The Dark Robbery | By: Andrew Reed | | Category: Short Story - Horror Bookmark and Share

The Dark Robbery

The Dark Robbery:

The sun was on its way down, sinking drowsily into the distant Western hills. The result was an orange-ish grey cast which descended upon the surrounding landscape. Viola walked adamantly, briskly, as though she had a purpose, down the sidewalk. Trees towered above her, obscuring her pretty, young, face with strange shadows. The crunch of dead leaves sounded beneath her feat as she stepped. She turned suddenly to go up a walkway which led to an old, picturesque, white, two storied house. The ancient rocking chair, which sat on the porch, rocked easily in the cool evening breeze.
Viola proceeded to go up the porch's steps. She met Lucifer at the door. "So you have found salvation?" He asked, in a dreamy, distant voice which was barely audible to Viola. He then firmly gripped the door handle with his powerful hand and, with a motion, showed Viola inside.
The floorboards gave a lonely creak as she stepped through the threshold and onto the hardwood floor. This was an old house. She could feel its age within her, its former inhabitants screamed through her blood. Cracks between the drawn curtains allowed the dying sunlight to break through the darkness of the elegant looking, upper middle class, guest room. The air was heavy. Breathing became slightly more difficult than it had been outdoors. It was evident that no one was home. Of course, this was no suprise to Viola.
She looked up the dark staircase. Her gaze fell momentarily upon the family portraits which lined the wall, then to that beautiful antique vase which rested atop the stairway. The one that she had always admired. Though, she thought the vase especially pretty because within it, the flowers were now dead and crumbling onto the floor. Smiling slightly she finally made her way up the steps. This house was not unfamiliar to her. Viola knew her destination. She had, afterall, been here many times before. Certainly, however, never under such circumstances.
A bit of elation ran through her body as she arrived in Danielle's room. The pink carpeting and flowered wallpaper still shone in the dim twilight. Viola slid open the top drawer of an old oaken dresser and gazed down upon a wealth of jewelry boxes and scattered valuables. Quickly, one could say violently, she filled her jean pockets to desire.
She then sat down on the soft canopy bed amid an army of stuffed animals. Out of her coat pocket she lifted a pack of slim cigarettes and proceeded to light one. She inhaled deeply, soaking in the moment. Her calm reflection was interrupted by the slamming of the front door, which Viola soon realized she left open.
The sound of foot steps quickly ascending the stairs caused Viola to rise to her feet. Once again digging through her pockets, spilling jewelry onto the pink carpeting, she drew a pocket knife and flipped open the blade. Now one could step away from the situation and say that the drawing of the knife was some kind of animalistic instinct, a mere reaction to the circumstances enhanced by her fragile thirteen year old mind. But, as she viewed her distorted reflection in the blade a sense of satisfaction swept over her, displacing any remaining feelings of alarm. An inner voice seemed to call to her, telling her her it was alright. That this all was supposed to be happening. This was fate.
Within seconds Danielle had found her way to her own room. She stopped her progress into the room suddenly, as she beheld Viola standing with her knife pointed at her. At first a nervous laugh from Danielle broke the silence.
"What are you doing here Viola? You knew I wouldn't be home yet." Her voice wavered.
"Well I'm sorry, my love," Viola responded, "But I've decided to rob you. It's only a few of your jewels, you see." Motioning with her gaze to the fallen valuables lying on the carpet. "You know, I've been having some of the strangest feelings lately. Danielle, I believe I am evil. Whatever I was, now I am not. In fact, I am now the exact opposite of the Viola you knew. I'm a bad girl Danielle, an evil, destructive girl. But I love it. I embrace it. I find comfort, a home, within it. I've found a new glove, my darling, and it fits!"
At this moment Viola barbarously sliced her own arm with the blade. She watched, anticipatingly, as blood collected on her skin and dripped down to her elbow. She then looked back up to Danielle with a sense of accomplishment.
