Pastel Nightmare

The Johnsons were the quintessential suburban family. Laura, her husband Mark, and their two kids, Ellie and Ben, loved going all out for the holidays. Easter was no exception. Pastel-colored eggs, garlands, and bunny decorations adorned their home every year, but this time, Laura wanted to make it extra special.

On a whim, she took a detour on the drive home from the store and stumbled across a roadside stand she’d never seen before. It was small and ramshackle, with faded signs advertising "Unique Easter Decorations! One of a Kind!" A strange old man with a toothy grin waved her down, his bony fingers gesturing to an array of decorations.

Despite the eerie vibe, Laura couldn’t resist. The items were beautiful—too beautiful, she thought. Ornately painted eggs, garlands that shimmered unnaturally, and, at the center, a set of life-sized bunny figures, their fur-like texture so lifelike she could swear she saw it ripple in the breeze.

“These are stunning,” she said, running her hand over the largest bunny’s face. Its wide, painted smile made her shiver. “How much for the set?”

The old man’s grin widened. “They’re a steal, miss. But I should warn you—these bunnies bring... energy to any home.”

Laura laughed nervously but bought the set anyway. She loaded the decorations into her car and drove home, eager to surprise her family.

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The bunnies were a hit—at first. Ellie and Ben loved their goofy, oversized smiles and soft, pastel fur. Mark joked that they looked so real they might hop away. Laura placed them throughout the house: one in the living room, one by the kitchen, and one on the front porch.

That night, as the family settled into bed, Laura thought she heard something strange. A faint scraping sound, like claws on wood. She dismissed it as the wind and went back to sleep.

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By the next morning, things had changed. The bunny on the porch was no longer sitting by the door but had moved several feet closer to the edge of the steps. Its painted smile seemed wider, its black glassy eyes fixed toward the house.

“Did one of you move this?” Laura asked at breakfast.

Ellie shook her head. “I didn’t touch it.”

“Maybe the wind,” Mark offered, but his tone was uncertain.

That night, the sounds returned—this time louder. A thump came from the kitchen, followed by the unmistakable creak of floorboards. Laura sat bolt upright, nudging Mark awake.

“Do you hear that?” she whispered.

Mark groaned. “It’s probably just the house settling.”

But the sound grew louder, now accompanied by a faint, raspy chuckle.

Laura grabbed a flashlight and crept downstairs, her heart pounding. The kitchen was empty, but the bunny that had been by the pantry now sat at the table, its head tilted unnaturally to the side. Its smile seemed to stretch wider, its eyes glinting in the dim light.

“Mark!” she screamed, backing away.

By the time Mark arrived, the bunny was back by the pantry, as if it had never moved. He stared at Laura, his brow furrowed. “You’ve been working too hard. Let’s go back to bed.”

But Laura knew what she’d seen.

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The next day, things escalated. Ellie ran screaming from her room, claiming one of the bunnies had been standing in her doorway, watching her. Ben swore he heard whispering coming from the living room. And when Mark tried to laugh it off, his humor evaporated the moment he found the bunny from the porch sitting inside the house, its paws pressed against the living room window, staring out at the street.

“We’re getting rid of these things,” Mark said, hauling the bunnies into the backyard that afternoon. He dumped them into the shed and locked the door.

That night, the noises grew deafening. The scraping turned into loud thuds as if something heavy was slamming against the walls. Laura peeked through the curtains and screamed. The bunnies were back, standing in the yard, their heads all turned toward the house.

Their smiles were gone.

In their place were gaping maws lined with sharp, jagged teeth. Their eyes glowed faintly red in the darkness, and one of them raised a paw, pointing directly at Laura.

“Mark! They’re outside!” she cried, but when Mark ran to look, the yard was empty.

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The family tried to leave the house the next day, but their car wouldn’t start. The bunnies reappeared, each time closer. By nightfall, they were inside again, silently stationed throughout the home.

The whispers returned, louder now, like a chorus of mocking voices. Ellie and Ben cried themselves to sleep, and even Mark couldn’t deny the fear in his eyes as he held Laura’s trembling hand.

When midnight struck, the lights flickered, and the air turned icy. The bunnies moved—slowly at first, their bodies twitching unnaturally. One by one, they turned toward the family, their jagged grins splitting wider as they advanced.

The Johnsons huddled together in the living room, Mark brandishing a kitchen knife that seemed laughable against the growing threat. The largest bunny stepped forward, its clawed hands stretching unnaturally long.

“Leave us alone!” Mark shouted.

The bunny tilted its head, its voice a guttural, echoing rasp. “You invited us in.”

The lights went out, plunging the house into darkness. The last thing the Johnsons heard was the sound of claws scraping across the floor and the echo of laughter—high-pitched, relentless, and inescapable.

________________________________________

By Easter morning, the house was eerily silent. The neighbors found the Johnsons’ front door ajar. Inside, the house was pristine, save for a single, chilling detail: four new life-sized bunnies sat in the living room, their pastel fur perfect, their smiles wide and frozen.

And on the largest one, painted in delicate script, were the words:

"Happy Easter. New family welcomes us."

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