Silence. Silence that sends chills down the spine and speeds up the heart rate. Everything is in place. The two olive recliners adorned with matching throw pillows. The tall corner lamp casting a warm glow against the shaggy vintage carpet. Walls still a pleasant blue shade. Still a mishmash of styles resulting in a repulsive, yet charming interior. It is then that Her eyes trail to the front door, a figure lays crumpled up on the floor, covered in its own blood. Above it the door has been painted with two swirling demonic symbols. Painted with its blood. The it that was once a mother, a grandmother. The it that was once a human. Now a corpse. At closer examination she found that the corpse had been dragged down the stairs leaving a trail of her blood covered entrails behind her. Her head had been severed from what remained of her mutilated body. The eyes of the figure had been gouged out and were nowhere to be found. The amount of blood staining the floor was equivalent to a fully drained cow. The carpet absorbed it like a sponge. The puddles turning a foul sepia at the edges. An image of Rylan’s pallid face flash through her mind as she stumbles out of the house and back into the yard seeking her friend. But finding only a small boy standing in the grass.