A Night to Remember
31st of October, 2020
Stepping out of the shower, Monica's naked flesh was greeted by a chilling draught. Her skin broke out in goosebumps as the hairs on her body stood up to investigate. Did Richard leave a window open? Swiping a robe from the hook, she threw it over her body and wrapped it around herself tightly. She crept her way to the living room, drying her frozen toes between the fibres of the carpet. After picking up her phone from the coffee table, she fell back onto the couch in front of her laptop.
- 8:59 PM -
Looking at the time on her phone, Monica wondered why her husband and daughter hadn't returned yet. An unwelcome thought itched her, but it was quickly dispelled as she looked at how happy the three of them were together on her phone's wallpaper. No, that was thirteen years ago, she remembered. He's a different man now.
Seeking a distraction, she leaned forward and pulled the table closer to her, opening up her WeSteem page on the laptop.
- No new notifications -
The cold air besieged her once more, and she began to dry herself with the robe while scrolling through her feed. A meme depicting a merry-go-round captured her attention. "What goes around comes around," she read. If only that were the case, she thought, while offering an upvote. Scrolling past an instant karma video and a trailer for the latest Avengers movie, she arrived at an emotional post about foster parenting. Her mind was thrust back to a memory of a childhood friend, and the horrors she had endured in foster care. Perhaps Richard and I should adopt, she considered, while hitting the upvote button once again. Directly below was a status update from Monica's friend Lola.
"Game of Thrones had it right. All MEN must die."
Monica's heart sank as she remembered what her friend was going through. She thought to send a message but was interrupted before she could figure out what to say.
- KNOCK KNOCK -
Jumping to her feet abruptly, Monica fastened the robe and threw the hood over her head. Drying her face frantically, she hurried to the front door and swung it open. Oh.
"Trick or treat!" Cried Little Orphan Annie and a miniature Count Dracula, their father behind them smiling.
"How about a treat?" Monica replied, crouching down and smiling at the two young children.
With nodding heads and eager eyes, the children opened up their bags to receive their treats. Reaching behind the door, Monica took hold of a handful of sweets and placed some in each of their bags.
"Thank you, Miss," said Little Orphan Annie, with her father echoing the gratitude with a nod and smile.
"Off you go then, little ones." She added. "And don't eat them all at once!"
As the family turned around and headed towards the next house, Monica stuck her head outside and searched around for her own. She caught no sight of them, but did notice a toy scythe on the step in front of her home. She darted outside and grabbed it, calling out to the three that had just left, "Hey! You must have have dropped this?"
"That's not ours," Count Dracula replied, before turning back around and hurrying to the next door.
Realising that an earlier trick-or-treater must have dropped it, Monica took the plastic scythe inside with her and threw it on the couch, jumping back into her seat and returning to her laptop.
- 1 new notification -
Monica reached out and clicked the icon. A chill shot up her spine.
- Death accepted your friend request -
Certain she must have misread it, she leaned closer to the screen to get a second look. But a sudden sensation on her thigh provoked her knee to jolt up and smack the underside of the table. Her terror was abated by the realisation that it was simply her phone vibrating under her leg, but she became frustrated having knocked a vial of fake blood onto the carpet. She dropped to her knees quickly and grabbed the open vial, desperately trying to blot out the stain from the carpet with her sleeve. "Richard.." She complained, You never notice the mess you leave behind. Monica realised the stain was not going to come out. So she wiped her bloody hands dry on her robe, then sat back down while picking up her phone to check the notification.
- Death accepted your friend request on WeSteem -
The cold in the room bore through her robe and evoked a tremor of fear throughout her body. She found herself staring at the scythe on the other end of the couch. Accepted my request? Who's been on my WeSteem? Hopeful that her husband had accidentally added a friend of his own from her account, she collected herself with a deep breath and clicked on the link to Death's profile.
