You're Gonna Die Tonight

I venture up the walkway towards my home, the half-done, over-the-top decorations making me roll my eyes. For some reason, my parents want to be that haunted house every Halloween, so they forced me out early this morning in order for them to set up. It's 7 o'clock and I'm shocked they haven't finished. Our rural neighborhood makes our place likeable by all the overeager teenagers seeking a thrill on the devil's holiday, because the far-spaced houses allow my parents to go all out with their creepiness without fear of neighbors complaining.

Upon entering the blackened Victorian house, I note that the lights in the living and dining room aren't working.

"Really? Didn't you guys do this last year?" I question out loud. I'm not expecting a response but the sudden screech and uproar of laughter coming from the basement force me to wince. I take out my phone, the text that they sent me, stating, "you're gonna die tonight," still up, so I use the light to guide me. Any other 16-year old would find it odd that their parents sent a such a text to their kid, but with 'rents like mine, you grow use to it. I don't know why they used a text like this to lure me home, but I've decided I'll just go with the flow to get it over with. Creeping down the basement steps, I hold my phone in front of me so that I don't trip over myself.

"Mom? Daddy?" I call out.

"Down here, darlin'," an eerie voice whispers back. It must be dad, he's the only one that calls me, "darlin'."

I pause then follow the sounds of labored breathing further into the large basement. I scrape my free hand on the cement wall once I grip at it from almost busting my brains out due to the slick floor. My heartbeat pounds behind my ears, threatening to explode.

"Where are you guys?" I mumble, moreso to myself. If that's fake blood on the floor, they've truly outdone themselves.

"We're over here, Carla," two voices reply in echoed unison. I blink my eyes rapidly, hoping they'll adjust to the darkness, but I can only make out shapes. One foot in front of the other, I go towards the voices.

That's when the power shuts on.

I'm blinded by the instant glare of light so I stumble back on the slippery floor and fall on my butt into a large pool of some thick liquid. Once my sight has returned I look around. My face twists into a mask of horror and my lips part to let a terrified scream escape. My mother and father's willowly figures grin from above me, half their faces appear to have been gnawed off and gashes are embedded in their necks and bare shoulders and arms. I could chalk that up to being make-up if it weren't for my eyes finding the source of the substance seeping inside of my jeans. The hacked bodies of my younger sister and brother lie behind them, their dismembered limbs barely hanging on to their naked corpses while their blood coats the ground. I will myself the stength to lift my head and place my eyes on my blood-drenched parents. Their teeth are exposed to me and my breath halts as the daggers part.

"We told you," they say simultaneously. "You're gonna die tonight..." their distorted voices provoke my eyes to snap shut and a long, blood-curdling scream to explode from my throat.