My plan was simple. I slept with my eyes open. And stared at the black electric alarm clock. 10:15 p.m. 10:30 p.m. 10:45 p.m. Naturally, I could not sleep. My nerves were eager for the joy that I would experience once news of the detonation of that glorious bomb wafted back to my ears. Hopefully, Ethan had already buried it in the back garden. I bring up the word ‘hopefully’ because there was a recent setback. At 9 p.m., Andy radioed me and brought me some devastating news.

  “Calvin, I’m sorry but my mom is scary. She told me that if I pulled any more pranks with you, I’m off to military school. You have to do it by yourself.” These three sentences alone were worse than death. But the heist must go on.

  Once the numbers hit 12, I was out. I tiptoed across the wooden floorboards to the front door. That was actually unnecessary as my dad sleeps like a rock. Not even an atomic bomb can awaken him.

  Outside, the night was cool and quiet. The usual atmospheric ambience of air gently whispered into my ears. Other than that, no life (human or animal) stirred. A thick mist enveloped much of my surroundings. Beyond more than a few feet, visibility declined to zero. The only things that could be seen were the glowing orange orbs floating above the ground. Thank God for streetlamps.

  After a short, careful search, I found the tiny red flag in the garden and dug. In a few seconds, I had unearthed a small rectangular Amazon box. I opened it. Inside was a gleaming contraption of shining steel crisscrossed with a mess of plastic wiring and topped with a Motorola flip phone. Another flip phone of the same brand (V6) was not strapped. A note at the bottom of the box gave me the exact instructions: dial 843-777-136. Ethan was truly a brilliant engineer, on the level of Einstein and Edison. And as a loyal Gangster Guy, he had delivered on his promise. Nervous as he was, he still had the guts of manhood. And I’m proud of him.

  To gain access into the members-only Palmetto Tower, I waited behind a pillar as some business executive in extremely red high heels exited a black limousine. Because she had the exclusive lock, I had an easy pathway ahead of me. However, I had to wait until she was a few meters away and the door was about to close before it was the time to rush in. Thank God for that business executive. Thank God she did not notice me. Thank God the security was absent from the front desk.

  The elevator lobby was magnificent-gold doors surrounded by molten turquoise marble that seemed to ooze with mysterious power. The elevator interior was equally luxuriant-wood panelling that contained a house of mirrors that stretched to infinity on all sides and corners. The darkness beyond just a few mirrors could have been frightening but I was too busy making funny faces. Ding! I arrived at the 11th floor and easily found Unit 1108.

  I tried the door. It was locked. But it was no problem to me as I was an excellent lockpicker. Using a paperclip, I picked it and boom, the door swung open. I crept inside, stealthier than a mouse and even more stealthier than the Invisible Man.

  The interior was very futuristic. The color was chalky-white and when my flashlight shined upon the walls, they almost blinded my eyes. The edges were so smooth that they could function as slides (not just limited to the walls and the ceiling but the chairs and the tables). In short, this was a projection of Mr. Grincher’s “utopian” (actually dystopian), sci-fi future that he wanted to impose on all of his students, including me. It was sterile, it was cold, it was dead, and it was Grincher-esque. Good thing it was about to be ruined by piss and shit.

  I checked the bedroom door. Crane Grincher snored as loud as a siren. Intermingled with the human snores were the snores of an animal-a dog. This mission was going to be harder as I knew what this dog meant. In the South, dogs are incredibly protective of their owners so one small misstep could send me to the hospital with a chewed-off arm.

  I checked the living room. Tick, tick, tick, ticked the steady alarm clock. The low moan of the wind brushed against the window-glass. Steady drips cooperated with the ticks by alternation. Underlying these two sounds was the quiet, smooth, humming ambience of the large fish tank that sat near the living room window. The thirteen rainbow guppies were all sleeping upside down, eyes open. I didn’t need to worry about them as they were stupider than retardation.

  I planted the “Submarine Bomb” in the toilet. To keep it completely hidden, I used the stick end of a toilet plunger. I tried my best to not make a splash but the sound was noticeable. Thank God neither occupant stirred. As I was about to leave, Grincher’s dog began barking in insanity. Panicked and with my heart going up to 11, I found a nearby closet and hid inside of it. Just as I closed the door, the bedroom door opened, and Mr. Grincher came out.

  “WHAT’S YOUR PROBLEM, BUZZ?!!!” he shrieked as usual. His dog, like me, was disobedient. “SHUT IT OR I’LL WHIP YOUR MOUTH!!!” Just then, Knock. Knock. Knock. Three hollow, rhythmic knocks sounded from the front door. Then they continued, in triads. And Buzz increased his volume and directed it at the bedroom door. There were visitors. Midnight visitors.

