Delilah's Creepy Story

Delilah's Creepy Story

Delilah loved playing games.  Tag, hop scotch, jump rope, hide and seek.  She thought she was very good at games.  She was a petite little girl who was too fast to catch and was small enough to fit her body into the best hiding spots.  She always laughed carelessly and loved seeking adventure.  She used to play games with her siblings all the time but the problem was they didn’t like playing with her anymore.  They were afraid of her.  

You see, Delilah had a little secret but she didn’t even realize it.  A dark entity had attached itself to her and ever so slightly controlled Delilah’s behaviour.  Her siblings didn’t know exactly what was wrong with her but their intuitions told them something about Delilah was just different.  She used to have a warm light in her green eyes but now they looked like pools of vacant, pale swamp water.  She hardly smiled the way she used to.  Her lips were dry and usually pursed.  She often had a perplexed expression on her face.  When she laughed now, her eyes remained flat and the sound was offensive like chewing on rusty nails.  The past few months, they often played games together.  It used to start out as a fun time but then someone would get mysteriously hurt.  But never Delilah.  No one actually saw Delilah cause the incidents directly but they just somehow knew she was the one responsible for the injuries.  

Today, Delilah was in a good mood.  She wore her favorite dress and fixed her hair bow.  She skipped down the hall to her brother’s room and popped open the door.  He was sitting on his bed reading a book and their other brother and sister were laying stomach down on the floor coloring in their own books.  Delilah’s face beamed and she cheerily asked them if they’d like to play a game of hide and seek in the house.  They lived in a big house with many rooms and lots of good hiding spots.  They all looked up at her and an awkward silence filled the room.  They stared just a little too long at her face.  Delilah shifted uncomfortably reading the tension in the room.  Her older brother who was sitting on the bed cleared his throat and got up.  He walked over to Delilah and gently placed his hand on her shoulder and said “not today” and ushered her out of his room, closing the door behind her.  She stared blankly for a moment at the unsympathetic door then a voice hissed in her ear.  “Deeellliiaahhh” , she startled for a second then a small smirk spread on her dry lips and the flaky skin cracked in response.  That familiar cold vibrational feeling filled her head.  

“What?” She whispered.  

“Kill them” the voice whispered gently and Delilah knew that was the right thing to do.  

The cool vibration fizzled away and Delilah casually went back to her own bedroom and played with her dollhouse for the evening.  

That night, the voice was back.  “Delliillaahhh” it hissed and her bloodshot eyes shot open.  She listened to what it wanted and she pulled back her covers, got out of bed, left her room and tiptoed through the quiet foyer to the front door.  She slowly etched the large door open and slipped outside closing it quietly behind her.  The grass was damp and cool under her bare feet and she had the urge to lay down in it and chill the rest of her body.  Lately, she preferred the cold to anything.  The colder her body felt, the more comfort she felt.  She made her way to her father’s shed as the voice guided her on what to look for.  She quite enjoyed scavenger hunts and was pleased to participate in this particular one.  She rifled through various tool boxes and a tall cabinet.  It was there she found it.  A small Machete that the gardeners used for clearing brush around her home.  It felt a little heavy in her small pale hands and she stared at it blankly for a moment before the voice hissed at her again.  It told her what to do with it and she turned and headed back towards the house.  When Delilah made it to the front door and tried to turn the knob she discovered it was locked.  Their housekeeper must’ve discovered the door was left unlocked and locked it herself.  Puzzled, Delilah waited for the voice to advise her next move.  She held the machete by the wooden handle and dangled it by her side.  Crickets chirped around her but they were the only noise in the otherwise silence that engulfed that night  Confused, her eyes widened and she looked down at the machete unable to make sense of how she got here and why she was holding this.  

