jess_badkids (jess_badkids) wrote in btvsal, @ 2009-02-11 08:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | place: la, ~aella |
What's in that House?
Who: Aella
Where: Old decrepit house in a bad part of town
When: Tuesday Night
People had been saying things about that house for years. Back in 1936, a man had murdered his wife and two daughters before killing himself. All of them were killed in their beds, their throats slit. The house couldn't be sold after that, and it fell into disrepair.
Children had started making up stories after that. Every generation, it was something different. One year, a witch lived there, the next, it was haunted. One kid even talked that it was a portal to hell. None of them quite had it right as to what had decided to make its home in the old house, though.
It was something that liked the games that the children played. It liked to watch from the windows. Watch the sunlight tickling the children's hair. It waited for nightfall, though, when the shadows came out to play. When children wanted to scare one another.
Children liked to dare one another to spend the night in the house, or maybe as little as an hour. Sometimes just one child would come in, or sometimes an entire group. It liked it when an entire group came in. Plenty to play with.
The children were frightened when the shadows started to dance around them, touching them with its cold, inky tentacles. They would try to pretend that it was just their imaginations, until those tentacles would grab them and pick them up.
Sometimes, she let them go after playing with them for a while. When she had been feeding often. More often, though, she would keep them. Drag them by a tentacle down to her lair in the basement. Toss them around like rag dolls, or maybe just hold them down while a tentacle strangled the life out of them, down the throat until their little eyes bulged out and they stopped squirming.
Teenagers came sometimes, to throw their parties. They were especially fun to mess with, especially since they were disrespectful of her home in ways that the children couldn't think of. She rarely ever let one of them leave by the morning light.