The Leap Year Massacre

Elliot was the first one to enter the house, the water cooler heavy in her hands, when she was no more than five feet through the door she set the cooler down on the hard wood, immediately disgusted with the smell of the home.

The scent was something like the bird outside with a mix of mold and dust. This place hadn’t been inhabited in years, yet it looked as clean as her home, not that her mother cleaned much, they just never did anything to make the house look filthy in the first place. Although the place was clean, she could tell that no one had cared much for the place.
The house felt abandoned, ominous. Nothing was in the greatest condition. Everything was old, broken-down, overused. She could see why no one wanted this place, it was a dump. THe house had been up for sale for several years, only being taken off the market three years ago.

Elliot couldn’t help but laugh when she saw Abigail’s face as she entered the home.
“This place is a shit hole. No wonder they stopped letting people come here. Staying a night in this place is suicide.” Abigail dropped her backpack on the floor next to the cooler. “I’m not sleeping here.”

Elliot grabbed the camera with her other hand as it dangled from her wrist and turned it on quickly pointing it at Abigail. “This is the rare creature Frightfulbitchitus.” Elliot then focused the camera on herself. “She won’t be staying in the home tonight; instead she will be sleeping in the car, outside, alone.” Elliot put malice into her words to scare Abigail. It worked.

Abigail forced herself to laugh. “Very funny,” she said scrunching her nose.
Jordan walked through the doors carrying two bags, his and Elliot’s essentials. Elliot wondered why Abigail was even on this trip. She thought it could be because she was hot and every horror movie needs a slut, but then she thought how annoyed everyone was by her. Whoever had nominated her had hoped that the story about only one student returning was true. Abigail was on the bottom of the list of people to survive if there was a crazy psycho killer out there who was going to tear three students to bits and eat them for a midnight snack.

“Can you two stop fighting for one minute and help us.” Jordan turned back around and headed out of the house to get something else.

They hadn’t brought much, and Malachi was already bringing in the rest, but Jordan had to get something out of the glove compartment that he had taken from his father’s collection before leaving the house that morning. Jordan wasn’t about to die, or let anyone else die for that matter. If anything crazy happened tonight, he was going to be ready.

Malachi entered the house, avoiding rushing Jordan as he headed back to the car.

“Fuck me.” He said under his breath, taking in the whole house.

Elliot filmed him as he set his bag down; making sure that he got a fair amount of camera time.

“No thank you.” Abigail flipped her hair over her shoulder and started to walk around the house.

Elliot gave her a sidelong glance, but Abigail just rolled her eyes and went on as if nothing had happened. “So,” Elliot said coursing Malachi back into reality, “what do you think?”
Malachi was speechless. This place was straight from a horror movie, and there was no doubt in hell that he had made the right choice out there. The whole house was dark and cold, like it should be inhabited by some masochistic killer. Just the thought sent chills up his spine.

“This place is fucking sweet.” Malachi quickly headed towards the staircase. “I’m going to go check out the upstairs. Want to come?” Malachi was already heading up the steps, but Elliot felt that she should at least respond, even if he couldn’t hear her.

“No thanks, I think I’ll take a look around down here before,” she trailed off, seeing that Malachi was long gone.

Elliot sighed. “Okay then. I’ll just take inventory of the house, and be done with it.” She focused the camera on the living room, getting a broad view.

The camera lens grazed over the room, getting every inch on film. The room had a simple layout. A couch, loveseat, coffee table, and bookshelf all conveniently located around the room. The living room entered into the kitchen. The kitchen had no modern appliances, just the basics. There was an island in the middle of the tiled floor, nothing special. In the living room, on the far right wall, a staircase leads to the second floor.

Elliot took the staircase, each step creaking under her feet. No lights were on in the house, and all the doors were closed in the hall, creating a pitch-black atmosphere. Elliot switched the camera into night vision. The hall was empty. There were three doors to the left, two to the right, and one at the very end of the hall.

Malachi was in the room to Elliot’s left. The door was closed, but he knew she was there. This room had belonged two children. There was a picture of two little boys on the wall in the hall. They looked about eight, blonde, blue eyed. No doubt, they were twins. The room had two beds, one closet, one bedside table, two trunks filled with dusty toys.

Malachi lay down on the bed to his right, placing his hands behind his head and crossing his ankles. The bed felt a hundred years old, hard and probably filled with dust mites.
Elliot took a look at the pictures hanging on the wall, making sure to get them on camera. She was looking a little boy, seven or eight maybe. Thin bowl cut blonde hair and, though the picture was in black and white she knew that he has blue eyes. The little boy wasn’t smiling in the picture, he looked solemn and cold. She shivered and moved onto the next portrait.
This one was of the exact same boy, only he has a scar on his forehead just covered by his hair. She realized that this boy was merely a twin to the other. This boy was happy, his eyes reflecting those of someone happy to be alive. Completely the opposite of the other little boy.
She continued on the line of pictures, a little girl, maybe a year or two older than the boys, a mother and father content and happy. Then again, pictures can lie. From the stories that have surrounded this house, surrounded the people, Elliot knew this family was everything but content and happy.

Elliot remained silent, her voice trapped in her throat as she remembers the pictures she had seen online. What Mr. Anderson has done to his children, his wife, it was more than she could bear. She stopped herself from gagging as she realized that she was standing in the spot where Mr. Anderson had shot himself in the head. He had taken the easy way out.
Elliot made her way to the end of the hall. She store at the wallpaper, a mess of yellow flowers and green leaves plastered over the walls. It was sickening. Everything in this house seemed so simple, sweet even. It made whoever had lived here look like they could do no wrong, but she knew the truth.

A sound came from the room to her left. Elliot looked inside, nothing.

She turned the camera with her body, slowly moving the room. This must have been the parents room. A large bed, a few pictures, an empty closet. This room to seemed simple, but she knew the horror that this room had seen. The images made her stomach turn. She wasn't’ ready to be here, she couldn't stand in that room knowing what has happened.
Elliot turned around, looking down at her hands as she turned camera off.

Suddenly the camera was on the ground, her hand over her heart. She looked up at Jordan, her face reflecting the dip in the pit of her stomach. She was sick.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Jordan placed his hand on the side of her face.

Elliot sighed shaking her head. “It’s fine, I just need some air.”

“Do you not remember the bird?” Jordan’s hand moved down to Elliot’s waist.

She nodded. “It’s cool.”

“Come on El, we just got here.”

Jordan began to kiss her, his arms pulling her in close. She resisted him, attempting to push him away.

“Jordan stop, I just want so space.” Elliot pressed her hands against his chest, but Jordan was persistent.

Elliot was fine with keeping their relationship secret, though they didn’t get to spend much time together and attempted to utilize what time they did have, but now wasn’t the time to play around.

Elliot once against attempted to gain space between the two of them, but Jordan wouldn’t give up. “Let go of me.”

“Jordan, Abigail needs you, now.” Malachi leaned against the wall, running his black painted fingernails through his hair.

Jordan sighed and kissed Elliot on the lips a single time before rushing from the room, brushing against Malachi with malice.

Malachi laughed and nodded at Elliot. “Are you okay?”

Elliot crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes, thank you.”

“No problem, but you should really be more assertive next time.” Malachi turned around and was about to leave when he made a full circle and faced her again. “Just for future reference Jordan is an ass, and I think that treating a woman like that, is more than death worthy.”
Elliot gave him a fake smile and bent down to pick up her camera. When she looked for Malachi in the doorway he had disappeared. Elliot sighed, running her fingers over her lips.
She flipped the camera screen out and rewound the footage.