Echoes of Midnight

ECHOES OF MIDNIGHT

I want to tell you a short horror story. It's about the maturity and courage of a little boy named Liam, who had to face the worst after making a horrible discovery.

Liam was an only child. He had slept alone in his room since he was two years old because he had always been very independent. But at eight years old, he no longer wanted to sleep alone after he began to hear strange noises in the early hours of the morning: loud footsteps coming up the stairs and a hoarse breathing that sounded more like panting.

One night, he woke up suddenly in the middle of the night to the sound of loud thunder. Outside, the sky was falling. Normally, these things no longer frightened him, but this time was different; something was bothering him and keeping him awake. Although his room had always been completely dark at night, this time the sky was so cloudy that it didn't allow the moonlight to enter through the small, single window. Darkness had always made him uncomfortable, yet he was forced to face it. That was how he had been raised, to be stoic despite his age. So, hyperventilating from the shock, and surrounded by dense darkness, he jumped out of bed and went, with trembling legs, to open the door to his room, hoping that some light would come in from the stairwell.

He opened the door just a crack, because his parents didn't like Liam to keep his room open or the lights on at night. Luckily for him, a little moonlight came in through the skylight in the stairwell, illuminating the room just enough to penetrate the darkness of the whole house. He might not be able to do anything about the loud noise of the lightning, but at least he didn't feel so uncomfortable anymore. He might even be able to go back to sleep.

But life is cruel. Liam was going to bed when he heard those loud footsteps in time with the lightning, on the ground floor. The boy froze as he listened to someone (or something) slowly climbing the stairs. It wasn't just footsteps, but panting, perhaps masculine or diabolical; he wasn't thinking clearly at the time. Time seemed to speed up because, in the blink of an eye, the entity had already reached the second floor. It was then, when he heard that... thing step on the last few stairs, that Liam reacted and carefully and quietly closed his bedroom door a little. Despite everything, he had always been a very curious child, so he couldn't be blamed for wanting to see the entity with his own eyes, even though he was terrified. He didn't close the door completely but left a crack through which only one of his small eyes could fit.

Liam's room was the first one on the second floor. If you went up the stairs, on the right, you would immediately see his door, which faced a hallway. At the end of that hallway was his parents' room. Through that small gap, Liam could see most of the stairs and the door to his parents' room. It was then that he saw this entity stepping on the last step: a huge shadow, about 6 feet tall, Liam thought, with a thick build. In the dim light coming from the skylight, Liam noticed that the figure of that beast did not seem to be that of a man, because it was much broader in the shoulders, as if it were carrying huge bulges, and, moreover, it had no visible arms or hands. That thing was walking with a stagger, slow and heavy foot, as if it were carrying something very heavy. To add to Liam's terror, the creature also made a hoarse noise with each step. It really sounded like heavy breathing, but strangely beastly.

As the creature walked down the hallway, a bolt of lightning illuminated the scene, and Liam saw something truly terrifying. Where the beast's hands should have been, a pair of heads hung from its shoulders, shaking violently, one for each missing arm. Liam immediately covered his mouth with his hand to keep from screaming and closed his bedroom door completely, locking it carefully so that the shadow couldn't hear him (if it had ears).

He leaned against the door, listening to the thing's panting and its footsteps down the hallway. Terror overwhelmed him completely, so much so that he couldn't move, except to cry silently with his mouth covered so as not to make even the slightest sound. He knew it was heading towards his parents, but he was truly paralyzed. He heard the door to the other room slowly open and the entity make a noise, like a ghostly whisper, but unintelligible, and then the sound of the door closing again. He could barely make out all the sounds due to the distance between rooms, the barrier of both closed doors, and the thunderstorm outside, but what he could identify were dull thuds, as if something heavy and solid were being dropped on the floor. Then there was a moment of silence, except for the rain.

