Imagine a moment in the night when there were no sounds, there were no murmurs, and the breaths in the air were still. I opened my eyes and shut the car door behind me; these cement walls were closing in on me, and there was nothing to be seen or heard. I looked around the garage and noticed the light above me shining bright for my safety. But, it still made no sound, still made no noise for me to be at ease, so I walked towards this green door downstairs; and when I opened it, there was a creak.

This steel door was in front of me, so I turned the doorknob and opened the door to the basement. On the bed lied my brother. He was chopped into numerous pieces, starting with his head away from his torso, along with the legs and arms scattered on the floor. His chest was missing skin, and by the look of it all, his death was recent; blood was pouring out of him like there was no tomorrow. I put my purse on the brown tray next to me and shut the door.

I leaned back; how was I suppose to react? I began to wonder about people who hated my brother, but I thought of none. I continued on, and up the flight of stairs I went to the kitchen. Before I reached the top, however, these soulless creatures shouted to me, "Save them! Save them!" in a shrieking voice, screaming at the top of their lungs. So they rushed me up the stairs and I entered the next crime scene: the kitchen.

The door swung on its own from the broken hinges lying on the floor with the rotting food from earlier that day. The room was creating a smoke screen from the burning carcass hunched over her oven from treating us to dinner. It was my mother. Her skin was peeling off the bone and her eyes stared directly into my eyes for a savior; there was nothing I could do for her anymore. The flames were beginning to die upon her body, so I eased my fingers through them to get to her.

She was so warm from the fire, but so rough from the burns. I flinched back and held my hand to my heart. The screaming continued as I gazed upon her body. “Save them! Save them!” So I moved on.

The computer chair inside the living room was toppled over, the wheels bent from the murderer’s demise. The computer screen was full of blood, with one handprint sliding across the lit up monitor. The screaming started to whisper as I looked around to find my dog lying on the ground with a bullet to her head. The top half of her skull was blown away, and only parts of her nose, tongue, and bottom jaw were intact with the body full of bloody handprints. I knelt down before her and petted her fur, to find some kind of life inside of her. There was none.

I looked outside to find some kind of person running away down the street, but only found that the house was in a middle of the field, with any kind of light blood red, including the night sky. There were no cars around; it was only us. I stood up and saw the walls jumping at me, clawing at my skin still screaming the same words over and over again. “Save them! Save them!” So I hurried on.

Next was my own room, but there was no one inside. It would be my death bed, I thought. Everything was perfect inside this room; no blood was to be recorded, no messes anywhere. It was a perfect setting to die. Still, the shadows moved around in the room screaming, “Save them! Save them!” while looking directly into my soul. One of them ran to the doorway and screamed right in my face. “Save them! Save them!” and then the door slammed shut. My mind didn’t know how to scream, so I stepped back into the bathroom.

All around, there was blood: on the cabinets, on the shelves, the mirror too. The broken mirror was scattered around like puzzle pieces on the ground and around the sink’s edges. The faucets were steaming from the hot water pouring down the bloody drain and the bathtub was slaughtered with bloody footprints and handprints. I shut the light off and look to my right; my sister’s room.

I opened the door to her room and found everything trashed and spread across the floor. I could see her body hunched over her computer desk from the corner of my eye, but I didn’t want to see it yet. The television was crashed onto the floor, with the DVDs thrown against the wall and landing on the bed, broken. I looked at my sister and see CDs sticking out from her head, with the keyboard bashed against her body and the keys lying all around her. The lights started to flicker on and off, with the shadows passing through the room, screaming, “Save them! Save them!”

So I left the room and the door slammed shut. The light above me led me to the next room, which was my parent’s room. Dad, I thought. I opened the door and saw my father hanging from the ceiling, with the bed pushed out of the way up against the window. Blood was evident on the bottom of the mattress from the cuts he endured while they tortured him to death. I go inside further, only to find the door shut behind me; I don’t look back. I could feel someone breathing down my neck, whispering different questions into my ear, but I didn’t listen. I only answered.

“Because they deserved this,” I whispered back. The man laughed and I looked behind my back. He disappeared, and I glanced back into the room. The lights above were fading away, but I closed my eyes. There was the light all along, I thought. I opened them to find the shadows surrounding me inside the blood. I swallowed what was left inside, and nodded. I knew it would have to come. The lights were turned off and I didn’t have the candle to save myself. I heard the shadows move around until one of them was right behind me, and it whispered:

“You didn’t save them.”

I woke up.