Dreams To Nightmares, Part Six.

Read other parts first please! :)

"So Clinton. Do you believe the oldest girl believed what I said in that room?" Marisol leaned forward and took a drink from the cup in front of her. "Well, when we opened the closet, she was out cold. She must have believed you were a spirit. Suggestion and doubt are powerful things." Marisol opened her mouth to speak when a young woman walked through the door. "Mari, I have the youngest girl in my custody. What do you suppose I do with her?" "Give her some water and something to make her fall asleep, then take both of the girls to the attic and tie them up. I want to get rid of them so we can get out of here. I do not understand why I picked this as a hideout for tonight. This place gives me the creeps." "But what happens when they escape and tell their story to the police? If the police finds their story reliable, we could get caught. We should just kill them." The other male in the room said. "Evan, you know if we do that we will all get the death penalty. We're thieves for god's sake, not murderers." Clinton objected. "Shut up all of you!" the raven-haired girl interjected. "We will do as Mari said. The sooner we get out of here the better. I have been contemplating why the oldest child fainted. There was blood on the inside of that closet. I believe there is much more going on here than being an abandoned home. Just dump the children in the attic, get the money, and let's high-tail it out of here." "Yes, Evan, you retrieve the eldest and Clinton you get the youngest. I will take both to the attic and tie them up. After you bring them to me, get everything packed up. We will be leaving as soon as I come back down. Understood?" Marisol's accomplices nodded in agreement. When the others had gone to do their tasks, Marisol looked out the window and watched the wind pick up the leaves and whirl them around. She was convinced this house was more than it looked like. The darker it got, the more she felt the presence around her. Lost in her thoughts, she barely heard Clinton walk into the room with the sleeping children. Marisol turned and helped him carry them to the attic. After they dumped the girls in the attic, Marisol and Clinton practically ran down the stairs. The feeling Marisol had been experiencing earlier and increased ten fold. The others had gone ahead of her. All of a sudden, she heard a gunshot. The last thing she would ever hear.

Author's Note

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Reviews

[Cafe Reader]

I like it. Well written!

[Allison]

OooooooooOOOoooooooooooOOOOooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhh