At the Hands of Three Children

The Abner family lived across from a lake in a tall, thin, green skirted house. Just another dwelling place in the long line of ancient Victorian antiques. Their door was sky-reaching and gilded in gold, windows flaunted themselves all over the house in their own juvenile attempt to look the best. Parading in the rather pompous and absurd color yellow the house held its head up high as its spirals and rather intricate woodwork made it and its fellow neighbors stick out like a sore thumb in the middle of the modern metropolis. 

      This, of course, held no sway over the inhabitance. They carried on their little lives rather enjoying being looked upon strangely for their frank lodgings. The Abner themselves though were the most form-fitting to the rest of the community despite where they lived. Dressing in minimalistic clothing, buying simple house wear, and doing more ‘accepted’ activities. A simple family, nothing special to them, nothing out of the ordinary, and they liked it that way.  

      Vinnie was the oldest and was rather a fan of strangely colored daffodils and purple lilacs. While her younger sister Hazel was rather intrigued with the process of bookbinding and book printing as a general rule, and to top it all of the middle children, Archie was an elective mute to the populous and only spoke to a select few, those select few being people he like as he did not like many, and did not like people in the slightest bit unless they gave him food. Their parents were meer shadows in these children’s lives and were only addressed as ‘sir’ and ‘mam’ never to even be called ‘Mr. Abner’ ‘Mrs. Abner’ ‘Dad’ ‘Mom’ Daddy’ Mommy’ or anything of the sort. There had been a time when little baby Hazel had cried out ‘Mommy’ upon stubbing her toe and she was refused food for the rest of the night.

      Now, sir and mam were not abusive by any sort of means whether forward or backward, but they were strict as a way of mannerism – a type of mannerism that had been passed down to them and they hoped to pass down to their children. Things for this family started to go sideways, though, when a cousin moved into their house due to earning an internship at a big fracking business whose headquarters were minutes away. The cousin's name was Otto and was strongly liked by Archie and that was the soul reason sir and mam let him stay. It was no small feat, after all, to get Archie to like you.

      So, their Otto stood, in the middle of summer, cheeks red with sunburn and a half marry half sleep-deprived smile off his face knocking on that daunting door with a polite rap. 

      Mam opened the door, her hair pulled up into a tight bun, eyes pensive, brow furrowed, and dressed in a white-collar business outfit as she had a meeting of highest importance latter.” Come in. Vinnie will show you to your room and please do entertain Archie a little, the poor boy is sucked up in his room and refused to come down except for mealtime.”

      Otto grinned profusely. Just as he remembered.” Yes, mam.”

      Darting inside he pulled his alice blue luggage in with him. Vinnie stood there waiting and greeted him with a simple nod of the head and words of welcome. Proceeding to lead him upstairs she made sure she was out of mam’s way before turning to her beloved cousin and crushing him in a hug.

      “I missed you so much.” Vinnie breathed out.

      Otto grinned as he returned her bone grinding hug.” Me to V.”

      Swinging around the corner Vinnie showed Otto to his room. The walls were painted glorious emerald green and had taxidermy ravens strung up from the ceiling – probably the only peculiar thing about the room. The bed was king size and made of black mat mettle with a plain white comforter laid on top. A large mirror in the shape of honeycomb was strung up a wall and a single shelf was nailed in next to it with five or six books and a slew of air plants and other succulents. Three-quarters of the way into the room was a glass wall. On the other side of the wall stood the bathroom. The bathtub was elegant and white seamlessly coming up from the floor as the higher you looked the more it spread up and widened. A long, elegant spigot came down from the ceiling and descended right above the bath. The sink was a white granite and held gold plumbing. Overall, Otto felt spoiled. The room, the house itself, was always rather flamboyant for his taste, but he still enjoyed it to an extent.

      Turning to Vinnie he smiled.” Thanks, V.”

      “You’re welcome. If you want to see Archie, he’s two doors down.” 

      Smiling Otto promptly set his stuff down and pranced down the strenuous hallway calling back a “Thank you!”

Knocking on Archie’s door he whispered softly.” Archie, it's Otto, can I come in?                                                                                 

      Soon a nine-year-old boy was peeking out of the door timidly, but upon seeing it was truly Otto a huge smile broke out across his face. Throwing the door open the toothy boy threw his arms around the older man and buried his head into Otto’s stomach.

      “Otto!” The little boy cried out, but due to his lack of molars it came more out like “Otter!” 

      “Hey, Chie-Chie,” Otto responded smiling down at the little mop of brown hair facing the heavens.

      Turning swiftly, Archie pulled Otto into his room and slammed the door closed. Pulling the young man over to his small play space the boy sat down harshly and picked up a large jar full of beads floating in water. 

      The day floated on and Otto grew weary, glad to drift off into sleep. 

      His dream was long and delirious, a winding road of nothingness. He was walking through the hallways of the Abners' house when he stumbled through a half-open door. The world around him warped and buzzed as he took the small room in. Otto knew nothing of this room, was pretty sure it didn’t even exist, but it scared him to death. The walls were painted dark purple, there was a birdcage in the far corner, minimal light was being produced from a single lamp, and human skulls decorated the walls with little tags of names underneath. 

      In the center of the room sat a table where Vinnie, Archie, and Hazel stood talking in quiet voices. Otto couldn’t hear them, but as he walked forward he stumbled across something as he fell Otto managed to pull his head down and see an old man sitting there, confusion, and fear written across the man’s face. Crashing into the floor Otto had to do a double-take as he fazed through the floor, the woodwork erupting in blues, pinks, purples, and blacks. The last thing he saw was the three siblings turning towards him as looks of horror crossed their faces, Vinnie darting forward Otto screaming to ‘get him!’