"You see, this is who I am." Viola said in an exited voice, becoming seemingly more crazed at each instant. "I am in love with all that is wrong, inhumane, and immoral. I scoff at holiness, and morality. They disgust me. Being moral has brought me nothing. Being sinful brings me feeling. The floodgates have opened, my love, and I am alive for the first time!"
Danielle's face became pale long before Viola's demented soliloquy. She looked on, horrified at what had become of her friend. A tear that had been gathering in her large blue eye fell.
"So, your finished taking my stuff then?" Danielle asked in a defeated, audibly frightened tone.
"Yes, my love." Said Viola with mock sympathy. And proceeded to push her way through the bedroom door. Harshly bumping shoulders with Danielle on the way out. The sun had set and the house was now completely dark with the exceptions of the front porch light, and a single lamp, both of which Danielle had turned on in haste on her way up. As Viola descended the stairs she fixed her gaze on the front door. As she got closer, the porch light turned, increasingly, to a dark, crimson red.
As she arrived at the threshold she felt a cold breathing at her right shoulder. This surprised her, as she dropped her knife and spun around, again beholding the powerful figure of Lucifer.
"Are you finished, Viola?" He asked, again in a distant dreamy voice. "You know, you only have nine out of the ten."
"I have only nine out of the ten." Viola repeated. Immediately she reached down to retrieve the knife, turned around and, again, ascended the stairs.
By now Danielles room was fully illuminated. Danielle was sobbing, face down, into one of the pillows of her bed.
"Please leave me alone now, Viola. My parents will be home soon. You'll be in so much trouble for this!" She managed to say in muffled, defeated tone. .
"That's a good thing, then." Viola replied calmly, completely unheeding the desperate threats of Danielle. "Now take your clothes off."
There was no response from Danielle.
"Take your fucking clothes off bitch!" At which Viola flipped off one of Danielle's sandals. Danielle jumped up, but Viola stopped her at the point of the knife's blade. It was then, Danielle realized, that she had run out of options. There was no alternative but to proceed with her assailant's wishes.
Slowly, straight faced, and un-emotionally she removed her other sandal, belt, jeans, tanktop, and finally her undergarments. Danielle sat naked on her bed, looking up at Viola questioningly. Viola now had a full view of the object of every young man's desire. There sat Danielle, the sexiest, most fashionable girl in school in all of her pubescent glory. Of course Viola was a close second, but Danielle was always number one.
Presently, Viola rummaged around the room, collecting four items of clothing which would each serve to secure one of Danielle's bare limbs to one of the canopy posts of the bed. After her victim was secured, Viola loomed over Danielle's adolescent body. While hovering over her under-developed breasts, Viola extended her tongue to a nipple, and felt it harden to the touch. Danielle squirmed a bit, but soon resigned.
"Well its been a pleasure, but I'll be seeing you, my love." Viola said, preparing to leave. "I'd love to be here when they find you, really, but I must be on my way."
She turned her back to her catatonic victim, took three steps toward the bedroom door, hesitated, turned back, and plunged her knife into the naked breast of the gorgeous Danielle.
It all happened in an instant. Danielle lay lifeless with a panicked, distant gaze locked onto her pale face. As Viola withdrew the knife, a gush of blood ran out of the wound, staining the bright white bedsheets. She then wiped the excess of blood from the knife and closed the blade, replacing it into her pocket. She quickly swept up some of the jewelry which had fallen to the floor.
The spell was broken. Deep in her soul Viola could feel that it was now time to leave. Fate had fulfilled itself. She was in no hurry descending the staircase for a second time, absently noting that the porch light no longer shown red. This time she managed to cross the threshold and went out into the bitter, October night. The sky was crisp, and clear. The starlight struck her slowly. The waxing moon held lone witness to the night's dark events. Proceeding down the sidewalk, Viola could once again feel a cold breathing on the back of her neck. But this time it felt almost familiar. She no longer had to wonder who, or what, was behind her.
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