One glance at the profile page and Monica was calmed. The header image was an illustration of the grim reaper, and a recent resteem of a meme read, "Halloween is not just about pumpkins and fancy dress. It's about remembering the dead." She convinced herself it was a friend of her own who had edited their profile for the occasion. Curious to discover who, she began to investigate the profile's feed.
- Death likes "Gladiator" -
Monica nodded her head in agreement. Any movie with Russell Crowe is a great movie, she admitted.
- Death likes "The Punisher" -
No, She thought while shaking her head. Superhero movies are cheesy.
- Death is in relationship with Madison Bates. -
A swell of intrigue came over Monica as she wondered who this account belonged to. She reached out and poured herself a glass of red wine before taking her investigation to Madison's profile. Wow, she murmured. You could leave something to the imagination..
Madison's profile was mostly private, but her header image was a very provocative selfie, and her most recent action was joining a group named, "Married but Seeking" three days ago.
Now Monica's curiosity was piqued. Death is a naughty boy, she laughed to herself, realising the mystery had just gotten a lot juicier. Believing that there was nothing more to be learned from Madison's profile, the newly inspired detective clicked back to look closer at Death's.
- Death is calling.. -
Monica's heart danced across her chest for a moment as the words popped up on the screen. She instinctively declined the call, immediately wishing that she had let it ring out. Now they know I seen it..
Starting to feel unsettled, she continued down the mystery man's feed, eager to discern who he was.
- Death posted an image -
Monica's thighs clamped together so tightly her knees cracked. Her body hurled over in fear as she remembered the draught in her home. Where are you Richard? She pleaded, as if trying to call out to him telepathically. She turned her gaze away from the photo of her front door and ran to lock it. Trying to remember how to breathe, she hurried back to the living room and grabbed her phone, quickly unlocking it and dialling her husband.
- No answer -
Is this a prank? she hoped. Is it Richard doing this to me? Monica wanted to investigate the draught but fear prevented her from leaving the living room. She downed the rest of her glass of wine, desperate to obtain some courage. Calm down, she told herself. This is obviously a Halloween prank.
Taking a deep breathe, she sat back down on the edge of her seat leaning towards the laptop. As she went to scroll further down Death's feed her hand shot backwards.
- Death is calling.. -
Her gut cried out for help as the notification popped up on the screen again. She quickly declined the call for a second time. In a moment of bravery she opened a chat and began to type to Death. "WHO ARE YOU?"
A lifetime passed by as Monica squirmed in terror, caressing the underside of her thighs in an effort to comfort her shaking body. Another lifetime went by and still no response. She leaned forward to write another message-
- Death is calling.. -
Monica decided not to decline it this time. She picked up her phone again and tried to call Richard. No response from her husband arrived, but one from Death appeared in the chat box.
"You will answer.."
No I fucking won't, she knew, but was too afraid to reply.
The call stopped ringing and the notification box disappeared from the screen. A second later a link appeared in the chat. Hesitantly, Monica clicked on it to find a news article dated November 11, 2007.
"5 YEAR OLD BOY FINDS MOTHER HANGED FROM CURTAIN POLE"
Monica's heartbeat rang so loud throughout her body she struggled to hear her own thoughts. What.. What does this have to do with me? Confused, Monica leaned forward to ask why she was shown this, but before she could start typing, Death replied once more.
"..for your crimes."
What? She questioned, but was quickly interrupted again.
- Death is calling.. -
Monica's curiosity overwhelmed her fear and she reached out and accepted the call. Her heart grew heavy and her eyes began to tear up as webcam footage of her eight year old daughter eating a candy apple appeared on the screen. "Dana!" she cried out, but it became apparent very quickly that her daughter could not hear her. "Don't you touch my daughter," she yelled out in a rage - an empty threat, aimed at nobody. Harrowed with fear she grasped her phone once again, this time to call the police. But as soon as the emergency operator picked up, the phone slipped from her hand as she watched the live stream switch to another camera.
