Read Mommy's Gone Crazy Page 3

as quickly as possible and alert the authorities.

  How I missed them previously I do not know, but when I came to the door, my light hit blood stains on the wall opposite me. There they were, in their clearest representation, staring back at me with malice. My light flew up and down the hall once more, and much to my shock, there were more prints leading out from the study! I was so previously consumed with escaping the openness of the living area that I hardly knew what I was passing in this hall.

  Lexi’s room, just down from the study and off to the right, was my next destination. I crept silently but steadily down the hall, trying to make as little noise as possible. I lost the trail of handprints, and everything in this wing seemed in order. There was Lexi’s door before me, and I confess I nearly sprinted towards it, hoping to find my angel hiding there.

  The room was spacious and showed signs of a disheveled appearance, but not of the violent sort. The usual clutter of clothes, books, a laptop and girlish things were strewn about, but nothing that gave rise to violence, and no bloody prints. I called to her, searched her closets and in every conceivable hiding place, but still did not find her. Despair was mounting in my heart. Where, good God, could she be? I had torn open the closet door again and was stepping in when I heard the bark of a dog.

  It was not a muffled bark, as one would expect from outside; it was, instead, very clear and crisp, and came only from upstairs. I listened as a second, and then third bark resounded off the crypt-like walls of the house. How strange, I thought, to not only hear noise in this vault, but to hear a dog’s aggressive bark. Then, what followed sent a new wave of fear through me. The dog was making its ruckus when I heard something, like a loud thud, then a wailing from the animal. It cried out in pitiful tones, then another thud, dull and echoless, silenced the beast. I froze.

  Above me, soft footsteps were falling gently on the floor, and the boards beneath gave notice to their movement. I stared at the ceiling and tried to follow the path of the person. I did not hear the dog any longer. For many long minutes I stayed where I stopped, staring and wondering, yet not knowing what was happening around me.

  Finally, I moved from the closet and crept to the entrance. No further steps were heard above me, and I did not hear anyone descend the staircase. In Lexi’s closet, I found a clothes rod and took it as a weapon. I had little faith in its ability to defend, but at that moment a simple weapon was better than no weapon at all. Clenching it in my hands, I slid along the wall to the door, then slowly peered out. There was movement upstairs. It might be Lexi, or it might be Alexandretta. The rest of the lower level could wait; I had to know if those steps were my daughter’s.

  Darkness covered everything thickly, but streak-like rays of moonlight poked in through the windows. With poor visibility, I had to rely upon my hearing; however, every single sound which would assist me, like footsteps and door hinges, was absent. The only noise to breach the silence had just been muted several moments ago, a thought which still haunted me.

  I threw myself into the darkness and began the trek towards the living space once again. I moved cautiously but deliberately, knowing that in such a silent house, I could make little noise and still face the consequences of its echo. At one point I shuddered as my hand, which was dragging along the wall, slid through a moist stain. I could feel the liquid on my fingertips. Frantically wiping my hand on my pants, I rid myself of the blood, yet not the thought of why it was present on the wall. Oh, how I longed to find Lexi and bring her to safety! She was alive; I knew it and believed I could feel it within me. I needed only to find her.

  The grand staircase was near, and as I reached it, a single creak from upstairs arrested me deeply. It was a door opening slowly. The noise was both welcomed and abhorred in this noiseless and fear-stricken house. It meant but one thing: life was still present and animated. Whose life, however, was the question my mind wrestled with when the sound reached my ears. Could Lexi be moving around? Did my girl know I was here? Or was it she who lurked about the second floor?

  I stood behind the case and threw a glance upward. From my perspective I could see nothing but the encumbered darkness, a mass of blackness which witnessed God knows what only a short time ago. If events ever had any bearing on the atmosphere, I knew this particular episode fully charged the atoms of this area with a wickedness which nearly seeped from the pores of everything around me. The energy vibrated with an evil which told of the madness that was unleashed; I could feel it in and around me, slowly revolving in a cyclical fashion. For the energy to be ripe with anger, as this area was, it had to be a heinous amount of pain and evil which was expelled. I closed my eyes at the thought.

