#COLLABS #HORROR-SHORROR #STORYTIME Short Stories

#HORROR-SHORROR: The Killings of Everdale : Chapter 1

We drove inside once the gates opened and carried on driving on a long-winded road. Passing by the millions of Lawson Cypress trees, shrubs trimmed to perfection and a pool the size of a football field, tennis courts that covered the land, we finally reached the first row of houses. We reached house number 13, the place we could finally call home after living with my in-laws for 7 dreadful years.
black metal fence
Taken from Unsplash.com/@littlepineco

We finally arrived at the gate that would open up to a breath-taking community of rich people: Everdale.

The gate was probably made of pure gold and had all sorts of adornments on it. Ranging from angel wings to diamond encrusted spikes on the top.

Our old red and black 1966 Mustang didn’t fit in with this neighbourhood of Rolls-Royces, Mercedes Benzes and other fancy car brands.

Yet, we drove inside once the gates opened and carried on driving on a long-winded road. Passing by the millions of Lawson Cypress trees, shrubs trimmed to perfection and a pool the size of a football field, tennis courts that covered the land, we finally reached the first row of houses.

green leafed plant
Taken from Unsplash.com/ @ivybarn

The houses were all identical – red face brick walls, dark grey roofs, white windows and doors, and yet the only thing that made them different, were the numbers on the houses starting from ‘1’.

We drove slowly down the street, past the identical houses and the few people that we saw outside, either on their porches or tending to their front gardens.

We reached house number 13, the place we could finally call home after living with my in-laws for 7 dreadful years.

We stepped out of our car and looked at the house. It looked like the other houses. Red face brick walls, dark grey roof, etc.

The movers truck stopped behind us and started unloading all of our belongings.

We unlocked the house and stepped inside.

Image taken from a Quora user: https://www.quora.com/How-do-Americans-feel-about-their-houses-being-so-identical-to-one-another

“Oh my gosh, Eileen. This place is better the second time in seeing it”, I said as I stepped closer to my wife.

“I’m sure it will look better with some furniture and our personal touch.”

After half an hour, the movers were done unloading the furniture and putting them where we wanted them to be.

The place looked amazing… even better with all of our stuff in it. Finally… our place.

Knock knock.

We turned to the door and I opened it, seeing a young couple standing with cookies in their hands.

“Hello neighbour!” chirped the woman.

“It’s nice to see that we are not the only young-ish couple here”, giggled the woman again.

“Oh how rude of us to not introduce ourselves. I’m Bruce and this is my wife Mary. We live across the road at number 12”, said the man with a friendly smile.

Houses with the number 13 sell for less in many parts of the ...
Taken from thejournal.ie

“Ah, yes, hey there. We didn’t expect to get visitors so soon”, I said jokingly.

“I’m Andrew and this is my wife Eileen. We’re from Pine Springs and we decided that it was time to finally move out of Eileen’s parents’ house.”

“Well it was nice meeting you both. We’d love to catch up with you guys some other time, right? I’m sure you guys need to get settled in first”, said Mary.

“Maybe we can talk tomorrow, since it’s the weekend and you guys can just come over around noon-ish?”

“Ummmm we’re bu-“

“Yes sure! We’ll see you guys tomorrow at your place and we’ll bring some goodies with”, Eileen said excitedly.

“Alright then! See you tomorrow neighbours!” Bruce and Mary said as they walked to their house.

Eileen returned inside, but I decided to stay standing there on the front porch, gazing at the pinkish sky and sunset.

“I’m sure we’ll like this place and the people that live here as well”

grass field
Taken from Unsplash.com/@directedbyshawn

I woke up to my wife shaking me and shouting my name.

“Andrew!”

“Wha-what’s wrong? Why did you wake me?”

I looked past her to the window and saw the flashing of red and blue lights outside.

“Honey? Why are the police here? Don’t they know it’s four in the morning?”

I looked at my wife and she seemed eager to see what was happening outside.

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I got out of our bed and went to the window. I saw a crowd placed outside of Bruce and Mary’s place.

I wonder what happened?

I stepped away from the window and grabbed my jacket hanging behind the door. My wife, grabbing her gown and phone, followed after me out the bedroom, down the stairs and out the front door.

We made sure to lock the door behind us and walked across the street.

Taken from Pinterest.com/http://grandrapidsusedcars.pfeiffer84th

As we got closer to the house, we heard some people in the crowd crying. Some whispers of “they were too young to leave”, and others asking why someone would do that.

As we neared the front of the crowd, we saw some of the people that were at the pool and tennis courts we drove past, as well as the people that were on their porches.

We wondered why they were there until we looked at the scene in front of us: Bruce’s body slumped against the door with a knife wedged into his chest, and Mary’s body strewn across the walkway of their garden, faced down with huge slashes on her back.

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There was something carved onto Bruce’s forehead. It was bloody but one could make out the words written on it.

Annoying.

“Oh lord” my wife said once she saw the scene in front of her.

She hugged me tighter and hid her crying face into my chest. I stroked her back and whispered comforting words.

I couldn’t look away from the scene in front of me.

Why did this happen? I was supposed to speak to them later that day over coffee and get to know them. Why? Why did someone do this to the friendlie-

Annoying.

I looked around at who could’ve said that.

Annoying.

There. I heard it again. Who said that? Why are they saying that?

They were so annoyingly nice.

I stopped looking for the voice, only to realise it was my own. Why was I saying that?

It’s good that they’re gone. We don’t have to deal with any annoying people anymore. It’s time you looked at the dried blood on your hands now, Andrew. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha…

What? Dried blood? I looked at my hands that were around my wife only to notice the stickiness of them. I brought the one hand up and sniffed it.

Dried blood.

[To be continued]

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