"You bastard," she mumbled, as she watched her shirtless husband laying his hands and his mouth all over another woman. Is that Madison? Monica's shoulders grew heavy as her fear and her confusion was abated by a mass of realisation. It was thirteen years ago to the day that Richard and she had been upstairs, while his girlfriend's son had sat where she was sitting right now, eating the candy he had collected that night. She now understood that, just as Richard had used the excuse of trick-or-treating with the boy to sneak off to see her that night, he had done the same thing tonight to see Madison.
Her hatred for her husband was overshadowed by remorse, and by relief that her daughter was likely safe. This was just a sick joke, she thought - and one that she felt she deserved. She could not bear to look at the screen anymore, and put her arm forward to close the laptop - but then she noticed it.
Her breath stopped, and her heartbeat grew violent, as she looked upon the shadowy figure at the far side of the webcam. "Richard!" she called out, though he could not hear, and was far too distracted by Madison's neck to notice even if he could. The figure on the screen started creeping towards the bed and Monica grew nauseous as the night's events began to fit together in her head. A slapping sound echoed throughout the room as her hands sprang up to cover her eyes from what she knew was to come next.
Through the gaps in her fingers she caught sight of the hooded man in black approaching Richard from behind, slinging something around his neck, and dragging him from Madison's body onto his back. The heartbeats permeating her eardrums became like the ticking of a clock - one that was counting down the remaining seconds her husband had to live. Her eyes flooded with tears and her vision became blurry, but she was able to observe her husband's legs stop kicking as the life fled his strangled corpse.
Monica could barely control her shaking body, but the sudden remembrance of her daughter's predicament provided her with the composure to bend down and grab her phone.
"Hello? Please respond." Said a voice on the phone. "Can you hear me?"
Monica was about to answer, but her attention was once again stolen by the screen. The webcam feed was gone as the call had been ended, but a new notification had arrived.
- Death sent you an image -
"Wait," Monica replied to the phone. She was terrified to look at the image but her worry for Dana forced her to.
The image was a photo of her bedroom dresser. The top drawer lay open, and a hangman's rope she had never seen before lay inside. The skin on her face became as a prune as she started to sob dramatically. Never! she told herself. I don't deserve to die for an affair I had thirteen years ago! Desperate to escape her torment, she reached over and closed the WeSteem tab on her browser.
"5 YEAR OLD BOY FINDS MOTHER HANGED FROM CURTAIN POLE"
With the WeSteem tab closed the news article presented itself one again. Her stomach seemed to shrink into nothingness as the words within the article began to jump out at her. Suicide.. Abandoned.. Foster care.. Her throat began to close up and a bitter taste filled her mouth. She read on to learn that a five year old boy was made an orphan after finding his mother's body. The woman had suffered from mental health issues, and had reportedly committed suicide in response to her boyfriend of two years abandoning her. Did he know?
Monica couldn't stop herself from crying out loud as she rolled up in a ball on the couch and covered her entire face with her hands. She begged - and she prayed to wake up in her bed and discover this whole night had been one terrible nightmare. But she knew it wasn't, and for a moment she wished she were dead.
A knock on the door distracted her and she wiped the tears from her face. She had intended to stand up, but as she removed her fingers from her eyes, she caught sight of the toy scythe through her blood-soaked hands and remembered the five year old Grim Reaper that had sat in that very spot thirteen years ago, eating a bag of sweets.
THIRTEEN MINUTES LATER..
Dana walked out of her neighbour's front door in shock and looked across the street to see two police cars and an ambulance parked outside her home. She hurried across just in time to overhear an officer speaking to his colleague.
"We found the mother deceased, hanging from a curtain pole by a rope. No sign of the father or daughter yet."
"Mum?" She whispered, just loud enough to catch the attention of one of the officers.
An officer approached quickly and bent down to greet her. "Are you Dana?"
The little girl felt empty. "Yes."
"Come here, let me see you." The officer added. "That's a great costume. Are those scales?"
"Yes. I'm Lady Justice," She replied, realising that she was now an orphan.
Thanks for reading! There'll be plenty more to come soon!