“Mom?” Naomi said quietly, cracking open the door to her bedroom.

The hallway was dark, the door to her parents’ bedroom closed. But she was certain she had heard a thump from downstairs. Standing in the doorway, she listened to the sounds of the house, the wood creaking and a curtain moving somewhere near an open window.

And then, there it was again, a sound that didn’t belong. An odd scratching or cracking she couldn’t quite place. An uneasiness started to swell in her gut, but she pushed it aside.

She wasn’t a little girl anymore, afraid of the dark. And it wasn’t like the sound had woken her – she had been tossing and turning for a good hour by that point, caught between telling herself she was in the right and it was her mom that was too strict, and wanting to apologize for being a brat.

She might not have been a child anymore, but she would certainly never be old enough to disrespect her parents.

“Mom?” she tried again, raising her voice just a little bit, afraid she would wake up her father.

When there was still no reply, she stepped closer to the head of the stairs, peering down. A soft glow emanated from the door leading to the kitchen. Mom did always tend to clean when she was stressed.

Sighing, Naomi walked over to the stairs, the carpet soft between her toes. The ends of her pajama bottoms dragged across the floor as she descended the stairs, fingers trailing along the worn handrail.

“Look, I’m sorry about before,” she said when she made it downstairs, turning toward the kitchen. “I know it’s important to…” she started, but her voice disappeared into nothing at the image she came upon.

Her mom lay in a heap in the middle of the kitchen, looking like she had dropped where she stood. Naomi would have thought she had just fainted, or maybe had some sort of seizure… If it weren’t for all the blood.

Eyes wide and heart beating out of her chest, Naomi stood in frozen horror, her eyes moving over her mother’s lifeless body. Her long, blonde hair was matted with crimson. It spread in a pool around her head…

Naomi gagged, her stomach twisting as a lump of bile pushed up her throat. The whole upper part of her mother’s head was unrecognizable. Shards of bone stuck out from under her skin, her entire skull dented inwards.

It was as if someone had squeezed the top of her head, crushing it. When Naomi spotted bits of brain matter on the linoleum floor, she looked away, gripping onto the doorframe as her knees started to wobble.

No, no, no, no… she chanted in her head, squeezing her eyes shut.

This had to be a nightmare. Any moment, she would wake up in her bed. This was just because of the fight. This was just her subconscious, telling her she should just say she was sorry.

But when she opened her eyes again, she was still standing at the entrance of the kitchen, nausea and terror bubbling up in her chest. It was only when she forced herself to look around that she saw a man standing in the corner of the room, staring at her with cold eyes.

Shaking, Naomi took a deep breath, and let out a scream.

This is real. This is real, she repeated in her mind, screaming once more when the stranger stepped closer, his hands covered in blood.

Her father’s footsteps sounded from upstairs, followed by the sound of a door opening.

“Naomi?” he called out, worry in his voice.

“Daddy!” she shouted back, unable to look away from the man stepping over her mother’s body to get to her.

There was something odd and jerky about the way the man moved, and his narrow face was completely emotionless. Thin lips in a straight line, his eyes wide-set and his nose oddly short, he just blinked at her as he made his way toward her.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” the man said, a strange cadence to his words.

“Naomi? What’s wrong?” her father asked, rushing down the stairs in his robe, eyes darting around.

As soon as he spotted the stranger near the kitchen door, he ran in front of Naomi, reaching back to grab her hand. Naomi had always thought his dad a strong, imposing man. But next to the intruder, with his broad, muscular build and air of cold viciousness, her father looked almost helpless.

“Who are you? What the hell are you doing in my house?” her father demanded, raising his voice. “You okay, sweetie?” he added more quietly, squeezing Naomi’s hand.

She hadn’t noticed when exactly she had started crying, but tears were streaming down her face in full force now, dripping down her chin and soaking the front of her shirt. Shock was slowly being replaced with overwhelming panic, as she sucked in breaths but still felt like there was no air in her lungs.

