Playground of the Lost Children (short horror/ghost story)
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Teen (13-17)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
we have been bickering about the bad man's true nature. When Kelly announced, The bad man is a demon like my granny used to tell me about and he's coming tonight. The other kids fell silent, their wide eyes looking up at her. Kelly had been killed back in the eighties, the bad man's first victim and the others thought of her as an expert of sorts. One of the twins started crying, and the other quickly tried to comfort her sister in hushed whispers. I knew I would see them sitting side by side on the swings if I turned a look. Embracing through the rest of chains, I cleared my throat and push my non existent glasses up my nose habit left over from when I had been alive. There's no such thing as demons, and there's no way for you to know if the bad man is. Kelly's anger was palpable. Crashing over me like a wave ish yelled just because you were some kiddie Einstein doesn't mean you know everything. Her outburst ended as quickly as it had begun, and she sagged against the rails of the merry go round. Besides, he got you two, didn't a, she added sullenly. I wrote my eyes lying back against this planet seesaw with my hands behind my head. She was right, of course, and it made me furious. My parents had high hopes for me in life, boasting that I'd be the first member of the family to finish college. But the bad man had killed me. All the same. I should have seen through The ruse immediately should have run when he asked me to help him find his dog. I didn't, though, and the memory made me burn with shame. Kelly's prediction proved to be right. When the bad man came later that night, the young ones had been playing tag in moonlight when his resonant voice came booming down the path through the woods. We froze is one, our eyes desperate as we looked at each other, I wince when he arrived at the playground, his impending victim cradled in one burly arm. The girl couldn't have been any older than four. Billy was seven, and he had been the youngest until tonight. We watched in sick horror as the bad man set her down on the foot of the slide, dropping to one knee to smell broadly into her face, the sea and brought a flood of memories. And I'm sure we were all privately reliving her own murders. As the girl began to cry, Kelly screamed in rage, her eyes wild. Is she bore down on him with arms outstretched. She always tried to stop the bad man, and I was shocked when her hands actually connected with this flesh. He fell hard, splitting his scalp open on a stone and cried out in shock. The girls carried off the slide, but he didn't notice her leave. As he wiped the blood from his eyes, his head jerked uncontrollably on his deck as he looked around him, and for the first time he saw us. Recognition slowly dawned on the bad man's face. His eyes darted between us, a scream escaping his gaping mouth when he realized the spirits of his victims surrounded him. The playground was abandoned far from civilization, a trade he had once valued in. His cries for help went unheard. Kelly stared at her hands, flexing her fingers, and smiled. Predator early in triumph, the crack of her fist smashing into his job, echoed loudly through the trees. One by one, the rest of the Children emerged from their hiding places. His screams intensified as they descended on him, but they could not drown out the snap of breaking bones. I began to join them, eager to take my vengeance, but stopped in my tracks. When I thought about the living girl, I found her cowering behind the slide, her hands clasped tightly over her ears to muffle the bad man screams. Her eyes widened as I approached her face, a textbook example of fear. I smelled us warmly as I could, taking her living hands in my ethel real ones. Go home, go as fast as you can, I whispered softly. The girl cast one last look at the man being torn to pieces on the ground before she ran down the path. The bad man screams, fell silent behind me as I watched her go. Then I side. I had missed my chance for revenge. But as the girls scurry through the darkness, I felt the shadow of a smile on my lips. There would be no more ghosts who came to dwell in the playground, and perhaps we could all finally go home