Good was always Evil - Chapter 1

This is the end. I'm alone. No one is left... no one to help me, no one to hold me. My world is over...

Garrett Carter, a tall, slender, mocha colored Junior at La Guardia Arts high school in New York has just lost everything. His mother, father, two younger sisters, and baby brother whom he all treasured dearly. He stands outside his dark, twisted house in the rain, wanting to shout to the heavens for help, but he can't even open his mouth to speak one word to the police officers who surrounded the house. His family all laid in their blood-soaked rooms respectively, each one with a look of terror on the frozen faces.

He had woken up to go check on his baby brother, Gerard Carter, who he heard crying. He walked down the hall-way doesn't this kid ever sleep? He came to the room, and the door was left open. No wonder he's crying, mom and dad must've left the door open, he hates that. He took a step into the room, then froze. There was a figure there, standing over Gerard's crib. It didn't look like his mother or father. He looked down at the floor, he was in a puddle of something wet. He was trapped in that position for a moment. Fear overwhelmed him. Who was this, standing over his beloved brother, what was it he was standing in, what was that awful smell, what was going on, why was he the only one who heard his brother crying? Suddenly, the figure turned it's head toward him - Garrett saw it's dark face just for a moment, then flicked on the lights. It was gone. The room was covered in blood, the walls, the carpet, the ceiling, his baby brother. Everything was stained with blood. Garrett let out a loud scream and ran to his brother's side, sobbing as he realized his brother was dead. He grabbed Gerard up into his arms and ran through the house, turning on all the lights he could find. He checked his sisters' rooms - dead. He checked his parent's rooms - dead. The same bloody scene in each room. He plopped down on the living room couch, Gerard still in his arms, hugged his dead brother's body tightly, securely, and sobbed. He sobbed more than he had ever in his entire life. More than when his girlfriend dumped him, more than when he moved from Florida, more than he ever imagined he would ever cry.

He sat there and cried until the police burst in through the front door - the neighbors called the police when they heard Garrett's bloodcurdling scream - and rushed up to him. "What's going on? What's happened? Is anybody hurt? Did you see the culprit?" Their questions overflowed him, but he was too scared to speak. He simply showed them the dead child in his hands. The men looked at him, wide-eyed. They stood there for a moment, then Garrett pointed towards the stairs. The men went up the stairs to discover his family's dead bodies and the blood. Two policemen escorted him outside, taking his dead baby brother away from him. They tried to question him, they begged and pleaded for response, but all he could do was cry and make hand motions and head nods. He had woken up to a house full of dead people, what was he supposed to do? Prance around and tell them his life story?





On the other side of the coast, we have Marcus Jones, a short but slender Asian Senior from Gretchen Whitney High School in California. "Hey! Ma! Pa! Anybody hoooome?" he says as he walks in the door, home from a study session with some kids from his AP Literature class. "Guys? It's 8 o' clock, you shouldn't be asleep yet!" he calls through the big beautiful home. It was weird... every Wednesday he sat down with his parents to watch whatever crazy documentary they could find on the History channel at 8, he always had to make sure he was home in time. He walked down the hall-way and noticed a bad smell coming from their room. They better not be doing one of their weird rituals again... "Mama! Papa! You're la --" he stopped. There was a black figure standing over their bodies laying on the bed. Wha... why... mama... papa... The figure turned to look at him, it's ugly, twisted, snarling face peering down at his soul. Marcus yelled out, "YOU! Get away from here!! Go!! Leave now!!" He ran towards the figure at full force, and it disappeared. He crashed into the wall wait... where'd it go?!?!?! He got up, and looked at the bed where his parents laid. The room and everything in it was soaked in blood, and his parents who he loved with his life and worked his whole life to place just laid there. Dead. Gone from this world. "God... why God!!! WHY?!?!!" he screamed. He ran downstairs and called the 911. "Please, help. My parents are dead. I don't know what happened. There was this black figure - no the light was on, it was just completely black. PLEASE! Just HELP ME!!"

Within moments the police were there. He had been pacing in his parents' room, waiting for the officers. "What happened?" an officer asked him as the other officers had begun searching the place for clues and checking for cause of death. "I don't know. I walked in the room, saw this... thing. I ran at it, but it disappeared, then I saw that my parents were dead. I didn't touch them, it's obvious they're dead. I had just gotten home from the library, I was studying with classmates. Look, i'll answer any questions you have, I don't care, but I don't know what that thing was. All I know is, it wasn't human."



The next day, Marcus's aunt called his cell phone. "Marcus! Baby! Are you OK?! The police called us and told us everything!! Baby, me and Uncle Zhao are going to come and bring you up here to Canada, OK?? You will come and stay with us, we'll get you clothes and take you out of school for a while until you're ready and we'll take you to a psychiatrist and everything will be fine baby." "OK auntie, I understand. When will you be here? I have to stay with the police until you come." "Don't worry, we'll be down in the next few days, and by the way, we're taking in another boy who just lost his family. His parents were good friends of ours and he just lost his family last night too. We were the only people he could find contacts for, so we'll be picking him up too, he's from New York, so we'll be stopping there first since it's closer, then to California to pick up you. Baby, hang in there, stay strong, and don't worry too much, everything will be fine. Love you, kisses, bye bye."

Everything will be fine... everything will be fine? My parents are dead. Nothing is fine, nothing will be fine. Nothing will ever be fine again now that they're gone. I might as well just die... it's not like I have anyone to live for anymore. Plus, that thing might just come back to get me too...