Doors forcibly slammed, while four residents exited the convertible. Two sisters, similar features with the same glossy ocean hues, blonde hair bouncing with such grace despite the absolute no effort put in them. A muscular man in mid-forties, hair barely thinning while the beginning of a beard showing on his facial features, as his blond hair was decently messy. Emerald orbs staring toward the house displayed in front of them all, eyes dull without a spec of emotion. His height like a skyscraper compared to the other three females by his sides. A round women with curly hair similar toward the two younger girls, yet a dark shade of chestnut brown. Face coated with all types of concealers and powder, the strong smell of perfume overwhelming everyones sense of smell.
“We’re seriously going to live here?” The man inquired, eyes shifting toward the plump woman who’s practically beaming with joy. Oblivious to the distaste her husband showed, heels clicking noisily as she sauntered to the trunk, popping it open.
She nodded, hauling two bags over her shoulder, a wide grin causing her dimples to show off. “Yes, we are Robert. The move is great for us, the house is ginormous!” Ignoring the huff of protest, the women ushered her daughters to grab their bags, they did without a hint of protest. The sibling with a curvy figure seemed more uncertain, while the other blocked out all of her worries since her mothers words reassured her.
“Emma, be a dear and help your sister Amanda with her bags, she’s struggling.” Rolling her eyes, though Emma nodded nonetheless before assisting her sibling with the overly heavy bags. Gaping at her eldest sibling, who smiled sheepishly in response.
The house isn’t one of those old, rickety places that look like it’ll collapse any minute. In fact, it practically looked brand new, maybe a few chips in the paint, other than that there’s nothing much that displayed any signs of aging. The white paint practically causing the household to glow, yet the vibe didn’t sit well with the father.
Glancing toward his wife, gaze finally softening to allow the worry to be visible. “Hun, I don’t think this place is the one for us, can we just stay for a few days and see how everyone feels?”
A hushed sigh left the women in her early thirties, debating until finally giving into the males pleas.
He gave his thanks, before taking half of the bags for her, kissing her cheek. “Maybe you’ll be right Mary, this place may surprise us. We’ll just have to wait and see. . .” He mumbled to her quietly, she allowed herself to smile at her lover, before brushing him off to enter the house.
Amanda set down her bags on the floor, glancing around at the room she went into. The walls were a dim shade of pink, while some old furniture remained, an ugly brown rocking chair, along with a pastel pink rug on the floor, she wasn’t a huge fan of the color, though it’s not her main worries. Pushing open the closet, while her breath got taken away by the dust that swarmed around her. Coughing for a moment, swatting at nothing until she could have a deep breath of air.
“The place needs to be cleaned, but it’s decently nice despite that.” She hummed, taking one of her bags to fill her closet with her clothing.
Emma entered her own space two rooms down, setting down boxes, wiping some sweat off her forehead due to the heat of no air conditioner within the house. The rooms walls were an ashen grey, nothing in the room except a small couch which was ebony, made of leather. A frown made its way onto her lips, brows furrowing.
An uneasy sensation caused a shudder to erupt from her, biting her lower lip as she got out a sleeping bag. The moving trucks aren’t going to be here until tomorrow, so this is the best she has. All the family members have one, a thing that assists them to cope with not having any of their things temporarily.
Time continued on, eventually the sun began to lower, allowing the entire house to be filled with darkness. Though, the lights of candles helped them, since the lightbulbs were inside the boxes with the trucks.
Silently flipping through a magazine, eyes fluttering due to sleep starting to get to the daughter. She’s been avoiding sleep, as the watch on her wrist read ‘1:35 am’. Emma bit her lip, pondering for a moment until she finally placed the magazine down, letting herself drift off.
Drowsily the blonde awoke from her slumber, a faint sound causing her to stir at first, until it began to grow more audible is when she forced herself to sit up. Flickering her focus on the watch, seeing how only two hours passed.
She sighed, confused toward why she isn’t hearing anything anymore. Maybe she dreamt it? A minute passed, absolute silence except for the branch tapping against the window a couple feet away.
Shaking her head, before allowing herself to lay down onto her side. Silently questioning her own mind, the sound could have been created due to paranoia of being in a new house. It seemed possible, along with logical as well. Shaking it off, Emma attempted to fall back asleep.
. . Screech. . . Screech. . .
She felt her eyes snap open, the sound of nails scrapping against the walls allowing her to realize it definitely isn’t her mind screwing around.
