Voices
Ronnie woke up yet again. This was maybe the third time he had woken up so far. But he didn’t wake up on his own.
Someone had called him.
He looked at his bright-green luminous clock. It was 3 in the morning.
He had been suffering from insomnia the last two months – his job was not going
on well, his parents now barely noticed him (kind of ignored him), and his
alcoholism was getting worse.
‘Do it.’
Someone out of the darkness…who?
Ronnie got up and looked himself in the mirror. He looked extremely
unpleasant in that beard and moustache he had. The 23-year old’s eyes were red,
and almost narrowed down.
‘Do it.’
Again, that voice came from the stillness of the house…but who?
Ronnie smiled to himself.
Right.
So goddamn right.
He walked across his room to the cabinet where he kept all his prized
possessions, including a silver crucifix, a rare Beanie Baby teddy, some cash,
and
A high-powered rifle.
He took the rifle up and checked it a bit. Nah, it was alright. It was
perfect.
‘Perfect to kill….’
He turned around. No one, just the darkness faintly pierced by the
street lamps outside…
He then opened up a drawer. While taking out six bullets, he heard it
again…
‘Bloodshed…bloodshed of innocence…’
He suddenly felt a lurch in his stomach. What was he doing? Was he going
mad? Or…
Was he being told forcibly to do it?
Taking the rifle, he slowly opened the door and went outside. The
darkness in the house seemed to standstill, wondering what this young man was
doing all of a sudden at that time.
He slowly then moved towards the east. The room of his second brother and
first sister lay over there. Smiling and as if hypnotized, he slowly entered
the room.
The faint light fell on the upturned faces of the children. So gentle
they looked while asleep..so…
‘Kill. Murder.’
Ronnie looked at them, smiled, and then the rifle rang out.
‘BANG!.....BANG!’
Blood splattered on the bed sheets. The stomachs were profusely bleeding
out. But the victims did not pay any heed to it…they lay there, lost in sleep…
Ronnie staggered outside. He started climbing up the stairs. Inside, it
felt as if he was about to burst. Voice continuously hovered around…
‘Kill…’
‘Blood…blood…’
‘’I command you to murder…’
‘No one survives…’
‘Kill them all. Kill them all…’
Ronnie slowly entered the bedroom on the first floor. There his second
sister and first brother lay asleep. Smiling and with a look similar to a
psycho, he shot twice at the white bed, which turned red within seconds…
‘They shall not live…’
The voices continued to speak in his head as he half-staggered, half-ran
towards the second floor. His parents lay there asleep, after a hard day’s
work. However, Momma was a little awake, possibly because of the four loud
shots she had heard all of a sudden.
She was shocked to see her son Ronnie all of a sudden, with a rifle in
his hand, and blood smeared a little on his hands.
‘Ronnie?’
‘Hello there, mother.’ Ronnie replied. But it seemed like it came from
some other place, somewhere deep beneath…
Before Momma opened her mouth anymore, he shot the last two bullets of
the rifle at the bed, which turned blood-red in an instant. The light made the
blood gleam in the darkness.
‘You did it. Well done Ronnie.’
Ronnie threw the rifle down.
(what did I do?)
He stared at the dead bodies of his mother and father.
(oh jesus no no)
He ran out of the room, and stomped up to the attic.
(YOU LITTLE PIECES OF DEVIL!)
He stood beside the skylight, panting and horrified at what he had done.
(voices voices those sinful voices those murderous voices)
He heard – in the distance – a siren ringing. He looked into his watch.
It had stopped at 3.15 a.m.
Out of exhaustion and agonizing guilt, he fell down on the floorboards.
Just before he saw darkness, he saw someone in the dark doorway of the attic.
Two, white eyes of a little boy were staring at him.
***
13th November, 1974
‘This is WOR New York. Stay tuned for in conversation.’
….
‘First this bulletin from the WOR newsroom:
Six members of one family have been shot to death in
their night clothes, in their expensive home in Amityville, Long Island. The
only information at this moment according to the Amityville village police is
that the mem- victims have been identified as members of the DeFeo family. They
were found by a twenty-three year old son, Ronald DeFeo, who is believed to be
the only surviving member of the family. Six members of one family found shot
to death in their home in Amityville, Long Island.
We will have further details on the 11 o’clock news…’
***
I still do not understand what to say. Being dabbling in horror for so
long, I’ve almost like made up a belief for every case associated with the
paranormal. But this is way too hard then I imagined. Was Ronald DeFeo truly
hearing voices telling him to kill his family? Was it for some reason else? Or
did the belief that the house being built on an Indian burial ground, was…
True?
No, nothing. Just darkness. Just flickering on my bulb once in a while,
but still, there is darkness…
***
M.Macabre
13.11.2020
Dedicated to: Anonymous, Anastasius
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