Derry, Maine home of families. Years beforehand it had been deemed one of the most pleasant place in the United States, a place for growing businesses and those seeking somewhere other than large scale city life to raise their children. No orphanages were run in the town for it wasn't necessary. Wasn't needed. Parents took care of their children, raised them, loved them and adored who they would become. No discrimination, no hate crimes, loud music would blare from teenagers cars and the old folks would simply say, "That's kids for ya."
Peaceful lives didn't run rampant in many places, and of course since you are reading this you should know already that this place was not as wonderful as it seemed. Darkness may prevail at times, yet it is amazing how others completely remove it from their minds if it is needed. Like all small towns secrets prevailed over outright lies, and half-truths were the king of the world. Adults saw nothing wrong with this, tucking their children into sleep at night, wishing them good dreams.
Here was the town that is written about in Grimm's fairy tales, a community of people trying to live out their remaining years with enjoyment just constantly saying it could be worse.
Marianne was always punctual when attempting to get home from late study, her parents having told her not to stay out late at night. In fact, the one thing nobody ever did was stay out late. Curfew kept them inside, and a curfew is exactly what was needed in order to keep as many in the town safe.
The curfew had been enacted in 1978 after the "slaughter of indignity", a tale that history books kindly omit. Late one night, despite warnings of parents and whole families a group of friends had decided to go camping in the woods, defying tales of something that preyed on the weak at night. They never saw it; never heard howls in the wind or screams echoing across the moonlit night.
Sitting around the campfire, telling ghost stories nobody would be able to tell these children that there was something out there far worst than anything they could have imagined properly. As such it was that, as the tale goes, a stranger came up to the campfire and sat down with the teens as they were toasting marshmallows and drinking their beer.
All eyes looked upon the ragged stranger. His appearance was not one of utter disgust, but you felt as looking upon him were something better not to be done. Boys being boys, the guys inflated their chest trying to convince the stranger to not do anything wrong. These were their women, he couldn't have them, if he tried anything they would beat him down.
The stranger smiled a wicked grin able to freeze hearts of the bravest, yet in the darkness and by only the light of the fire the grin seemed more maniacal than evil. Conversation began again, slowly, the stranger never leaving the fire, eyes darting between each of them, resting more prominently on the girls of the group.
In a brief moment their laughter was followed by screams. Mere seconds elapsed as the stranger removed the two boys heads swiftly, cleanly right off their bodies. Girls screamed and got to their feet attempting to flee to no avail. The stranger blocked them both no matter where they went, slamming them to the ground with great speed and precision.
In the morning the parents had called the police and a search had gotten underway. It didn't take long for the bodies to be found. Two boys with their heads missing, then shortly found between the legs of two girls, one still alive. Shock had settled in quickly and only vague pieces of what had happened could ever be heard from the living girl. Quickly she had been put into the asylum, which there were many patients, had over thirty years afterwards up until her death only vague fragments could be deciphered.
It was in this town that newspapers had called the best place in America where events like this took place. Curfew was strictly enforced, and the jail-house quickly turned into a quasi-motel filled with drunks and teens attempting to break curfew. Everything was taken seriously, everything.
Yet, during the day the town was peaceful, calm and serene. Happiness filled the hearts of people living there for they knew something was wrong in the night and enjoyed their lives as much as they could. As such, it was beyond Marianne why she had to hurry home after her bible study despite having read of the slaughter. Things like that never actually happened, yet she would always hurry home after her Wednesday night meetings to greet her parents lovingly by the door.
Despite actually owning a car (her parents had bought it for her when she turned fifteen), she had constantly failed her test and continued to have to walk home. Most of the kids in town owned cars, and not surprisingly the driving qualifications were lower than in many other towns across the nation. Curfew and all that. Still, she had not passed, not because she was dumb but more that she always thought they were trick questions and refused to believe that something as simple as that was actually the answer.
So, she walked home. Daydreaming of her bedroom, her computer where she posted to a blog, and of a mystical world where everything was different. Fear was no prevalent in the world and hunger had been eradicated. Her mind would wander all over the world in attempts to change everything with nothing more than a kind thought.
This is not how the world works, but it was a nice theory for her to believe in.
Thoughts like this is what kept her from noticing the setting sun until it was vastly too late. Streetlights illuminated all around her and the inclination that something was wrong finally dawned on her. She was late, very, VERY late in getting home. Thankfully she had decided against wearing something impractical and had on running shoes.
Sprinting towards her home thoughts kept creeping in, "What the hell are you running for. None of it's real, it's all an illusion that parents dreamed up in order to keep children in line."
Her pace slowed, significantly, and for the first time in her life Marianne began to enjoy the night air and calming chill it brought to her skin. She looked up at the blossoming night sky and found it wonderful to behold. The moon so perfectly illuminating everything and stars above sparkling, winking at her. Intense, it was all so very intense for her having never even gone into her backyard to look up at it.
She felt at peace.
Three sets of eyes watched her from a good distance. The one with the leather coat and chains smiled, white pearls of teeth set together between two large fangs sparkled as one with stars above.
"Interesting," he spoke to his brothers, "not just anyone, but a young one."
Heavyset with muscle the large one spoke up, "Thank the maker, I have gotten rather tired of drunks too thin of blood for a good meal."
"And a pretty woman at that," said the short one, "more fun is to be had with this one than any of the others."
The one in the leather coat spoke up, "Yes, indeed. Haven't seen one this young in several years now."
"Can you smell her? She's vestal, how delightful." The large one spoke with a bit of a squeal in his voice.
Shorty looked at his brother, "Be calm, we shall have some fun tonight from this one. We must be quick, though."
"Yes, perhaps the safe haven down the street." The leather one said.
