The Massacre

            The cluster of Loblolly pines stood dignified as the roosting bluebirds struggled to settle on its branches. They chirped in a singsong tune. The juniors huddled on the lower branches whilst the elders fluttered their cobalt blue wings and hovered over the gushing river below. The chilly water cascaded and lapped against the rocks and boulders, gently polishing them. Yet somehow, the bottle green moss had managed to grip on and create a blanket over them.

            Millie watched the jovial family of squirrels chasing one after another, playing hide and seek. Meanwhile the white mice scuttled about the gooseberry bushes. Her attention was undivided until the pleasant smell of blueberry pie wafted into her nose from a nearby cottage. Her eyes were then glued to a clumsy duck with her brood on tow. Oh, how they reminded her of her own family.

            Sundays. Every Sunday, her mom would drag the whole family to church and her blueberry pie was the only reason she would drag herself out of bed. ‘How was I to know that would be the last words I would tell her?’ Millie tormented herself with remorse. Anyway, how was she to know? She was just being a nineteen year old brat who wanted to join her friends for a getaway.

            “I hate you!” Millie recalled her parting words to her mom, furious as she stepped out and slammed the front door. How she wished she could erase those words. She couldn’t understand it. She was barely gone for half an hour to ease her nerves by taking a walk around the neighborhood. How could it have happened so fast?

She still could remember hearing the sirens and walking back home. Amidst the flashing lights of the patrol car, policemen and the paramedics were rushing in and out. The gruesome sight of her whole family brutally murdered and scattered around the house was etched in her memory. If only she could turn back time.

She knew she had to be careful. Whoever did this would want to finish the job. For now, her best friend’s summer home was her only place of refuge.

Underneath the Surface- A Short Story

Below me, the water was cold and deep. Bravely, I took the plunge and sliced my way through the deep blue waters. As I descended lower, the final traces of light disappeared, leaving me momentarily in pitch darkness. Although I wanted to turn back, I couldn’t because a very reliable source had given me a tip on the exact coordinates of K8, the mysterious submarine that disappeared a century ago.

With my diving lights on, I surveyed the Kara Bay but there was no trace of any submarine. However, as I swam back to the surface, I realized that there were a few flickering lights and a strobe light that seemed to be sending signals. Curious, I headed for what seemed like a side entrance of the small, square metallic structure.

Once inside, I saw a room that was fitted with electronic gadgets and devices. Two lanky figures in lab coats were busy working on something. On closer inspection, I saw that the alien- like figures were actually dissecting a human and placing the organs into glass jars. My mouth gaped open as they inserted a chip into the human’s heart. There was a noise before the dissected human sat upright.

His eyes darted towards me, fixed for a brief moment and he rasped, “Oh look, we have another visitor.” The two aliens turn behind and waltzed towards me. At that point, I knew that I was doomed. The figure with an enormous head came to me and injected a green, thick liquid into my head. I felt my energy zapping away and I the last thing I remembered is that I was collapsing onto the floor.

The next thing I knew was that I was swimming back to the surface with my head throbbing. 

A Lesson to Remember

The hot afternoon sun blazed through the canopy of trees and rays of sunlight filtered through the dense vegetation. Even the animals had gone into hiding, away from the blistering sun. Yet, Aurushi and Akash were unwavering in their meditation even though the walnut tree under which they sat, barely provided them a decent shade.

Today is their eleventh day in the forest. They left their monastery in search of inner peace and were promised to be met by their sage. Not a leaf moved as the wind refused to blow its cool breeze. Suddenly, they heard the twigs breaking and the leaves rustling. A frail boy appeared and pleaded for some water.

Akash immediately warned Aurushi, “We don’t know when our sage will arrive. We might not have enough water, so…” he turned towards the boy and tried to shoo him away. Aurushi’s heart sank. She could not bear the sight of the heat-tormented boy and refused to ignore him. Her humanity was stronger than her own survival, so she poured him her share of the water for the day into a wooden cup.

To their surprise, the young boy drank to the last drop and returned the cup to Aurushi. “What?” she exclaimed in shock, looking at the cup filled to the brim.

The young boy smiled and revealed his true form. It turned out that he was the wise sage they had been waiting for. He bestowed blessings and timeless wisdom upon Aurushi and promised her that her cup will never run dry. Before walking away, he told Akash that God is formless and you should see God in everyone and anyone.

A Horror Story - The Town's Secret

“Where on earth have you been? I have been worried sick!” Mrs Di Laurentis looked worried as Wren walked in with a brown paper bag overflowing with groceries. “Mum, I’m almost 18! I can handle myself!” and started stocking up the fridge.

                        

That afternoon, Wren left a note on the kitchen counter that he was stepping out about some college application and headed out to meet Toby Cavanough. They took the bus number 27B to Riverdale College. As the driver turned into Walner Street and drove past the houses, the boys couldn’t help noticing Mrs Marin sitting by the porch, sipping her iced tea. She had snow-white hair and the iciest blue eyes with which she cast them a spine-chilling glare. Her gaze was fixed on them, even if the bus faded into the distance. They looked away.

                        

“Hi, I’m Spencer Hastings, a senior here. I’ll be helpin-” the skinny girl in a blue sweatshirt paused a moment without finishing her sentence. Wren observed her lower lip quivering and immediately pointed to a different senior in a different table.

                        

“Hi, I’m Emily Fields and I will be helping you with your college application,” said the girl at the table. She looked a little frightened but still advised him anyway. Wren wondered why they were all so afraid of him. As he was leaving, Wren heard Emily talking to Spencer about some kind of sign and what had happened 18 years ago.