  ……………

  The murky hallway was so dark that he felt that it was more cavernous than homely. With each step, the triad of knocks increased in volume, frequency, and intensity. By the time he was at the door, he felt as if he was a participant in a Zulu dance. Buzz was violently barking, growling, and jumping at it. He flicked on the hallway lights. The space immediately brightened to a state of comfort but he knew it would not last long. He had to face the door. Usually, any hypothetical nighttime visitor would be met with a stone cold face, fiery eyes, and a dreadful tone that would drive him or her away in fear. In short, he was the modern-day Mr. Scrooge. However, at this moment, he could not generate any potential fear tactics to late-night owls. Instead, he felt terribly afraid, as if the “something” beyond the two doors was terribly evil. Yes. Evil was the word. But that wasn’t the only emotion he was feeling. He also felt a strong sense of compassionate compulsion to open the doors and help whatever unfortunate orphan was suffering on the other side.

  He chose the latter emotion. Seeing his master’s determination, Buzz tried to stop him-jumping, squirming, and hitting his legs. It was all to no use-he chose to ignore man’s best friend. He looked through the peephole. His fear increased tenfold. So did his compassion. Outside was a child who looked around 10 years old and was wearing a black hoodie. He was staring straight down at the red carpet and his eyes were clenched shut.

  He retracted his eye from the peephole. He pondered what to do (which was nonexistent for a man like him). And he arrived at a quick decision. The lock was flipped, the knob was turned, and the left-sided door cracked open. Immediately, Buzz was out of sight-into a kitchen cupboard he went. Mr. Grincher peered into the dimly lit hallway. The boy retained his “concealment” position. To break the deathly silence, Mr. Grincher had to force himself to bring a mannered smile into the sea of unexplainable terror.

  “Hello, how can I help you?” There was an unusual long pause before the hooded child responded.

  “May I use your phone?” That very robotic and monotone voice sent shivers down his spine and rang in his ears like bells.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  “Um, why do you have to use our phone?”

  There was another long, uncomfortable pause before the child replied “Our mother is worried.”

  By now, Mr. Grincher’s compassion was turning into something far more sinister. His compulsion to let the child in was becoming an obsession.

  “Um...um...yes, you can come in and call your parents.”

  His eyes had drifted to the left corner. Seemingly out of nowhere, a shorter, younger version of the child emerged from the shadows. Like his companion, the second boy kept his face hidden. Mr. Grincher let the heavy door open all the way and beckoned for the two children to step inside. When they did, the teacher was compelled to lock the door behind them. At that same moment, all the lights began to flicker intermittently. The two children ignored the nearby shoe mats and walked down the hallway, their backs as crooked as the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

  They stopped in the middle of the living room and the first one resumed speaking.

  “My friend needs to go to the bathroom. Will you be kind enough to take him? And also, where is the phone located? I will call the parents.”

  Mr. Grincher now felt extremely queasy in the stomach but he still plucked up the courage to answer: “Uhh… right over there.” He pointed at the black rotary dial phone on the white cabinet to the left side of the living room.

  The first child slowly walked over to the dial phone. He raised his head slightly. Mr. Grincher was taken aback-the boy’s face was slightly luminous. These two boys were not what they seemed to be. To avoid this dire discovery, he hurried along and followed behind the second boy, who made the left turn into the tiny bathroom.

  His heart was beating way faster than a racecar. The fear was gnawing away at all of his organs. He was expecting a revelation-a horrific revelation that would change everything-shatter everything. He detached his eyes from the darkened white bathroom door to the maw of the hallway of murkiness. He was greeted with a horrific sight: the younger child was standing in front of him. His head was raised and he was looking directly at Mr. Grincher.

  His eyes-his eyes were black. They were absent of any whites. There were no irises. There were no pupils. There was just jet-black, coal-black, obsidian-black nothingness. Voids of unfathomable darkness were staring back at him. They were boring into his very soul. Suddenly, all the lights were snuffed out and darkness reigned supreme. It was now too much for him to bear and he turned, running for the front door.

  Unfortunately, the older, leader boy was there, waiting for his demise. He was also un-hooded and looked ghoulishly magnificent.

  “We have been sent here to collect you” he spoke in his characteristic voice that was now more emotionless than emotionless. “Come with us.”

  As he spoke, he began grinning as if he was excited about an upcoming feast. The second, younger boy was also smiling devilishly. Mr. Grincher suddenly understood the utter gravity of the situation-he was the feast. The pit of existential terror in his body had now fully swallowed him. There was no hope, anywhere. But at least, he could still scream.

