House Share

I will never share a house again, I now reside on the edge of a discreet town with just my cat Ollie. Over the years I have lived in all types of accomodation but I am a man who likes to move around. I get bored and things become stale after a while so often I seek a new adventure and with that brings a new place to live. 

I had just broke up with a girl I was dating for 8 months and wanted a fresh start so I looked around for properties to rent and found one about 4 hours drive from where I was living which was ideal, it gave me the chance to forget about everything that happened. It was affordable and when I say that I mean it was basically for nothing: about 40 dollars a week - 160 a month, but was a house share. Sharing with five other strangers was not something I normally would want but I went for it.

After all the formalities were over with I arrived at the house and remember it being a really hot day, I was soaked in sweat dragging in all my bags. The person who I had been dealing with over the phone and through email was called Nick. He greeted me at the door, shaking my sweaty hand and offering to help carry up my bags, which I was grateful for before showing me to my room and going over the house rules; washing, cleaning, bills, chores etc.... The first night went as smooth as I could have hoped for, I was in bed by 10 p.m doing a few crosswords from my puzzle book I got from an airport a couple of years back, but still yet to complete it. 

The next morning I awoke to the bright morning sun shining in my window directly on my face and the pen from my nights antics resting on my upper chest. I got dressed and went down to make breakfast to which I met two of the other housemates - Rob and Natalie who seemed nice but a bit odd and definitely both high, which I didn't have a problem with, I just wished I got their stoned inside jokes, but not to worry I thought to myself, so far so good I suppose.

As the day progressed I spent most of it up in my room just sorting and arranging it how I wanted. Next to my bed there was an old not in-use fireplace where I put all my valuables and pictures on. By the window, which was a bit stiff, was a desk where I done a lot of my writing from, amongst other things that single men like to get up to. The floor was wooden and a bit creaky at parts, the walls were plain white with the ceiling following that highly creative decorative trend, well it was mostly white with the exception of a few dark patches by the corners of the ceiling, I put it down to the previous tenant being a smoker.

Later that evening I went down to make some dinner. There was no one around, perfect timing I thought, so I cooked and ate it at the kitchen table and it was delicious. Just as I was cleaning off my plate, I heard the front door open and voices chatting in my direction moving down the hallway. It was the other two housemates who I haven't met yet - Rae and Kyle. It was a short meet and greet but these also seemed to be smoking some of the devil's lettuce.

10 p.m was getting closer, I was always an early sleeper, I could feel last the urge to finiahe last nights crossword creeping up on me, so I got into bed and the before I knew it, it was morning. This was the last night I spent in this house and nearly the last of my life.

As I was flipping my egg over I could hear a girl crying from the room to the side of the kitchen. I knocked on the door, asking if everything was alright but the only response was that of more crying, so I opened the door and there was Natalie sobbing into her hands. She didnt notice me, not even when I went right up to her and put my hand on her right shoulder. I just kept asking what was wro nothing, it was like I didn't exist to her.

I left her to herself, taking my eggs and returning to my room. A little while later I could hear crying again, this time from the room across from mine. Again, I went and knocked before entering, and this time it was Kyle and Rae sitting on their bed facing each other, tears flowing down their faces as they looked directly into each others eyes. No notice of me again so I went rapidly back to my room and locked my door. What the fuck is going on!! Were my thoughts exactly at this point.

It was then where the window blasted open and a strong swirling breeze came through, knocking off all the pictures and cards on the mantle piece. I went over to close it and it was then where I seen Natalie hanging from a piece of rope out in the back yard. Shock took over me as I just stood there, wind blowing through my hair like there was an invisible hair dryer right in front of me. Natalie didn't just hang there though, she opened her eyes and looked right at me, it was then where once again the crying started.

I didn't even have time to think when I felt a finger tap me on my shoulder, but when I turned my head the window slammed shut on my right hand, causing excruciating pain. Of course there was no one behind me. A fire pit from the fireplace, it wasn't just a few small flames, it was a massive roarng fire that felt like it was taking to me. It would road, then stop, then roar again. I tried to escape but the door handle had just vanished and the window was now stuck shut, there was no way out.

