THUD!

 

SMASH!

 

SMASH!

 

THUD!

 

SMASH!

 

DRAG! DRAG! DRAG!

 

A bloody mess. A pool of coagulated blackness leading towards a trail of fresh red. The trail of blood snaked along the corridor, through the doorway, and into the room of green.

 

A piece of metal struck into the vegetation, grass and dirt tossed about like a salad. Soon, a small pit came to light. Dragging sounds could be heard as a lump of useless flesh was thrown into the hole.

 

Minutes later, the perpetrator left the garden, leaving behind a sloppily filled grave. The corpse partially in with limbs sticking out grotesquely.

 

All that could be heard was silence, all that could be seen was darkness, and all that could be felt was coldness.

 

***

 

A little over an hour ago….

 

Following Paul, John walked into the room with wonderment in his eyes. He stared at the plethora of broken stone statues and marble head busts, wondering what had happened to the room. Even if this was a dream, why did they dream about shattered statues in a new house?

 

Suddenly, he felt an itch on the side of his neck. John reached up and smacked his neck. A mosquito? Probably something from the garden. Feeling the itch dissipate, John removed his hand and looked at his palm.

 

Nothing.

 

Must have been his imagination.

 

As John looked around, he heard a rustle ahead of him. Turning to look, he gasped in horror. Something…someone was grabbing his brother by the neck!

 

At first, the young boy was frightened. However, he remembered how his mother always told him to look after and protect his younger siblings as it was the duty of the older brother. Chasing away his fears and steeling his determination, John grabbed a large chunk of a broken sculpture and slowly approached the unknown entity.

 

“Let…go…of…Paul!” John roared and smashed the stone onto the mysterious figure’s head.

 

The first hit knocked out the victim, who released its hold of Paul. As the unknown figure struggled to get up in its dazed state, John struck once more. This time, the second hit tore flesh and drew blood.

 

Without giving the mysterious figure any chance of respite, John raised up the bloodied stone and smashed it down at the wounded spot again. The third hit punctured through flesh and shattered bone.

 

Spurred by the craze of the moment and the unfamiliar emotions that swirled inside of him, John struck once again. The fourth hit pulverized visceral tissue, splattering bits and pieces everywhere.

 

The victim struggled and gasped. It reached out with somewhat familiarity before its eyes glazed and its last breath exhaled. This unknown figure’s hand slumped down to the side. It had died.

 

For a split moment, John thought he saw Paul’s face on the unknown figure. But that couldn’t be right since Paul was standing right behind him.

 

“Trying to trick me?” John muttered; his heart stirred weirdly with anger.

 

The boy raised the bloodied stone and struck once more for good measure. Throwing away the murder weapon, John reached over and grabbed the corpse by one arm. Meanwhile, his brother had appeared by his side like a ghost and grabbed the corpse’s other arm.

 

The two children dragged the body along the corridor and into the garden with some effort before dumping it to the side. Paul somehow found a shovel and handed it to John, who proceeded to dig a small hole behind some flowery bushes.

 

The body was dumped into the small pit and covered with loose dirt. Though it was sloppily covered, John didn’t have the time to clean up the mess when his brother called him over to play. It was strange though.

 

It was strange that despite what John had experienced so far, there was not a shred of discomfort or guilt or even fear. Everything seemed so natural. It was also strange that there was no reaction from Paul either. By now, he’d have puked all over the place.

 

Maybe Paul was like him emotionally since they were both in a dream…or at least, that’s what their father and mother told them. Even though everything felt so real. Although John didn’t feel anything for what he had done, he couldn’t help but grimace slightly. Something somewhere deep within him felt a sense of…loss.

 

But before he could muse over it, Paul appeared before him with a faint smile. “Brother, let’s go play!”

 

“How can you think about playing when we still need to find mother and Mary.” John reprimanded as he gently tapped Paul’s head with his knuckles.

 

Paul grabbed his head and bent down as if in pain. But when John worriedly checked on him, the younger brother looked up mischievously and revealed a devious smile. It seemed that Paul was just playing a trick on him, but that glint in his eyes seemed to irk John a little more than it should.

 

“Fine.” Paul nodded and pointed at the door leading to the room with the billowing smoke. “Let’s go through that door. I think the smoke should be gone by now.”

 

“How can you be so sure?” John asked.

 

“Guessed it.” Paul stuck out his tongue playfully.

 

John slowly opened the door a crack and peeked in. As Paul had guessed, the smoke was gone. The two boys walked into the room and hurried towards the other doorway aside from the one leading to the entrance hall.

 

Just as John was about to reach for the doorknob, Paul suddenly stopped him. “Wait, let’s go through the other door.”

 

“Why?” John asked curiously. “Isn’t this where mother and Mary went through?”

 

“But how can we be sure? Maybe they went through this door instead? It was hard to see where we were going after all. The same could be said for them.” Paul displayed his deductive abilities.

 

“And if we can’t find them?” John asked probingly.

 

“Then, let’s find pops. We should leave it to him instead.” The younger child replied.

 

“Pops?” John questioned as he wasn’t familiar with this term.

 

“Father, I mean.” Paul caught himself and rephrased.

 

“Hmm, with father around, it’ll be much safer. Alright, let’s go find father.” John nodded as the two children exited the stone tiled room.

 

As they walked into the foyer, Paul asked John where he thinks his father might be. Initially, John believed that his father might have taken the door on the right, but he recalled hearing his voice to the left.

 

After some pondering, John decided to go to the right. Even if they couldn’t find their father, they could at least find Abel and Madeline. As John approached the door, Paul suddenly called out to him.

 

“W-What? What happened?” John turned his head quizzically.

 

“I think I heard our father talking downstairs.” Paul looked at John with a certain gaze.

 

“Downstairs? In the basement?” John walked over and looked down the dark stairway.

 

“Yeah, should we go down and have a look?” Paul suggested.

 

“I don’t know…it’s kinda dark down there. You sure you heard father’s voice?” John asked hesitantly.

 

“Definitely! When have I ever lied to you?” Paul patted his chest with confidence.

 

John peered down the stairs once more before holding up his hand towards his brother. “Paul, hand me a lamp.”

 

“Sure thing.” Paul nodded as he approached John from behind.

 

Before the older boy could react, Paul reached out with both hands and pushed him down the stairs. John gaped in brief surprise before screaming in pain and shock. The boy tumbled down what seemed to be an endless set of stairs before crashing bloodily at the bottom.

 

Blood spewed out of his many wounds and seeped into the wooden floor. John, or rather, his broken and battered body laid sprawled on the cold floor as purplish fog drifted about aimlessly. Pain, bafflement, and sin accumulated within the body.

 

As the soul left the body, revealing its tainted blackness, ‘Paul’ floated down the steps and grabbed the soul, preventing it from being absorbed into the purplish haze. The young child’s face flickered and blurred while his body grew more and more transparent.

 

In a matter of seconds, what was once Paul’s face had morphed…or rather reversed back into an unknown feature. The supernatural entity was a ghostly grudge formed from the chaotic emotions of the deceased in which it originated from – an unknown skeleton buried beneath the mansion.

 

“Come play with me!” The ghost cackled as it watched John’s soul shape and twist into a humanoid outline.

 

Since evil and sin coincided with power, the more taint consolidating within the soul, the more power it could contain and use. Soon, a familiar figure replaced the outline. It was John.

 

“Come play with me!” The ghost twirled in front of the newly-formed ghost, a mysterious smile plastered on its face, before disappearing into the darkness. “Let’s play tag! Come catch me!”

 

“Okay!” The second ghost grinned as it too disappeared into the darkness.