Black-Eyed Silence

When you find the children lining the street, perhaps it's best to continue driving.

No one has ever accused me of being a “kids” person. It’s not that I don’t like them, but, well, maybe I don’t. When I arrived home from work to find my street lined with the neighborhood beasties, I cringed. Where are their parents? At freaking one in the morning?

Driving down the tree-lined road, I realized how unnervingly still each child stood, their faces to the street, eyes unblinking. Not one moved or acknowledged my car. After passing the first three, no older than ten, I drove slower. A tight coil of fear grew in my stomach. What in the world was going on?

Next to two boys I recognized, I pulled over. Leaving my engine running, for some reason not comfortable turning it off, I hopped out of my car. The two little boys, I think their names were Kole and Jason, stood side by side, their pajama arms just touching. They stared forward, their mouths pulled into a tight-lipped grimace.

Something was wrong with their faces. It took me a moment to figure it out.

When I did, I almost peed myself in shock. Their eyes were completely swallowed by an opaque darkness, solid black. No definition of iris or pupils, just empty depths. Goosebumps raised against my skin and I stumbled backward, trying not to panic,

Finally, I recovered from my shock and leaned back in. I whispered, “Kole? Jason?”

Nothing. They didn’t so much as blink. I touched Kole’s seven-year-old shoulder and gave him a gentle shake. His body swayed with my contact, but otherwise, no response.

I glanced up and down the road, at the children lining the sidewalk. The urge to scream welled up. How could no one notice their children missing? My eyes trailed down to the front of Kole’s buttoned ninja turtle shirt. The answer to one of my questions revealed itself.

Moist blood darkened the fabric. When I examined Jason’s Captain America shirt, it shared the same splatter pattern. I took a step back and examined the girl standing a house down. Her pink, frilly gown was stained and her black eyes burned into the air in front of her.

I reached into my uniform pants and pulled out my cell phone. I got 9-1 dialed in before I froze. Kole and Jason turned their head as one, their soulless eyes focused on me. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the other children also stared at me.

I lowered my phone to my side, studying the dark-eyed munchkins. Their empty gazes made my hairs stand at painful attention.

“Kole?” I whispered, begging him to awaken from whatever strange trance he was in.

The street was dead silent except for the distant rush of the cars on the main road. No dogs barked, no birds rustled in their roost, no babies cried for an early morning feeding. Just quiet.

The boys took a step towards me. I noticed how slick their little fingers were, some of the nails torn off in whatever frenzied activity they participated in. My butt tapped against my car when I stepped back. The engine still hummed.

Taking a deep breath, I turned to bolt for the driver side. My attention had been focused on the two boys. I had missed the other children silently moving in behind me, cutting off my escape. Their pupilless eyes held me, daring me to make a move.

All of them matched in their little blood-stained pajamas, their eyes black and empty. I raised my phone and pressed the last 1 and ‘call’. The operator answered but she only got to listen to me scream as the children converged.

Their tiny fingers dug into my flesh, ripping with inhuman strength. I punched someone small but there were too many, all quiet in response to my agonized shrieks. I couldn’t fight off all the talons, the silent bloodlust. I dropped to my knees, driven to their level.

One more scream tore out of me before one of the demons reached their fingers into my mouth, tearing at my tongue. Salty blood filled my mouth, choked me. As tiny fingers scratched at my eyelids, gouging at the sensitive jelly beneath, it was only a precursor to the horrible death awaiting me. I blindly swung, connecting with small bodies, but they were replaced by more. More clawing, tearing, agony.

And still, only my blood-filled gurgles filled the void of sound, the juicy squelsh of my flesh rending; my impending death.

Breaking into the monotony of the rush of blood in my ears and my slowing heartbeat, I distantly heard the operator’s voice calling out, “Hello?”

Only silence responded.