“Mom,” she was able to get out through her gasps. “Mommy…”

She could spot the moment her dad looked over the stranger’s shoulder, and saw the sickening scene on the kitchen floor. His shoulders slouched suddenly, and his hand dropped away from hers.

“Jack Moore,” the stranger said, staring at her dad. “Where is the snake?”

“What… what did you do to my wife…” Jack muttered, his arms slack at his sides. “What did you do?” he shouted a second later, starting toward the stranger with his fists clenched.

“Daddy, no,” Naomi whispered, reaching for her father, but she only grabbed air.

Jack had already lunged at the man, grabbing onto the lapels of his jacket and shaking him violently. Naomi flattened herself against a wall, her panic too great for her to even form a complete thought.

The stranger looked unaffected by Jack’s attempts to pummel him, narrowing his eyes at her father before sending Jack flying across the room with a sweep of his hand. Eyes wide, Naomi bit back her sobs and ran to her dad, past their horrific and unwelcome guest, groaning on the floor.

Kneeling down, she tugged at him to get up, all the while stealing glances at the stranger.

“Where is the snake?” the man asked again.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she yelled. “There’s no snake here!”

“Then where is it?” he demanded, voice rising.

Walking closer, he grabbed one of Jack’s legs, and dragged the man to his side as if her weighed nothing at all. Naomi tried to hold on to her father, but the man easily pulled him away. Dazed, Jack looked up at the man, a hopelessness in his voice when he spoke.

“Please, don’t hurt my daughter,” he said, and for the first time, there was emotion on the stranger’s face.

“You sniveling sack of meat,” he snarled, baring a row of sharp, pointed teeth. “Tell me where it is or I will rip her insides out in front of you.”

Naomi gaped at the man as his eyes turned as red as the blood on his hands. Nothing made sense anymore. Head swimming, she sat on the floor, trying to figure out if she was losing her mind or not. None of it could be real, could it?

“Please,” she begged, looking up at the creature pulling her father up by his throat. “We don’t know what you’re talking about. Please don’t…” she trailed off, turning her attention to her father.

“I love you,” he mouthed, twisting around in the stranger’s grip.

“Enough!” the man bellowed, and Naomi could have sworn she saw long, black veins snake just beneath the stranger’s skin, just for a split second. “Useless…” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

Jack was now back on his feet, trying to pry the stranger’s hands off his neck, but failing.

“Run, Naomi,” her father rasped, his slippered feet scuffling off the floor as the stranger lifted him higher.

Something inside Naomi snapped. Pushing herself out of her terrified haze, she pushed herself forward, charging at the stranger with a desperate cry.

“Let him go!” she yelled, but was knocked back before she could even get close, as if a fist had caught her right in the gut.

Skidding on the floor, she hit her back against the edge of the entry room door. Pain flashed up her spine, and she struggled to get back to her feet. When she did, she was left to watch as the stranger held up her father with one hand, and gripped his head with the other.

“Run…” her father urged again, desperate, before his voice turned into a choked sigh.

Wrapping his huge palm around Jack’s skull, the stranger squeezed, until all Naomi could hear was her heart beating against her chest, and the sound of bone crunching. Adrenaline kicked in, flooding over her, sending blood coursing to her limbs as her father’s head was crushed before her.

Now in full survival mode, Naomi turned on her heel and ran straight for the front door. Behind her, a loud thump told her the stranger had dropped her father. Footsteps followed, but she didn’t look back as she unlocked the door in a frenzy and sprinted outside, as fast as she could.

Bare feet scraping across the frozen ground, her muscles pumping, she headed for the closest neighbor, screaming all the way there.

It started with ‘help’, but soon turned intelligible, just shouts of anguish and fear. Lights turned on all over the neighborhood, curtains moving and even some doors opening. Naomi just kept running.

And she never looked back.