The children at the Seaburn orphanage followed a strict schedule. They awoke at dawn, ate, and shuffled into the school wing of the building. At noon, they ate and then were allowed on the playground outside. After that, they finished the school day and took a two hour excursion into the town. There, they bought penny candy and played with the local children. At precisely six in the evening, they walked back, ate supper, did their chores, and went to bed.

The last anyone saw of them was when they went back into the orphanage eight months ago. The next day it was announced that one of the children had died. The headmistress said five year old Jamie Carter had died of pneumonia while she slept. Everyone had seemed to accept the story, but I was more apprehensive. You see, the night before she died, five year old Jamie Carter was playing with my sister. She was fine, cherubic and happy and fine.

And then she died, just like that.

A week after she died, a fence was built around the playground. This struck no one as odd. The headmistress cited safety reasons; they couldn’t risk having a child wander off. The fence was huge. A concrete base that rose six feet and chain link for another five. No one ever saw the grounds again.

Until I, the utter genius that I am, decided to jump the fence. Something wasn’t right at Seaburn, and I wanted to know what they were covering up. I wanted to know how a perfectly healthy child could die of pneumonia in one night. I wanted to know what dark secret they were trying to hide with an eleven foot fence.

The playground was empty, completely abandoned. Brown leaves made a carpet over the asphalt and crunched under my feet. The swings were sun-bleached, as were the kickballs and basketballs scattered around the grounds, and white streaks of bird crap dotted everything. I made my way across the playground, stepping over discarded toys as I went. The door was locked. I circled the school, looking for a way in when I saw it. My golden ticket. The back door into the kitchen was propped open with a chair.

The kitchen stunk. The door to the freezer was open, and the smell of rotten meat permeated the room. Flies buzzed around excitedly. This must have been heaven for them, but it was hell for me. As I tried to get as far away from the stench as possible, I found what must’ve been fruits and vegetables at one point. Now, however, they were nothing but brown puddles. They, too, stunk.

I stepped into the cafeteria, and my stomach dropped. There weren’t any tables in the room. Instead, dozens of bodies in various stages of decay were placed in a circle. I realized now that much of the smell was coming from the corpses. Even across the room, I could see the maggots crawling over hands, faces, and clothes.

Then came the clicking of heels on the wooden floors. The headmistress entered the cafeteria with her chin in the air. Her ever-present scowl was in place as her chin lowered. “What are you doing in here? You should be in class,” she said.

“What did you do to them?”

“Sir, I do believe you are missing class.”

“Why would you do that? They were children!”

Her eyes turned manic. Suddenly her scowl was a grin, a horrible, toothy, disconcerting grin. “Children? They were not children; they were demons. Tiny demons who thought it alright to bring chaos and disobedience into this establishment. I had to protect the innocent ones.” She looked around at the corpses. “Do you see them? Even now, they taunt me. The demon is still alive; it smiles at me.”

I backed away. As she turned her back, I ran. I’d never run faster. The fence was in plain view, and if I could hop it, I could get help. I made it halfway across the playground when I was hit. Then everything went black.

Just like that.