But he could still hear.
There were sounds of pain from his father and a low gurgling he couldn’t quite place. And laughter. Strangers were in his apartment and laughing.
“Mom?”
No! His older sister’s voice wavered as she called for their mother. He wanted to shout at her to run, to hide. To grab Macy and get out of the apartment. He couldn’t save them. Their father couldn’t save their mother. What was he supposed to do? The only thing he could think to do was hide. Lucy and Macy should have been hiding too. Why weren’t they hiding?
A startled scream came from Lucy, and Ethan could hear her feet pounding down the hallway, back to their bedroom. Laughter followed his sister. High-pitched evil laughter from a woman.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” the woman sang in her horrible voice.
There was a loud explosion like someone had kicked in a door, and Lucy screamed. But the scream was cut short. Macy was crying, but that too was silenced quickly.
Ethan grabbed a washcloth and shoved the balled-up mass into his mouth to keep from screaming, but there was no stopping the rush of tears down his face. His family…someone was killing his family. His sisters. They were gone. Why? Why were they doing this? His whole body trembled, and he pulled his legs tighter against his chest.
“Where’s the other one?” the woman demanded. She sounded like she was in the hall again.
“What are you talking about?” someone responded. A man with a thick accent. It reminded Ethan of the time they drove hours and hours south to a family reunion in Kentucky. His dad had called it the bluegrass state, but he hadn’t seen a darn bit of blue grass. A lot of the people at the reunion had thick, country accents like this man.
“There are three beds back here, but only two brats. Where’s the third one?”
“No clue.”
“Find him!” she snarled. A second later the bathroom door opened, and Ethan barely managed to stifle his scream. He could hear her moving around the bathroom for a moment, and then the door to the linen closet was jerked open. The woman poked her head into the closet for only a second, but for Ethan, it felt like an eternity. He was sure she could hear his pounding heart.
He got a clear view of the woman through a little opening between the towels, and he knew he’d never forget her. She had long, stringy brown hair and copperish eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness. Her pale face was narrow and streaked with blood. The blood of his family. Her thin lips were parted, revealing a pair of perfect fangs glistening with blood.
Vampire.
She was a vampire.
Oh God. Vampires were real, and they’d killed his family.
She stood at the closet for only a second and then turned to the bathroom. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” she sang again.
She moved into the hall, singing that little refrain over and over again as she walked toward the front of the apartment. Ethan listened to her talking with her companions. He could make out a total of three voices. The woman and two men. They laughed like they were having the best adventure.
Ethan closed his eyes against the darkness and waited, praying for them to finally leave. Praying that he’d wake up to find this was all a horrible nightmare. He’d wake up in his warm bed with his superhero bedsheets and Lucy’s soft snores. He’d wake up to his spelling test and his mom making toast as she got dressed for work at the pediatricians’ office.
When Ethan opened his eyes again, he wasn’t sure how much time had passed. It felt like he’d drifted off to sleep again. The apartment was completely silent. No more laughter or footsteps or unfamiliar voices. The heater kicked on, sending warm air through the apartment.
Hesitantly, Ethan crawled out of his hiding place. He left the towels pulled aside in case he needed to dive back into his secret spot. So very slowly, he peeked out the now-open bathroom door, but there was no one in the hall. Walking on tiptoes, Ethan crept toward the living room. Cold air brushed against his toes. Before reaching the living room, he glanced toward the open kitchen to find it empty.
In the living room, blood was splashed across everything. The walls, pictures, a bookcase with their collection of movies, the TV, and furniture. His mother was sprawled half across the couch, her hand lying limp on the floor. Her pretty green eyes were staring up at the ceiling and her throat had been torn out. Ethan barely managed to turn aside before he threw up on the worn living room carpet. There wasn’t much, but his stomach kept spasming over and over again, as if it could purge the image from his body this way.