Greta reaches out, her hands stretched out in front of her, groping in the darkness, feeling her way along the walls.
"Malcolm?" Greta whispers.
"Right here..." he puts his hand on her shoulders.
Gretas eyes begin to adjust to the darkness. The walls are covered on child's drawings. Faces. Words.
Greta comes to an pin-prick of light and puts her eyes up to it. Looking into her room at the bed and closet. The closet door is open, the belt is tied to the bed. But brahms is nowhere to be seen. When Brahms walks right passed her.
Greta ducks down and stifles a scream.
"What is it?" Malcolm whispers.
Greta puts her finger to her lips. The two off them sit there, waiting and listening.
"I don't hear any..."
WHAM!
The blade of Brahms knife slams through the wall, stopping just short of Malcolm mouth. He screams.
"Run!" Greta shouts.
In a flash, they're back on their feet. The path splits in two different directions. Gretas mind races, trying to figure out were they are in the house.
"Which way?" Asks Malcolm.
"I don't know" Replies greta.
More creaking. The unmistakable sound of steps coming from the right. They take the left, they push their way through layers of curtains and they both walk into another room.
The real Brahms bedroom.
Everything you could need. A sink. A shower. A toilet. A microwave and fridge. Various tupperware, mostly empty.
It's lit dimly with Christmas lights, illuminating various stack of porn magazines and a few porn pictures stuck to the walls with a few child-like drawings and some oil paint pictures.
"Jesus..." Malcolm whispers.
Malcolm and Greta spread out to investigate the room.
"He's been living here the whole time. In this room for thirty years." Malcolm says to greta.
But Greta isn't listening. She found a stack of letters in Mrs Heelshires handwriting.
Greta reads. "We won't be back. We're gone now to heaven. One day we will be together again. The girls are yours now, a final gift from us. Treat them well, like I know you boys would..."
She lowers the letter. A dazed look on her face as she notices a bed. On it is... Alice. Greta inches closer, anger builds inside her. She's alive. She's all cleaned up, her wounds have been stitched up professionally.
" I think I found a way downstairs." Malcolm calls.
Greta races down the narrow passageway and finds Malcolm. They peer down it as Malcolm lights the way with a flashlight. A ladder leads down to the first floor. Greta doesn't tell Malcolm about Alice.
They both climb down the ladder as quick as possible and run down a longer passageway. They both come to another door.
"Were here. Back of the house." Malcolm says in releaf.
A creaking sound of footsteps. It's impossible to tell where they're coming from. And then, in a soft, almost child's voice calls out to Greta.
"Greta... Greta... Come here pretty Greta... You've been naughty..."
More footsteps roaming the house.
"Come back pretty Greta, come back... I won't hurt you..."
More footsteps, its almost sounds like they are moving away. Malcolm motions to Greta, let's go. Malcolm brushes against something. A small bell hung on the wall. A slight tonk. Not much, but enough.
YOU ARE READING
Family Secrets
Fanfiction18+ Great Evans gets a job as a nanny to look after a little boy called Brahms. She takes her sister Alice with her,to keep her safe. As the Heelshire parents go on vacation, they must follow the rules. Little do they know there is more that one se...