  I listened, but heard only creaking as it faded into the silence. No footsteps; no voices; nothing of the sort to even denote activity. Depression, deeper than the largest cavern, came upon me as I strained to hear something, anything, of the noise upstairs. I wanted to raise my voice to the upper level, yet fear tightened in my chest, and I knew it would prove fatal to both Lexi and me if I did so.

  My intense fear of Alexandretta kept me from running through the evil house, shouting for her to appear. Alexandretta is more than human, though not entirely divine. I have met many ill-natured women in my days, but Alexandretta is far different. To suppose she suffers from a mental destitution is wholly inadequate, as there is present a far greater deprivation of character in her being than all of the evil geniuses combined. She is powerful in her craft, and intelligent in her scheming. When I loved her, I tamed her, and her love for me tamed her even more. The birth of our daughter further pushed from her all the anger and pain of her early tortured years. When everything fell apart, the old symptoms began to rise and the evil returned; and with that evil in her, Alexandretta is not one to suffer a competitor to live.

  I began my ascent slowly and cautiously, using the railing as a guide. It, too, was covered in blood, and my palm turned red. Once stained, blood can be a marker which designates one for annihilation, a visible omen worn on the hand to denote death. I tried to wipe my hand on a bare spot on the railing, but the blood clung to me.

  Reaching the second floor, I took my light and illuminated the portion before me. It was a simple, open hall overlooking the grand living area below. The same carnage I previously witnessed was present here also, exemplified by the splintered and wrecked banister which seemed to hang loosely from its holdings, and a new addition: holes in the walls. I approached one and examined it. Some object had torn through the plaster to reveal the skeleton of the house. It was several inches long and a few wide, and resembled the mark left by an ax head.

  Bloody stains were also present on the walls and banister. I did not know which way to turn first, and so decided to head past the hole to the first room I could see, the second largest living area in the house. This room took up a large portion of the second level and overlooked both the front drive and sections of the first floor below. Spacious and plush, though tormented by the recent evil which passed through its chamber, the room was silent and sitting quietly in the shadows.

  I called out for Lexi and began to move around the sofa and some overturned tables. I checked under the billiard table and around the unmoved furniture. Rips and tears were abundant, as were holes in the walls. If an ax did indeed create the damage, then I was extremely fearful and nervous. My stick would be no match should I encounter her; this much I knew.

  I was trying to peer out from the French doors to the balcony when I heard the creaking noise again. It captured me completely, and though previously absorbed, I became fully focused on this latest sound. Creeping towards a side entrance leading to a hall and additional rooms, I moved quickly, hoping to catch Lexi stealing through the darkness. I called out to her, but received no response.

  Stepping down from the room, I stood in the hall with the darkness as my only companion. My light began to flicker; the batteries, I reasoned, wer
e faulty, though they could not have picked a worse time to act so degenerately.

  I moved in the direction of the sound, and found myself walking to the back of the house. My heart pumped wildly as I pressed the void around me. With whispers I called out to my daughter, only to hear the deadly echo of my own voice against the stained walls. The smudges were more abundant here. What could have caused so much blood?

  I was looking at a little stain when my light gave up its gumption and faded. I shook it violently, cursing silently with anger. The device resumed, only to cast a dim beam into the hall. Then it died. Forever.

  There are more horrible situations one could find themselves in, but at that moment I could think of none. I had no light, and only a stick for a weapon. Angry, I threw the light away. It rattled and slid across the wood, then stopped abruptly. It hit something in the middle of the hall, making a muffled sound.

  The corridor was relatively untouched, so what could be sitting in the middle of the pathway? I moved closer, while using my memory of the sound and its proximity to me as a guide. At that moment not a sliver of the moon’s light penetrated this