“Deeelliillaahh”  It was back, and it felt like a cool hug around her body.  “The chiimmnneeyyy” it whispered.  Without hesitation, Delilah headed to the side of the house where the lattice ran up to its peak.  She carefully placed the machete between her teeth and began her climb on the lattice to the roof of the house.  The chimney seemed wide enough to accommodate her small frame if she schooched her body down it’s brick structure.  The machete felt uncomfortable between her teeth and her dry lips ached.  She didn’t like holding it that way but the voice was reassuring her to do it, sending a comforting vibration to her head.  She cautiously lowered her body into the chimney.  She pressed her back against one side while her knees bent in front of her so she could firmly plant the soles of her feet against the other side.  With her back straight, hands against the walls to her sides, and machete in mouth she began to slowly walk her body down the chimney shaft.  It was very dark inside the chimney.  She could barely see the brick wall in front of her.  She didn’t mind the dark though.  After all, she had met the friend that’s in her head back when she was crouching in the dark depths of her closet during a game of hide and seek once.  She missed playing those games.  Her brothers and sisters didn’t want to play games with her anymore.  She stuck her lip out and pouted.  The voice cooed reassurances to her and reminded her this is why she was on her mission… to make it all better.  

She continued to make her way down the shaft.  She was halfway down the chimney when her body fell faster than her feet could move.  Before she knew it, her feet were above her head and her body was curved into a U-shape between the brick walls.  She tried to shimmy herself upright again but discovered she was unable to move.  She was stuck.  A whimper escaped her mouth through the machete and it’s sharp metal edge ever so slightly dug into her lower abdomen.  She started to panic and couldn’t fathom what was going on.  The voice stifled her emotions and instructed her on what to do next.  Her expression went blank and she reached for the machete and removed it from her mouth.  The cold sensation hit her again and it ran chills down her spine.  It was stronger than she ever felt it.  She relished in it.  She felt like she was in a dream as she lowered the sharpened side of the machete to her right leg.  She pressed the blade to the skin of her upper thigh and started carving into it.  Her hand made short quick back and forth  movements as she severed the flesh of her leg.  Something in the back of her mind meekly admitted that this should be painful, she should be scared, but the cold vibration abruptly stomped out that thought.  Hand still moving quickly, she carved through the layers in her leg.  Skin, Fatty tissue, Nerves, Muscle and tendon, the blade glided through each layer like a cold stick of butter.  The tepid blood oozed over her skin and made everything feel slippery. 

She reminisced about Thanksgiving with her family.  How mother would carve the turkey and her siblings would tease that whoever got to the wishbone first was in charge for the day.  She giggled, the sound was hoarse and crackled... she distantly thought how it sounded wretched, nothing like it used to.... The blade made a light clank against the bone.  Still in a painless, dream state, she worked on the bone for a while.  It was like carving through a tree branch like she used to do with her siblings when they built little forts in the yard for fun.  She put more pressure into her sawing motions until the bone finally gave way and broke off from the rest of her leg.  She listened, amused, as the leg plummeted down the chimney shaft and hit the stone base of the fireplace with the heavy wet slap. It kind of sounded like she dropped a small pile of damp towels down there.  Her mind wandered.  The voice encouraged her to keep moving so she didn’t hesitate further.  She moved the machete blade to her left leg and started carving frantically, only this time it was below the knee.  The same layers applied, skin, fat, nerves, muscle, tendon then the anticipated bone.  Her sawing was slowed down this time as she felt weaker from the loss of blood.  The supernatural force was pushing her physical body to it’s limit but this bone took longer to get through.  The machete finally cut all the way through and her amputated leg met the other at the bottom with another wet towel slap sound, she tried to adjust her body out of her u shape position but she was still wedged in by her thighs.  She could free herself if she just turned her body.  But she was so sleepy.  Her head lolled to the side as she drifted off to sleep.  “Dellliillaahhh'' The voice whispered.  Her eyes cracked open slowly.  They felt swollen, heavy, a struggle to stay open.  The voice sounded so distant this time.  The cool vibration was all over her body and she felt colder than she ever had before.  The feeling was soothing and she vaguely thought to herself how she could take a wonderful nap right here in this spot.  Her hands relaxed and the machete fell from her grip and rested against her upper thighs.  She thought she heard raindrops off in the distance and smiled weakly.  Her eyes closed again as she took one last shallow breath.  Everything was so quiet except for the  Drip...Drip... Drip...Drippp sound of her blood as it steadily splattered at the bottom of the fireplace.

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