It was a cold winter night, days before Christmas in the town of Wind’s Creek, residing in District Ravenbourg. The winter chill had spread across all over the town, a blizzard would set in which was forecasted by Creek Meteorological Department. The trees swaying from side to side, from the cool wind, the dead silence of the small but bustling town was quite unnerving. The moonlight shining into the local police station, a lonely dead tree sitting beside a big open window, as it tapped the glass. An officer was sitting at his desk, tapping his fingers on the old ash wood table. Sipping, his hot chocolate he cringed. ‘The house number 245 on Street Pax, had been sold to a small family of five by William Oswell. The man of fifty three, suffering from Dementia and Schizophrenia. Due to these conditions he retired, selling his property deciding to live with his grandson in Ohio. A week after the family moved into the house, they received multiple threatening letters from a so called ‘Watcher’. Mason, the family patriarch had informed the police about the letters. Three weeks later, letters stopped appearing. Soon after that the three children went missing, Detective Megan only finding the youngest child’s severed top half buried five feet under the local dog park. The only clue was the supposed small drip of red paint on the tree on top of the burial.’ Taking a brief pause, Officer Oliver flipped the next page. ‘Two days later, a letter along with a package arrived in the name of the Dankworths. The letter was mocking both the parents, Mason and Adeela. Contained in the package was their oldest son’s severed hand, drained off blood. After that, such a letter or package from the ‘Watcher’ never did arrive again. Both Dankworths were suffering and closed themselves off from society, trying to sell the house but no one would. A month later, the police arrived to check them, nobody responded at the door. The door was broken down, to find everything covered in dust. Adeela’s body lay on a blood soaked couch, her throat slit, hands of hair missing and cuts all over the body, wearing a the mask of a seahorse. Going up the old creaky stairs, they found Mason hanging from the ceiling fan wearing a mask of a polar bear, his throat slit and his left leg missing. Under forensic report, Adeela was missing her ovary and kidney. While Mason had his liver missing.’
‘Prime Suspects : Only One – William Oswell.’
Oliver winced at the painful scream of the old man, in the hard review room. Oliver got up as he opened the door closing behind him. William sat at the foldable metal chair, as he wailed in pain, a screwdriver being embedded in his hand. The elder groaned. “P-Please, I h-have n-nothing do to with the m-murder of t-the D-Dankworths.” A loud scoff was heard in response by Senior Officer Hank. “Listen, Willy if you accept it, then it will be easier for us to send you to a good psychiatric hospital and get a small prison sentence after that.”
Hank slammed his hands, on the metal table. “We wouldn’t want to damage your weak frail body anymore right Willy?”William winced as he looked at his fingers, which had finger nails missing and were bleeding.
“It’s him, H-Hank. T-The t-thing that e-everyone adult would t-tell their children in this god f-forsaken town, to keep them s-safe.”William wheezed out. Gritting his teeth, “I and everyone else knows it’s just a tale Willy! It’s an old lay man’s tale. It was based on the murders in 67’.”
In a soft voice the old man whispered, “N-No Hank. It’s all real. He’s real. I sent my family away to protect them from him. N-Now he’ll come for me. All of us.” As the fifty three year old banged his head on the table. Oliver sighed as he asked, “You need a cup of coffee sir?” Hank nodded as the young officer left the room. He put a cup on the coffee machine feeling the paper cup as he turned around. Oliver wheezed in pain as he was pushed back onto the coffee machine, the cup dropping spilling on the marble floor. His life flashed before him as his throat was slit by a single blade razor, blood seeping through the cut. Gasping for air as he saw a silhouette wearing a dark green hoodie, a gas mask covering his face, the figure waving at him, embedding a Nzappa Zap, into the head of the government official.
The figure heard a click of a gun , as he threw a throwing knife at the female officer. The knife piercing through its head, and landing onto the wall behind it, he strolled over to the body, carving into the stomach, removing the small intestine, as he gave a small deep chuckle hearing no heartbeat. As he sat on the body’s leg, carving another set of scars, removing the gas mask. The air filling with a green gas, as he planted a kiss on the woman’s cheek, leaving a burn mark. Putting back on the mask, he shut off the power grid, disappearing into the darkness.
“What happened Oliver? Amanda? What happened!” exclaimed Hank as he handcuffed William to the chair, as he whispered to the old terrified senior citizen, “Stay put. I’ll check outside.” Removing his pistol from the holster, he opened the door surveying the area. The senior officer, fell down onto his knees. Hank groaned in pain, as he felt something sharp in his spine, that made him crippled. His body trembled as he saw the figure appear next to him. Mimicking the voice of a teen boy, the figure said, “Nighty Night Officer.” A kunai was gifted into the senior officer’s head, as the masked man removed his left eyeball, throwing it up in the air toying with it.
“Not fun at all.” Still talking in that same voice as he threw the eyeball on the floor, clapping his hands a little, entering the interrogation room. He grabbed a seat sitting in front of William who was dripping with sweat.
“P-Please, I’ve n-never troubled y-you, or d-done a-anything t-to the house.” The frail man exclaimed. Giving a small deep giggle “Well Willy, Watcher thinks it’s too late to apologize, your well past your bedtime and Watcher thinks you need to be taught a lesson.” The figure responded in that voice revealing a mini flame thrower. Setting it down, he removed his gas mask, William trembled with fear at his place trying to remove his handcuffs but to no avail. “Oh come on Willy, Watcher just wants to play.” As his long tongue like a snake slithered out checking the fear in the room. The Watcher removed his left glove as his boney hand formed into a white snake, snapped at the hand of William as the menacing figure hissed in a deep demonic voice, “Burn in Hell William.” Uttering those words the old man met his firey doom. The morning rolled, as the trees were quite and still, the press and the police were on the scene. Words written on the wall with blood of all the victims of that night, “I’m Back.”A single bloody handprint for a signature , notes stuck all over the dead bodies, mocking them in childish but foul slurs, not a single trace. Now everyone had to be careful as not only would he be watching the house but also all of us. Every single one of us, even you...
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