As soon as it came, the sound came to a sudden stop. Breathing uneven, panic bubbling within her, overwhelming her mind to try thinking of a better explanation.
Yanking her sleeping-bag to cover her entire face, eyes squeezing shut. She began to quiver and quake, petrified of what the horrid sound is. Her lips began to part, about to cry out for her mother and father, the feeling of being utterly venerable was intoxicating.
The sensation of a hand covered her mouth, muffling her shrieks of terror, it began to drag her out of the sleeping bag, not fazed by her squirming figure. She hollered to the point her voice began to get horse, yet unheard by the other residents of the household. The smell of burning flesh was the only thing the hand smelled like, the stench enough to make her vomit. It’s skin black like an eternal abyss, long grimy nails piercing into her face.
She flailed, attempting to escape the claws of this inhumane being. Her own hands attempting to tear the fingers away from her face. Yet to no avail, only murky green ink poured out when she sunk her own nails into the flesh, if one could call it that.
Gagging at the smell, screaming to the high heavens for some help or a miracle. “Help me! Please, oh God! Let go, let go!” Her cries were barely more than a hoarse way of speaking. The crimson liquid oozing from her face, sobbing heavily as the hand yanked her head into the vent, tugging her body down.
“No! No! Stop!” The creature showed no mercy, once her feet were hidden away by the vent, the hand released her. Soft sobs left her, relieved it let her go. Maybe she can get out?
The hands fingers curled around her right wrist, sinking it’s nails into her like butter. She began to shout in agonizing pain, as it began to tug. Her socket popped out of place, causing another shriek from the poor girl with a tragic fate.
Her entire hand got ripped off, showing nothing but muscle, flesh and bone. She stared, ocean blue eyes becoming dimmer by the second. She couldn’t even yell anymore, whimpers leaving her lips once the hand began to do the same thing to her other hand.
By the time her left hand got removed, she was only a soulless corpse. Limp, withering away with such slowness.
Amanda yawned, rising up from her peaceful slumber. Hurriedly rushing to put some clothing on, merely a grey t-shirt with blue jeans before running down the stairs. The faint smell of eggs and bacon taking over her thoughts of checking on her sister.
Seeing her father cooking, she smiled and waved to him. “Morning, dad!” He turned to her, nodding in response before counting with cooking. After getting a plate, she got herself some orange juice, as they managed to bring some in little containers and kept them in a cooler. Sitting on the floor, as the kinky things they have are just counters, cupboards, and an oven with a pan.
The three ate, not discouraged by Emma not with them all. She usually sleeps in, it’s nothing unusual.
Time went on, until things took a turn for the worst. Knocking on Emma’s door, Amanda didn’t get a response. Brows furrowed in confusion, she opened it to find her sibling not there. A few spots of blood on the wooden floor, also on the sleeping bag.
Immediately, panic set in. “Mom, dad! Emma’s not here!” Once those words left her lips, the entire family went in a frenzy, searching high and low, yet the dear daughter could not be found.
Through the mothers sobs, she called the police and filed a report for her missing daughter. The entire atmosphere in the house was eerie, completely hallow without their beloved child. Amanda stayed in her sisters room, hues empty due to already crying her tears away earlier. How could this happen, did she hate it here so much she ran away?
Disbelief set in, as Emma never seemed to be that type of person, could she have been kidnapped? If so, she’d make whoever did it regret their decision for eternity.
Hours went by fast, the despair allowed time to pass quicker. Amanda curled herself up in her own sleeping bag, staring at the ceiling above her. Tiredness began to seep in, until her mind completely decided to shut down.
“. . .Amanda. . . Amandaaa. . .”
Faint, familiar whispers began to fill the females ears, eventually forcing her to awaken. The air around her felt like ice, similar to being inside a large freezer. Goosebumps covered her entire arms, shudders going through her.
The sounds came to a stop once her eyes peeled open, it ended up causing her to wonder if she’s losing it after her sister went missing.
“. . Amanda. . .”
Her ears picked up a voice, though it’s tone nothing but a hushed whisper. Raspy, as if whoever this was hadn’t drank anything in days. However, she could still recognize who’s voice it is. She’s been thinking of all the moments she’s had with Emma, realization set in for her, eyes widening to the point of being bug-eyed.
“Emma? Emma, come out! Where are you? This isn’t funny. . !” She whisper-shouted, relief taking its course, believing her sister returned to wherever she went off to.
One second passes, than five, until two full minutes go by. The elder sister concerned for her siblings safety and health, waited with barely any patience remaining. Right when she got ready to speak, the familiar voice already spoke before she gotten the chance.