I tried to call but of course like you see in the movies, the signal was down. The heat was unimaginable at this point and the air felt like it was getting sucked out of the room. This was now full on panic mode! I kicked and hit every part of the room, desperately hoping that by some sort of magic room would open, a hope that never materialised. The worst part of this longest five minutes of my life was how I could continue to hear Natalie crying throughout it all, but they weren't tears of sadness, they were like tears of happiness. Something words can't describe. 

Breathing was getting harder by the second and the seconds were running out. I accepted it, death was coming for me and there was nothing I could do about it. A control freak without control was for those few seconds a rather liberating and free feeling. The end was here, except it wasn't. 

I somehow survived it, I woke up about a half a mile away from the house, without a scratch or burn on me. I never went near that house after this. The next bus that came I bought a ticket and never looked back since. Some time later I read up on what happened and it said that four bodies were found in the house, all with their eyes gouged out, but that wasn't the weirdest part. That accolade went to the position in which the bodies were found. The four bodies were found together, forming a cross sign, two vertical and one horizontal at each side. 

To this day I have nightmares about it all, I still don't understand how or what happened, all I know is that it did and I'm alive today. I sit at night, stroking Ollie while trying to keep the bad thoughts out, but one thing that keeps coming back to me is what ever happened to Nick? I didn't see him there the day it all happened and he wasn't mentioned in the write up on the paper, no mention of him at all. 

I tried to find any information on him I could, but I soon realised that I didn't know not could I find anything about this guy, not even a surname. All I had were a few emails exchanged to the name NicksNicksNicks@gmail.com. It was a lost cause, I just had to accept this, then my phone notification sound went off.........

The Visitor

As the last glimpse of light fades and nightfall takes over, the town of South Hallow becomes idle with only those in desperation out on the streets. Even the rich who could travel with protection and in luxury, did not want to risk it. The fear of them being the next was far too great to even contemplate. This month, May, was down in history as - The Month of Murder.

The streets of this town were narrow and bumpy. The road blended with the footpath. Cycling bikes, steam cars, horse and traps along with the inhabitants all shared the chaotic streets together, desperate to do what was needed to be done before darkness arrived. Many of the homeless have claimed to have spotted what was responsible for the murders and they all have said that although it was the shape of a human it certainly wasn't one, but who was to believe the downtrodden.

Every night a body would turn up somewhere, there was no consistency in the location of the bodies but there was in how the murders happened; there was a series of small bite holes along the neck, six in total on every victim. Vampires!!!! That quickly became the buzz word of the town. It was plastered on the front page of every daily issue on every street corner. People would gather and talk about the murders of the night before and murmur quietly that word "Vampires" as if it was forbidden. 

How could this be, Vampires were only the creation of ones imagination and not thought to be creatures of existence, but even the most hardened sceptic had to admit that this did truly resemble the ways of the undead blood suckers. 

Every night there were armed officers patrolling the streets, never alone, always with another officer, but yet all they ever found was the dead body of the victims with a stream of blood flowing from the indented holes in their necks. No evidence left behind. This uncertainty lead to great fear, which in-turn lead to chaos in the town. People feared greatly for their lives and even inside the four walls of their own homes they didn't feel safe anymore, with the body count rising as the nights slowly passed by.

The closest town to South Hallow wasnt exactly just over the road and for the majority, transport wasn't either available or an option, so sadly all they would do was wait it, pray and hope that tonight wasn't gonna be the night they became tomorrow's news. 

When the month of May came to an end, suddenly so did the murders. Not one victim after that, as quick as it came, it had left. The streets were once again filled with people and daily routine had taken back over. There was a rememberance engraving on the wall near town hall, listing the people that tragically died during that month. 

The month of murder had ended. People mourned but time soon took that pain over. Fifty years on and the majority of whom had lived through that period had now passed away, with only the young at the time still remaining.  For most they were too young to remember the events but one guy, Andy, remembered it like it was last week.