                        

What happened 18 years ago was history in the small town of Riverdale. It was never really clear, but Wren had enough. He wanted to know what happened 18 years ago that made the whole town shut up. He and Toby tried to figure it out and even asked their own parents but no to avail. They just changed the topic.

                        

On the way to Toby’s house the next morning, Wren saw police outside of Mrs Marin’s house. Her corpse, which had a stab in the stomach, was being carried out into a minivan for investigation. Wren tried to ask Officer Holbrook to let them see the house but he wouldn’t let them. “It’s not important,” he shrugged. Wren managed to sneak in the house and saw that there were signs drawn on the walls messily in blood. “She must have done this when she was murdered! This was the sign Spencer and Emily were talking about yesterday,” Wren thought to himself.

                                                                              §

                        

Two days later, Wren woke up to a birthday banner and breakfast in bed from his mum. “Happy 18^th Birthday!” she said as she kissed him on the forehead. He thanked her and had some quality time with her till the evening. Mrs Di Laurentis said that she had to go for a work dinner with her boss and staff.

                        

Wren was really bored that night so he decided to clean up the house. He took all the boxes filled with books and placed them in the attic. Once the attic was filled up, there was no more space to keep things so he went down to the basement, which he had not been to for years. As he carried the heavy boxes into the crammed, damp basement, he heard loud chants. He tried to hear where they were coming from. He stumbled upon a lid of a trapdoor. “I didn’t know we had a trapdoor,” he thought to himself. He opened the lid and walked down the old, creaky wooden steps.

                        

The moment he stepped in, he saw that it had been transformed into a dimly lit chamber. He saw his mum, Officer Holbrook and nearly quarter the small town sitting in a big circle with the sign Mrs Marin drew on the walls of her home the night she was murdered. There was also a big fire at the edge of the chamber. The moment they acknowledged Wren’s presence, silence fell across the room. “You have finally come,” Mrs Di Laurentis boomed. “We have been waiting for you for 18 years. Now is finally the time!”

                        

Wren was confused. “18 years ago, we created a monster from this symbol, you, and you terrified all the people in this town. This whole town agreed to never tell anybody about this, and if they did, they would be settled, like Mrs Marin,” she snorted. Wren was shocked. He now understood why Mrs Marin would always stare at him, why Spencer and Emily was so scared of him and even why Officer Holbrook didn’t allow him to go in the house.

 “To keep you under control, every week we had to chant together to this powerful symbol. After 18 years, exactly on your birthday, we will have to sacrifice you to the God of the Symbol. Come, my child, come to me,” she bellowed as everybody got up to grab him. Someone managed to get hold of him and nearly pushed him into the fire…

                        

Wren woke up with sweat dripping down his neck, his head drenched with sweat and throbbing, his heart pumping so fast. “Thank God that was just a dream,” Wren thought. 

He felt thankful and relieved… until he heard chanting coming from below.

                        

A Thriller Story: FRESH OUT OF THE OVEN

Jeffrey stared at the almost-empty cash register as he was about to close the accounts for a day. "It's amazing how people can ditch our talk-of-the-town cupcake overnight for some silly franchised doughnuts!'' Jane complained, staring at the unsold dainty cupcakes neatly staked on the brass shelves. 

Jeffrey tried to comfort Jane, "Things won't be so bad after all. Tomorrow, we will be getting a cheque from Mrs. Johnson for her daughter's party- " and they hear a loud thud followed by a cry. The couple rushed to the back. 

Everything seemed normal, so they called it a day.

The couple were in early the next morning. It was their last, best shot to recover the business. The bills were already choking them and they were two months behind on their shop rent. They had even let their seventeen-year long serving kitchen helper go.

Jeffrey turned on the mixer while Jane stirred the fruit and nut soaking in wine. Suddenly, the mixer jammed the machine made a strange noise when Jeffrey tried to clear it with a long wooden spatula, a few strands of hair and a torn piece of  cloth emerged on the surface and gestured Jane to come over.

It was a boy who was barely five or six, laying dead in the chocolate cake batter. He was already partially blended. The couple stared at each other, dumbfounded. After a moment's consideration, they agreed to put moral judgements aside and proceed with the baking. Jane convinced him, ''What they don't know won't hurt them."

The next morning, the phone was ringing off the hook. Compliments and new orders were pouring in until finally, Mrs Johnson walked in with a contented smile, ''People are raving about your nutty, chocolate cake."

The couple then realized that they needed to add their "special ingredient" to make extra bucks. Jeffrey would kill the victim and Jane would bake the mix. Day by day, Jeffrey lost his morals and ruthlessly became a cold-blooded killer.

On the night of Halloween, Jeffrey waited for a unsuspecting child to pass by in a corner at the back of the shop. The moment finally came and Jeffrey wasted no time in stabbing the poor child to death. He did not even take a moment to admire the adorable child in a oversized Pikachu costume with a hood covering his entire face.

"Here, this one was a little tough," Jeffrey said as he handed Jane the body. "Make sure you remove the access costume and hoodie, I'm off to bed now."

The next morning, as Jeffrey walked into the tiny shop, he heard loud wailing. He walked into the kitchen to find his wife weeping next to the body of the child Jeffrey killed the day before. Then he realized something. "It's all your fault! It's all your fault our son is dead! I'm reporting you!" Jane screamed. 

Jane and Jeffrey got into a huge fight. Jeffrey slightly pushed Jane but she tripped over the lifeless body of her son and fell towards the mixing pot, spinning with rage. Before she fell into the batter, she managed to grab Jeffrey's shirt and he fell in the mixing pot with her.

The news was all over the town the next day that the best-selling cupcake store was closed down because authorities found traces of the two bakers in the batter and their child lying dead on the ground. The detectives came to a conclusion that they must have committed suicide.

However, no one ever found out about the real story and the "special ingredient" that they used...