  “Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Heeeeellllpppppp! Help me! Help me!” “There is no help. You are doomed.” The two children inched ever closer to him. Both their black eyes and their smiles enlarged to gigantic, grotesque proportions. “Now, your life will end. We are here to eat your soul!” The leader boy’s voice was now revealed in its entirety-a growling, unearthly, grating sound from the very depths of eldritch hell.

  Both children began their disgusting transformations. Three gill-like gashes appeared in their cheeks. Their hair disappeared, revealing bald alien-like heads. Their open mouths sank to the depths of the Mariana Trench. Very sharp, needle-like, anglerfish teeth appeared. Both children then bellowed such a demonic, Lovecraftian howl that it would not only burst every eardrum in the whole world but would drive all of humanity to mass suicide. For Mr. Grincher, his last words would be (in a pitch higher than that of the highest soprano):

  “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!”

  Both children raised their right hands and froze Mr. Grincher immobile. Their faces began to rot. Slimy, black, gelatinous, Facehugger-like, eel-like tentacles emerged from their mouths and latched onto Mr. Grincher’s mouth. As the two children pumped all of the living out of him, he degenerated older and older, from his mid-sixties into his eighties and then into his hundreds. What finally resulted was a lifeless skeleton. The tentacles were retracted and even more blood-curdling, ear-splitting demoniac howls were released. And the skull that witnessed all of this witnessed nothing-only black, black, black darkness.

  In the cupboard, Buzz remained hidden, whimpering softly. He dared not come outside. Slow, quiet footsteps invaded the white linoleum floor. Buzz fearfully looked up through the crack of the closed cabinet door. Two dark shadows moved by. He immediately crouched into a fetal position. The footsteps inched closer to his hiding spot. The two cabinet doors slowly opened. A yelping, panicked Buzz attempted to leap out of harm’s way but both children caught him telekinetically. They raised his trembling body high into the air, staring into his terrified eyes with the coldness of absolute zero. The two facehugging appendages latched onto his mouth. In a few seconds, the Dalmatian was rapidly turned into a charred, blackened dog skeleton. His murderers gently lowered their second victim to the floor and viewed it with freezing indifference. They held hands and instantly, they vanished.

  In the living room, the teacher's portrait darkened rapidly. In the bedroom, the Shakespeare bobblehead on the nightstand faded into blackness. In the kitchen, the analog clock had its hour dial on three and its minute dial on thirty. Down below, the street lamps slowly revived back to life. Numb, pervasive silence blanketed both the interior and the exterior. It seemed as if nothing had just happened.

  ……

  For what seemed like a damn long time, I waited… and I waited… and I waited. The silence was deafening. It lasted 13 billion years. In that wide expanse of time, the big bang exploded, the universe exponentially expanded, atoms sprouted, elements were forged, stars were ignited, galaxies were collated, the Sun and the solar system were created, the Earth was fashioned, the Moon became its own being, life arose, vertebrates sprang up, reptiles evolved, the dinosaurs rose and died, mammals dominated, primates metamorphosed, humans civilized, and the history of mankind churns and progresses until this very second.

  It was after all this time that I finally had an adequate amount of courage to open the closet door and make my first teeny-tiny step out. I cautiously made a 360 degree swivel. There was no one in the unit. The demonic kids had disappeared. Mr. Grincher’s blackened body was lying in the foyer. Looking at it made me even more frightened. That body would be my body if I did not get the hell outta here. I searched the bedroom. No one. Grincher’s scientific study. No one. The living room. No one. The kitchen. No one. Since the coast was clear, I was ready to escape. To reach the front door, I had to step over my former enemy’s body that was Pompeii-ed beyond human comparison. As my feet were making their ballerina dance, I got the ultimate goosebumps in thinking about what would happen if I touched its barbecued flesh. As I achieved my goal of avoiding contamination, I made the big mistake of stealing a glance to the side.

  The two Black Eyed Boys were standing in the kitchen, looking right at me! Their soulless black eyes were utterly terrifying. They were boring right into the heart of my soul. My terror increased to heights it had never gone to before. All hope in humanity and in life was utterly drained. I could not move. It seemed as if they had hypnotized me. And they were whispering to me inside my mind.

  “You will die just like him.” That freezing, metallic voice. Over and over again. Driving me to the brink of madness.

  Then, for some mysterious reason, they allowed me to move. I tried the front door. It was locked. They wanted me to die flapping and squirming and flailing and screaming, unlike the previously immobile Grincher. I had no choice but to run to the living room and then out onto the glass balcony. Without much thinking and with much stupidity, I climbed over the railing. I felt nothing but air as I plunged… and plunged… and plunged… While I was screaming at the top of my lungs, something hard and cold grabbed me and in an instant, I was lifted up. I turned my head. A tall robotic knight, clothed all in white and fitted with angelic wings, was flying me towards my condo-Parkview Manor.