      As the world still pulsed and emitted testable sound waves Otto was thrust into the light as he was pulled up from the dirt into a standing position. Looking around, Otto took in the flat grassy plain that lay before him. Nothing surrounded him, just miles and miles of grass. Breathing out Otto stepped forward, stumbling as he went. The world seemingly moved below him as nothing was seemingly firm. A divine voice echoed through the night sky in sonic waves. 

      Shivering as each music wave hit him, every time his temperature fluctuated dramatically one minute he was burning up, the next he was freezing. Turning to look at the sky everything rippled harsher than before as the singing became more damaging to his ears. Otto took another shaky step forward as he started to fall sideways, but tightening his core he regained his balance only to see the same old man he saw earlier sitting there on the ground looking up at Otto, neck set at a weird angle. 

      “You know the fields aren’t as free of blood as you think they are. Look at your hands, boy.” Otto felt a force being applied to him as he was forced by an invisible force to look down at his hands. They were stained with blood.” When you knocked on that door your soul was doomed.” 

      Otto looked up at the man again as darkness started to shrouded his eyes slowly falling into a void and that was the end.

      Abruptly waking up Otto shot out of bed, sweating and shivering. Stumbling to his feet Otto stumbled through the house to where the door was in his dream. Resting his hand against the wall he breathed out a sigh of relief as nothing happened. Turning, he leaned against the wall as he stabilized his breathing and racing heart only to find it fell open. Falling onto the floor he was immediately greeted by a bag being stuffed over his head before he could take anything in. The bag was coarse and hurt his cheeks but that didn’t matter right now. Shaking and struggling Otto tried to break free of the person holding him down, but whoever that person was, they were strong and Otto wasn’t going anywhere. 

      The person pulled Otto up and forced him to walk for a little before making him sit down in a rather uncomfortable chair. His hands were yanked back and a biting cord was used to tie his hands up to the back of the seat. Biting his lip till blood was drawn Otto knew it was probably Vinnie handling him. 

      “You saw is in your dream, Otto.” The person whispered next to his ear. Vinnie, her sultry voice unmistakable.” Did you hear anything we said?”

      Rapidly shaking his head Otto held his voice in afraid it would crack and words would come out disjointed. Hot fat tears slipped down his face wetting the bag making it even darker in color than before. His lips shook uncontrollably. One a usually day Otto wouldn’t be this scared, but the room gave off an ethereal air. One so overwhelmingly strong it could break the most mentally fortified person down to dust. 

      “I’m taking this bag off, you’re going to walk out of hearing and you’re going to act like this never happened okay?”

      Otto didn’t respond.

      “Look, Otto, I like you a lot. Give me a solid answer.” The sound of a gun being cocked rang through the room. 

      Shaking his head wildly, Otto agreed. 

      The bag was pulled off his head and the little light there was in the room was still overpowering. The cords were cut by who Otto guessed was Archie as four-year-old Hazel stood in a corner holding a gun and Vinnie loomed over him. 

      Taking in a sharp breath Otto stood up, shaking looking at the three children he took in the psychotic glint in their eyes. Breathing turning sharper and more urgent as Otto looked around him, the purple walls seemed to cave in on him as they taunted him with their rich, colorful knowledge of what had happened in that room in the past. 

      “Otto. You have to leave.” Vinnie said firmly, taking a slight step forward. She was a good five years younger than he was – she was only sixteen after all – but she was scary. Clenching his jaw in an unappealing manner Otto made a last-second decision and bolting, he ran towards the other side of the room; beelining for a hatch in the floor. Otto didn’t know what was in it or under it, but it was a part of the house he didn’t know and the way Archie and Vinnie lunged at him, he guessed they didn’t like him heading towards the hatch. 

      Then the worst part of the room, the one that made him the sickest, the one that made him fear the future of his world attacked him. Hazel – four years old might I remind you – held up a gun and shot. The bullet ripped through his left leg and Otto fell unceremoniously to the hard ground crying out in an unparalleled scream of pain hoping Mr. and Mam might hear me and come to save him hoping the two weren’t in on the treachery too. 

      No one came, Otto was hefted up over Vinnie’s strong shoulder with some difficulty and she managed her way down the steps. Otto’s vision pulsed and his ears rung just like they did in that dream. Almost afraid to look at his hands he saw his blood staining them. That’s when he understood the man’s words.” …the fields aren’t as free of blood as you think they are.” It was a warning that he would die soon, one he took no head to, and soon Otto was dumped into a grave in the middle of the forest, throat ripped up and bloody from screaming. More had died at these siblings' hands, that much was obvious, but it hurt so much, the betrayal felt so deep. 

      Dirt was heaped up upon him as it filled his lungs causing him to choke and gasp for air that wasn’t there, taking in several quick flighty breaths he let the darkness consumed him. It was the old’s man's voice he heard singing that day telling of a time long lost, a past life never to be dug up by even the gods.

When, haughtily, the earth churns and crumbles

People praise the melodramatic backlash

When salt is sprinkled on the arables

My defiant tears run and turn to ash                         

That’s when the rain turns to flaxy sulfur                                               

That’s when the scrappy martyrs are stacked

All is gouged out and all is left underfur

Decay is concentrated, harshly packed

Slain carcasses lie mangled and empty

Hunger is a rapidly rising beast                                                     

Screams of people, running in frailty

Water burnt crimson, children watch aghast

Governments parade pompously, front forged

Masks mark the trauma-sensitive, all gorged 

The last thing he heard was his beloved Archie’s little voice ringing through the night sky.

What will we tell Mr. and Mam?”