Andy had lost his whole family that month. He was filled with rage and questions that had no answers when growing up, in fact this never went away, all he wanted was answeres or even better - revenge. Now 59 years old he had practically given up his search, that was until he was walking down the street to get the morning newspaper and on the front pages it read - "The Murders Return !!!".

Mrs. Johnson

Good ol' Mrs. Johnson, as she was known to the people of Morrison, in Jefferson County, Colorado, was your typical sweet grandmother type to the residents of the town. She often gave out candy and coins to the children that purposely passed in her direction. Always had a smile on her face, sitting on her front porch sipping on her lemonade glass that never seemed to empty. As most people of her age did, she enjoyed knitting and reading the morning paper to see what trouble today's youth had caused now. As for who lived with her, well it was just her and her daughter who was in her 30's, but you wouldn't of believed it.

Nancy was the daughters name, named after her grandmother. She lived a very sheltered life, even now as an adult she wasn't allowed do things that most women her age wouldn't even have to ask to do. She worked at the local grocery store and after her shift she would come home and eat Mamma's dinner that she would only just about tolerate, then go for a short walk around the town and back to the house where her and her mother would enjoy some television before bedtime.

Mrs. Johnson didn't like her engaging too much with people outside of their home but reminded her that if contact is made then it's important to pass yourself in a friendly manner so they won't talk, something Nancy obeyed all her life. The hierarchy in this household was clear and never challenged.

When it came to Nancy dating, this was a total no-go subject, as boys, as Mrs. Johnson referred to them as, were bad news and would leave her daughter heartbroken and messed up. For the most part Nancy did stick to this rule of thumb, she had a crush on numerous guys growing up but nothing Mrs. Johnson couldn't quickly squash. 

As Nancy's 34th birthday was coming up, she asked her mom of it was ok to ask a boy around for a couple of hours, someone she worked with. Mrs. Johnson agreed only on the terms that they were just as friends and they had to be around her all the time, Nancy nodded her head smiling "Thanks Mamma". This sudden change of attitude was something Nancy was surprised with but ultimately happy about, her first ever guy was allowed to call over, a big day in the life of Nancy Johnson.

The door bell rang and Nancy came to answer it, she stood there nervous as hell with makeup splashed allover her face like a porcelain doll from the 1920's, with a polkadot dress to match. Behind her stood her mom with a face as happy as a drunks at closing time. "Come in dear, don't be shy" she said in a forged happy manner that only her daughter could pick up on, this was the same way she spoke to the kids on the street. In stepped the skinny, lanky "boy" before being ushered to take a seat.

Mrs.Johnson sat directly in between them both. Nancy tried as much as she could to communicate to the man but her mom would always interrupt and change the subject to something totally different, whatever to keep this dirty bastard away from my girl she was thinking. "I like your dress Nancy" stuttered the nervous man, but before Nancy could say thanks, Mrs. Johnson again chimed in with "I think you look silly and foolish, I mean who are you trying to impress". Nancy bowed her head down but didn't say anything, the hierarchy once again respected.

After a few minutes awkwardly passed Mrs.Johnson suggested that Nancy go out the back yard, pick some lemons from the lemon tree and offer this "Lovely boy" some fresh lemonade. As Nancy obliged and made her way out, Mrs. Johnson asked the boy to wait there a moment as she had to go grab something upstairs.

"Close your eyes" said Mrs. Johnson while walking slowly down the wooden stairs. Nancy's friend went along with it, as hesitant as he was, he put his hands over both his eyes and waited until Mrs. Johnson told him to open them. "5...4.....3…...2........1.....open!!!!" Slowly he took his hands away, left then right one, before jumping back with a large gasp of air inwards. "What are you doing, what is this" he asked while rising to his feet in preparation to run out the door.

