At midnight, a vague sense of unease prompted her to investigate the dark hallway. But as the new governess passed the twins’ room, she heard voices speaking an unfamiliar tongue.
Looking through the keyhole, she froze, unbelieving. The twins were holding hands, walking backwards, and chanting, in unison, strange utterances. There were indiscernible chalk markings on the floor. Their stark, white nightshirts were streaked with something dark and red; their clasped hands covered in it.
Their new pet, their father’s gift from abroad, lay on the floor, unmoving.
She gasped. The twins’ attention snapped to the keyhole…
© Copyright 2016 Sirius Bonner. All rights reserved.
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Sirius Bonner: Professional Oppression Fighter, Mom, Writer, Knitter, Badass
Carl burst through the door and ran down the slope. “Get! It’s not safe!” he yelled.
Fits of laughter exploded and children ran in every direction.
Why do kids always ignore posted signs? Carl sighed. Can’t they see the cracks? Or is it their nature to flirt with danger?
With slow, deliberate steps he traced the scattered tracks and deep spider veins at his feet. Kneeling, he brushed the sleet aside. Revealed the hard iced lake beneath. The surface was cloudy, yet clear enough to see within its depth. Still there, her frozen face stared up at him, unblinking.
© Copyright 2016 Debra Kristi. All rights reserved.
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Debra Kristi lives in sunny California with her husband, two kids, and four schizophrenic cats. Unlike the characters she often writes, Debra is not immortal and her only superpower is letting the dishes and laundry pile up. When not writing, she is usually creating memories with her family, geeking out to sci-fi and fantasy television, and tossing out movie quotes.