Don’t Talk To Strangers

Twisted Imaginings – A Horror And Gore Themed Blog.

Sophie had settled in nicely with her grandparents. She’d been with them for almost two years now and, despite those first few horrendous few months, was a lot more sociable. Moving two hundred miles, changing schools and her continued therapy sessions all played a huge part in her feelings of insecurity but it was all for the better they at first hoped, then become accustomed to. She had been adamant that the reason for starting the fire was to be rid of Him but had started to accept it was because she just didn’t like her mother’s new partner. Raging hormones were probably behind some of her fantasies that Mr Twigs was not only real but fully responsible for all the problems at school too. Her new teachers were impressed by how, once she had settled in and her good grades.

Which is why, that bright and pleasant Sunday morning Derek and Cynthia were talking with Sophie about a day trip to the coast. Sophie was lost in her MP3 player, the latest boy bands assaulting her eardrums with twee declarations of eternal love. It took a fair bit of cajoling but finally she muttered something about not feeling well and how she would rather stay in. Her grandparents had been wary of leaving her alone but, since she was almost thirteen it would be fine.

They left to go shopping, leaving her with strict rules for the few hours they would be out, mainly about not answering the doorbell or phone and only going outside to the garden. At this her eyes flickered before Sophie agreed to the rules.

Which is why, about half an hour after they left, she was stood near the swing, staring at the bushes with a smile on her face. Nobody would have heard anything but a rustling of the leaves. Sophie, transfixed by the bushes, smiled and nodded agreeably. Turning on her heel, she sprinted back into the house.

At just after 5pm, DCI Carter and DS Harris pulled up outside the house. This was the worst aspect of their job, but was one that was necessary. The social worker, Amanda Stevens, had gone on ahead, and they noticed her pale blue Astra parked a few cars along. The partially open front door wasn’t much cause for concern but, as they entered, the trail of blood and flesh stopped them in their tracks. Neither police officer was armed with a gun, so they stuck together as they inspected the ground floor. All the rooms were empty and the gruesome, deepred trail led to the garden door.

Stepping into the garden, they spotted Sophie instantly, her teen face almost glowing with happiness as she swung and hummed to herself. The trail of gore went just past her to the bushes.

Quickening their pace, they stood in front of her within seconds. Sophie, her eyes glazed over, kept humming as she swang, her face a delightfully surreal one of contentment.

“Emily?”, Carter paused. “What on Earth happened?”.

A slight darkness flitted over her face as she registered their presence.

“Oh, I’m not allowed to talk to strangers”, she said brightly.

“But….where has all the blood come from?”, Harris enquired.

“Mr Twigs. He got angry and killed her. My grandparents too”. She giggled then, throwing her hair back and swinging higher.

“Sophie, Mr Twigs isn’t real!”, Carter groaned. With that, Sophie leapt from the swing and regarded him with an icy glaze.

As he began to speak more kindly to her, Sophie let out an enormous screech. Both policemen, startled by her sudden change in mood, attempted to placate her, but it was too late.

As she skipped back up to the house, she stopped a moment to regard the foul creature tearing both men to shreds. “You’re welcome, Mr Twigs!”, she said gaily, and continued back up to the house.

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