"You think you can buy my little girl...do ya??" Mrs. Johnson said while approaching the man with her see through white top pulled over her head as if she was headless and hatchet in her right hand. The man tried to escape the house but every door he tried was locked. Around the back of the house was an opening he saw that he might just fit through, so he raced towards that. He got his head and boulders though but that was all before he felt pain like never before.

Right down on his spine came the hatchet, not only once but over and over again. An abrupt sound of pain came out of him but no one heard, the hatchet coming down on his spine had completely paralysed his speech and facial actions, if he wasn't bent over he would be folded over like a box. His last few seconds alive he could see Nancy skipping in with a basket full of lemons, ready to see her secret date again.

As Nancy got to the back door, her mom let her in but told her to sit down, that something had happened. "I'm sorry baby but he just left, right as you went out to get the lemons he stood up and just walked out the door", Nancy sobbed in Mrs Johnson's arms for some time after this. It was then that Mrs. Johnson told her that " 34 years ago today, your daddy disappeared on us, right as I had you the scoundrel ran away, this is why boys cannot be trusted baby, look what they did to us". Nancy listened and understood as her mom stroked her hair, grinning out of sight.

The following year Nancy had been talking to a new friend at work alot and they really got on. She asked him to call over this Friday to which he agreed to. She pleaded with her mom to allows him to call over. She suggested doing all the household chores for a month with no walks in between if he could come over for an hour, besides they were just good friends. On Thursday morning before Nancy went to work, she gave into Nancy's wish, totally out of the blue.

Friday arrived and it was the same as the last time, awakward and weird, but Nancy didn't notice this, she thought it was going great. Mrs. Johnson quizzed the man a lot, then ridiculed Nancy for the way she looked once more. This brought the awkward feeling to a whole new level, it was then she leaned back and said calmly "Nancy would you mind going to the lemon tree and picking some lemons to make this boy some fresh lemonade". 

The Laughter Box

7.00 a.m every morning Tim woke to the irritating but effective sound of his alarm clock. This was followed by brushing of the teeth, the combing of what little hair he had left and putting on his sportswear for the morning walk. 

In two years since he was left go from work he done the exact same things every morning, and this morning started off no different. He stepped outside, smelling the fresh air, filling his lungs up in doing so, before turning right and heading on down the path in that direction. 

Across the small, narrow road was a cat, a black cat sitting there looking at him. Tim never seen this cat before but noticed it had a collar on her so it must of belonged to someone nearby. As he was walking, the cat was doing the same, not directly behind him but close enough to make him feel like he was being followed by the feline.

Around the third corner he normally waves to Mr.Connors but today he wasn't there to wave back and make a what's meant to be a humerous comment, instead, Tim was greeted by a swarm of mosquitoes. They also, like the cat, started to lurk behind Tim as he was starting to feel a bit uneasy with the situation. 

Over on the next street there had formed a gathering of people. These were all people he recognised as living nearby but none of them recognised Tim, they just stood there staring at him with a blank look in their faces while Tim nervously picked up the pace to walk past them.

At this point he was really starting to freak out. He stopped for a minute and took out his phone to ring his neighbour but his phone was frozen on the generic screensaver. Then he glanced at his stepometer which had also froze. In his right hand he had a bottle of water, which he poured over his sweaty head and then drank what remained, before deciding to take the closest way possible back to his home.

At his door, he put in the key and looked behind him again, as he did all throughout his walk home, but there was nothing following him anymore, the cat or the mosquitoes weren't there. Inside he decided to take a shower, the water was fresh and after drying himself off he got dressed and had a little giggle to himself about what he seen outside. 

While downstairs he tried again to ring his neighbour but the phone still wasn't in use. So on his shoes went and he gave a couple of knocks nextdoor. After the fourth knock and still no answer, he went around to the side of the house and took a look through the window to try catch someones attention, but the only attention he had got for himself was the unwanted kind in the form of dozens of rats and mice. They were all over the furniture, floors and counter tops, the house was took over by a large mischief of the furry rodents.

