlin heard only a ringing in his ears as his wife's body crumpled to the floor, staining the carpet crimson. He couldn't hear his own screams and curses as he strained at the zip tie around his wrist. He didn't feel as it bit into his skin.
The man turned around and walked through the halls, overturning furniture and breaking windows. Marlin dug through the drawers in the desk, found a pair of kiddie scissors. As he cut the bonds, he heard a gunshot.
Oh no. Not them, too. Marlin thought as he sprinted down the hall and into the bedroom. The man was leaning over the four cribs, gun in hand.
It took only three shots. Three shots and his children were dead. And he was starting with the last one, the one Coral had called Nemo.
Marlin froze on his tracks as the man pulled out a knife.
"Let's take care of this one in a more creative way, shall we?"
"Please. He's all I'll have left," Marlin was almost sobbing.
"Exactly," The murderer responded, lifting his knife.
Suddenly the room was full of blue light. Sirens wailed outside. The neighbors must have heard the gunshots and called the police.
The man lowered his knife. "May we meet again, Detective Burns. We haven't forgotten the incident at Sydney."
He ran and crashed through the window, out of view.
Marlin didn't care about trying to catch him. He didn't care about how this man seemed to know him and the mistake he had made several years ago in Australia. He ran out into the hall and fell down next to his wife, gathering her body in his arms and sobbing into her blood-stained hair.
Officers were running up the stairs, yelling and checking all the rooms. He ignored them all, just holding his wife-- his best friend who had gone in just a second.