“. . . Go to. . The vent. . .” Those words were all she heard Emma say, shuffling out of her sleeping-bag nervously. Why did her sister want to go toward the vent? It didn’t make any sense for her, she crawled toward it on all fours. Ignoring the lump in her throat, at the sight of her sisters watch beside it, stained with red liquid. Taking notice to the screws no longer remaining, she took off the hood of the vent.
Peering in, Amanda spoke quietly inside. “Emma? Are you in here. . ?” Suddenly, a hand grabbed a fist full on her hair, another wrapped around her neck. She gasped, mouth open to call for help, yet her windpipe getting blocked out resulted in her not being able to do so. Her arms and legs painfully scrapped against the vents metal walls, her vision blurring. She could see the hands, they were bloody, bruised, with parts of raw flesh poking out on the knuckles. Despite that, the appearance of the hands isn’t what scared her, not even in the slightest.
It’s the fact that they aren’t connected to anything. Only the ends of the wrists remained, chunks of meat dangling, the bone easily visible.
It didn’t take long until Amanda couldn’t remain awake, passing out due to the lack of oxygen. The last thing she felt excruciating pain in her wrists, before all went dark. For her, she died in her unconscious state instead of from the blood loss of her own hands getting removed. Poor Amanda, if only she knew what fate she’d endure because of the voice she believed was her sibling.
Unfortunately, it was not. Only the soul mended into doing what *it*wants. A puppet controlled by its master, no longer having any emotions or care for family.
The husband and wife wake up, checking up on their daughter, only to find her gone as well. Mary in hysterics at the realization both of her babys were gone now, while Robert choked back his own tears to comfort his wife, before calling the police to report another missing child.
After two officers entered the house, the sheriff shook his head slowly, almost in a saddened manner. “I’m sorry for this, but there’s absolutely nothing we can do except search.” Hearing that along made the mother blow up, grabbing the man by the collar of his shirt.
“You have to do something! Those are my kids out there, lost and alone!” She exclaimed in his face, only to be pulled away by her husband while sobbing in his grasp. The two men left, mumbling their apologizes.
All the parents did was watch past videos of their precious daughters, eyes watering till the point they’re crying without noticing.
“Mommy, daddy. . . Help us. .” Two voices caused them to snap out of their trances, pausing the films. Hope filled the married couple, are their children truly alright? Holding hands, along with their own breaths, the two waited together.
Shakily, Robert spoke in a uncertain tone. “Girls? Are. . Are you here?” It only took a few seconds before getting a response, making the mom gasp at their words.
“. .We want to get out. . . Go to the vents. . Daddy, it’s cold. . . So very cold. . .” The voices said simultaneously, the parents rushed to the vents. Two of them both on opposite sides of the living room, removing the nails from the vents in a rush.
Through her tears, Mary barely managed to mumble. “We’re coming! Hold on!” She pried the vent open, not sparing a single thought as she began to work her way into the vent, struggling due to it being a little squeeze. Robert didn’t utter a word, only glancing at his wife for a moment.
After entering the vent, the woman didn’t hear anything other than the sounds of nails scratching against the mental walls, along with the faint taps. Out of nowhere, a rotten hand with bugs crawling on it was crawled into her mouth, right before she prepared to shout to her daughters. It went down her throat, choking her. Eyes bulging, clutching onto her throat and trying to yank it out, only to feel another hand grab onto her wrist. Gurgles left her lips, though not very loud ones.
“Mary? Sweetheart, are you oka- holy shit!” The male began to move away from the vent he got prepared to enter, only to be grabbed by the ear and dragged back. He screamed, only to be shut up by a slap to the face by another one that’s crawling around him. Going to his throat and beginning to pierce his flesh, blood running down his neck and his shirt stained with it. His eyes rolled back into his head, unable to live anymore due to blood loss and pain.
Nothing more but dead corpses, their hands removed by the larger hand, the one that started all this, only to finish it. The parents hands crawled to the dead bodies, to pull them back into the vents in order to be unseen forever.
The Hand left this house, off to find more victims to feed off of. The souls remained within the house, the entity ignoring their shrieks to be brought with.
Days went by, turning to months, to years. No one questioned the families disappearance, since not a single person remembers them. The once stunningly gorgeous house now old and molded, as fire began to wrap it’s heated blanket around it. Getting burnt down to the ground, no one being able to hear the souls heart wrenching shrieks of continuous pain as the fire burned the spirits of the family alive.