He quickly dashed back into his own home, slamming the door behind him while anxiously dialling number after number, trying to get through to anyone in the area. In his kitchen he stood by the sink counter top, but he could hear a purring noise coming from the front of the house. When he went to check it out, there was the same cat he saw earlier, again just sitting and looking at him.

Tim walked closer towards the cat and as he did so he noticed that the black fluffy creature wasn't the only thing inside his house. Mosquitoes came flying down the stairs, rats and mice came through every gap in the house, insects of all sorts came through the woodwork and all of his neighbours bloody faces were seen projected onto the walls with the blood dripping like wet paint.

Over by the backdoor, Tim noticed a box laying there while desperately trying to pull the door open. A sudden wave of energy came from the door, flinging Tim to the ground in the process. He now couldn't get up, whatever had thrown him was now invisibly pinning him down. The box next to his face now started to open.

Nothing was seen to come out of the box but a girl laughing could be heard. As the laughing sped up, all the creatures inside the house now hurried over to Tim, biting and gnawing at every once of his body. In total pain, he was powerless to do anything but lay there and endure the slow agonizing death of been eaten alive, inch by inch.

The faces on the wall now turned to faces of happiness, the sound of the laughter grew and grew as Tim was fading, that sound and feel of having your flesh being eaten wasn't something anyone could handle for long, especially as they had just advanced from the legs upwards. 

His last visible memory was of the cat jumping onto his chest, bending down getting ready to pounce at his face, flesh hanging from its mouth, when he could just about see the wording on its tag. It read "Property of Pandora".

Ah Chew!!

In 1744 a man named Samuel Chew had passed away. He was the chief justice of the supreme court in the city of Dover, Delaware. By the title and position he held within the city, you would think he would of been held in high esteem, but this wasn't the case at all. 

The locals like often make silly puns about his surname such as "Ah chew" followed by a fake sneeze sound whenever they would see him outside of his work. He was mentally worn down throughout his life. Someone who should have been highly respected was anything but. Tormented by peoples immaturity and the fact that he was a rather passive character who didn't like conflict or to get into a verbal dispute with anyone,even his own wife at home. The locals claimed it was nothing more than just a bit of harmless fun but eventually it got to Samuel.

He sadly took his own life by overdosing on prescription pills he had managed to get his hands on himself. An hour after swallowing more pills than a room full of depressed junkies, his breathing ceased, his eyes closed and for once in his pitiful life, there was peace. 

Shortly after, his eyes opened again. Samuel sat up and looked around the room but to his surprise, everything was the exact same. He could see the empty pill containers by his feet on the bed, he could hear his wife screaming for him to mow the lawn from downstairs. Confusion had all but took over him, so he got up and went to open the bedroom door but he couldn't grab the doorknob, his hand went through it to the other side.

Before he knew what was happening he was standing on the other side of the door and on the upstairs landing, feet not touching the floor but hovering just slightly above. That confused look on his face was met by amazement as he floated down the stairs and into the kitchen to his wife. He called her name but there wasn't even the slightest response of him being heard, in fact she didn't even notice him standing directly in front of her and poking at her face, he was totally transparent.

As much as he was freaking out, he was curious so decided to wander outside. That night he came across a man called David Hendricks, who was a local farmer on his way out for the night. David was one of those who mocked Samuel, and Samuel didn't forget this. He floated over to him and tried to take a swipe at him but of course his hand would just go right through David, who didn't notice a thing.

Samuel was getting frustrated at this and let out shout of rage that only he could hear. He just wished there was some way he could get back at those people, and much to his astonishment he found out there might just be.

He would curse at David which made him sneeze, and sneeze again, and again, and again, it didn't stop. David continued to sneeze faster and more frequent until his brains flew out of his nose and mouth and onto the pavement in front of him. Again that freaked him out but curious look was on Samuel's face as he wondered what was exactly going on. Before he pondered any further he noticed another old nemesis of his walking in his direction further on up the road.

Peter Droongoggle was his name, a rather arrogant individual who saw nothing wrong with the mockery and torment of others, such as Samuel. The closer Peter got, he began to notice a body covered with blood around it and the head having exploded into slime like remains. He stood in shock, trying to identify who this poor, battered individual was, but Samuel had other ideas as he hovered over to Peter.

His remorseful nature while alive was now non-existent, all he could remember was the truly awful time these people gave him and Peter being one of the leading men in that, certainly wasn't getting away with it tonight. Again, he cursed him, and stood watching as Peters sneezing got out of control and started to really suffer. This brought delight to Samuel. Peter ended up the same way as David before him and as many would after him; brains and blood everywhere. 

After that night time killing spree he returned home, watching over his wife as she sat on the bed chain smoking, wondering where her husband had gone too. She found the empty pill containers, that were now on the ground just slightly underneath the bed, and started to get really overwhelmed with worry. Samuel tried to make contact and tell his sobbing wife that he is ok now, that he had found peace but nothing he done could garnered her attention.

After spending day after day watching his wife and trying to comfort her, he knew there was nothing he could do, so he went to where he was buried and returned to his deceased body. In doing so, he had vanished, neither man or ghost was out there, his time in any form on this earth was over.

His wife had heard about the brutal killings that took place on that one night and found it rather strange that they all died the same way; a very rare overactive irritation of the nasal mucous membrane. Even more strange was that she found in Samuels locker by his bed, a list of people he disliked, as he was told that writing about his frustration could help him relieve the issue. On that list were each one of the victims.......

Showman's Rest

In forest park, Illinois, there is a rather large cemetery known as Woodlawn cemetery. By looking at the place you would think it's just like any other cemetery, but it's far more than that. Tragedy, adversity and sorrow are only some of the words used to describe the events that happened here on June 22nd 1918.

The Illinois town or village as it's know as, is in fact rather strange in itself, seeing as the ratio of people who are dead outranks those who are alive by a staggering ratio of 30-to-1. The village actually at one point had the name of "Village of Cemeteries" because of the amount of Cemeteries that forest park has in it.

So on June 22nd, a train containing the circus know as the Hagenback-Wallace circus was on its way to Indiana for one of their many performances while on tour, when an issue occured. The train started to have some mechanical problems and the conductor Karena decision to stop near Hessville, Indiana to take a look and see what exactly the issue was.

This was where tragedy struck, as another train that ignored the warning lights of the stopped train, came crashing head first into it, causing a massive amount of damage and a fire them erupted from the collision.

The sounds of the crash could be heard from a distance. People who remember hearing it said that the most terrifying part of it all wasn't the deafening sound of the collision, but it was the sound of the animals screeching in pain as the fire burnt through and left nothing more than just rubble. 85  circus performers in total had lost their lives that day.

Luckily or perhaps more coincidentally, the showman's league of America had in 1913, purchased 750 acres in the Woodlawn Cemetery so that the women and men of the circus could have a place to be buried when they passed away, but no one thought those graves would be filled so soon.

Another sad part of this unfortunate story was that 54 out of the 85 casualties were unable to be identified. They have markers on their gravesite that are just marked "Unknown Male" or "Unknown Female". Those that could be identified were buried and marked by their stage name only as many within the circus didn't know the real names of the other performers. One was labelled "Baldy" for example.

It was mainly elephants that were on board the train with the rest of the animals being mostly made-up of farm birds. The animals were said to be not given a burial at all, instead just disposed of in the easiest and quickest way possible. For this reason it is said the the birth of the haunting of the cemetery exists.

Late at night when there is a stillness about the place, there is said to be the sound of the cries of the burning Elephants, along with people even reporting to spot the ghostly figures roaming the land. To this day remain the reports but no one can ever capture the cries or visual on camera. 

If you ever go to the resting place of the showmen, then you will see a statue of an elephant next to the burial places. This statue is thought to hold the spirits of the large mammals that are waiting to be seen given a proper burial to be set free.

Whatever you believe, no one can underestimate the tragedy that occured on June 22nd that year, but as time went on it has become etched more into the back of people's minds. The problem here is that although this happened many years ago, the real tragedy is said to continue to this day.......

Little Angie

She arrived one evening on a rainy October night, brought by two social care workers from out of town. On the outside she was so innocent and beautiful, on the inside she was darker and more sinister than anyone could have imagined.

Her original parents were Polish, she barely remembers them as they gave her up when she was four, prisoners of their own individual addictions. Now 10, she spent the last six years in and out of different homes. She stayed for two years with her granduncle before he passed away from his battle with a terminal illness and after him there were no family of hers left, well there might be some distant long lost cousin back in Poland but no one that could be traced, and besides it's a long way from Central America. 

From ages six to ten she moved about but things never worked out for one reason or another, she had actually spent more time under the guidance of social workers than families. Long blonde hair with large adorable green eyes, she went by the name of Angie. Little Angie was her preferred name of choice as this was the name of her favorite character in a book her mother used to read to her at night, her only real lasting memory of her. 

Her latest family were warm, loving and stable, something Little Angie was never used to. As the weeks went by she started to get enrolled in school, make new friends and felt at ease here, again something she was never used to. She finally had a place that not only could she call home but also felt like home. 

Her birthday was coming up, January 3rd she was told, although they could have told her any date and she wouldn't of cared. Her last birthday came when the sun was at its hottest she remembered and the one before that she could see the leaves on the trees starting to grow again but this didn't matter too much to her, she was happy and for once truly excited for her first real birthday party.

In they arrived one by one, each as snotty nosed and loud as the child in front. It was like a colony of ants carrying leaves to their nests, but rather than leaves it was presents, and none like what Angie was used to. The house and garden was decrorated the way any little girl would want it. They had served up all sorts of sweets and cakes, there was a bouncy castle out in the garden and a jukebox with all her favourite songs on it (even if she never confessed to liking any song). It was all part of the perfect birthday experience.

In arrived the birthday cake; the biggest and tastiest looking cake little Angie had ever set her eyes on. She was asked to blow out the candles and close her eyes and make a wish to which she reluctantly stepped up to the cake and was about to do. Just as she inhaled in she started to feel dizzy and foggy brained, her eyes started to roll into the back of her head and now all she could hear was the laughing of the other kids as they sang on the karaoke and the constant noise of laughter. 

The sensation continued but no on seemed to notice anything wrong. Her new foster parents stood there pointing their cameras at her while asking her to blow out the candles and put on the gleefully wide smile. Angie's head was bowed down facing the candles, as she raised her head to the demands of the party she changed. The sweet little girl was no more, she now looked different, her skin falling from her young face, yellow rashes broke out all over her body and perhaps most haunting of all, she spoke with a deep echoing accent.

Shock filled her foster parents face, the kids continued laughing, finding humor in what they thought to be a joke or some sort. Angie, or what was Angie, thanked the parents for setting her free by making Angie truly happy, revealing that she was waiting in her host for eleven years now, bound by her misery. "There were four of us created, Endo, Oxyto, Dopa and me, Sero, all four of us are demons of happiness. Before you think us demons are on your side, we are not! We serve true evil, we were bound to innocence by powerful magic, pure innocence that was never supposed to feel real joy and they call us the evil ones. So this is where I thank you for showing this girl that happy feeling but this is where my thanks and your time ends".

Sero leaned back, made a frightening growl then leaped forward on to the foster parents, clawing and ripping through them both in a matter of seconds. The seemingly never ending laughter of the playful children had now stopped. Smiles turned to frowns and laughter to tears as Sero finished up devouring the bodies of the adults. Her attention now turning to the children.

It approached each child one by one, patting each on top of the head and telling them not to worry in that deep, echoing and eery voice before once again bowing its head down and when it rose up a few seconds later all the transformaty and demonic look had gone, it was Angie once again. 

Angie walked to the front door, opened it, looked back at the kids and said to herself "Innocence huh" before walking out and was never seen again.