Worried, Liam carefully opened his door. Across the hall, he could see that his parents' bedroom door was ajar. It was very dark inside. He had never seen it like that before. Suddenly, a hand emerged from the darkness, seemingly clinging tightly to the floor, scratching at it to drag itself out. Then a deformed face followed that arm; everything indicated that they belonged to the same body. Liam could barely see that the swollen face with long hair covering much of it had something covering its mouth. But that figure couldn't get very far when suddenly a larger hand emerged from the dense darkness of the room (as if the shadow had grown arms) and dragged him back inside, slamming the door shut behind him. Then, lightning lit up the area again, a little too late for him to see anything. Liam also closed his door, frightened.

Total silence invaded the house, and except for the rain outside, Liam couldn't hear anything else. Paralyzed, he could barely analyze what had happened. He had heard the shadow climb the stairs a couple of times in the past, but he couldn't imagine who the owner of that panting was. On those occasions, she just listened to the strange noises while he was locked in his room. Perhaps he was a curious child, but on those occasions when he had the opportunity to get up and see who was making the footsteps, his strict upbringing led him to think that perhaps it was just his parents going upstairs and nothing more. He downplayed it whenever he could. But this time was very different. This time he could confirm that it wasn't them.

His head was spinning, and his heart was beating like an engine. He cried as hard as the rain was falling, but silently. After a while of whimpering, Liam's body couldn't take it anymore and he fell asleep, sitting against his bedroom door.

Liam woke up with a headache from the noise of his parents going downstairs, leaving the house, and starting the car. He was leaning against the door, far from his bed, which made him think that it could have been a nightmare and nothing more. The dim light coming through his window told him that it was already the next day, although the sky was still gray and cloudy. He didn't know what time it was because he didn't have any clocks in his room. In fact, he got up at almost noon because he had slept so much due to exhaustion.

The harsh reality for poor Liam was that his parents were never home. They left early and came back late at night. He knew very little about them, mainly because he didn't see them for long periods of time. When they came home, they barely spoke to him; every time they arrived, they went almost immediately to their room and locked themselves in. Liam grew up alone, without affection, and totally independent.

He left his room. In front of him, the door to the room across the hall reappeared. It was closed, as if nothing had happened during the night. Even so, he was afraid, but curiosity moved his legs as if it had complete control over his body, making him walk straight towards that door across the hall. He didn't really want to, but his body seemed driven by doubt. It wasn't until a few steps further that he stopped. He noticed that the hallway floor had stains on it. Not just any stains like the ones he left when he dropped food, but a material he hadn't seen very often: mud.

Liam's parents were not only unloving, but also somewhat strict, so much so that they did not allow him to leave the house under any circumstances since he was born. Liam did not know the outside world. The little he knew about it came from what he saw through the windows and the few old books and magazines he had in his room, since he was not allowed to go out. Besides, it wasn't as if he could, since all the doors and windows had security bars. He was also not allowed to use the television or the telephone, so he never knew how to use them.

That explains why Liam didn't know what mud was. He saw it outside when it rained, but he could never feel it or smell it or even know what it was called. In that hallway, he was able to get close to it for the first time, although he didn't know what it was. The mud stains had a particular shape, that of a shoe. Liam felt even more confused. One of the books he read when he was younger said that sometimes ghosts could leave part of their presence in something physical, such as a dirt stain, fingerprints, or a footprint. But those footprints were more than just traces of spectral activity, for they were very real.

As he thought about this, a loud noise came from his parents' room. It sounded like a bang, but he couldn't tell what it was. Once again, curiosity took control of his body, so, although a little frightened, he walked slowly to the end of the hallway. As he did so, he heard more banging. At the same time, as he moved forward, he saw more stains on the floor, some red and shaped like small threads leading toward the room, others muddy and shaped like shoes. Once he reached the door, he put his ear to it. On the other side, he heard a very faint moan, a muffled scream, and then a thud. Liam moved away from the door and ran to his room, where he locked himself in again. There, he analyzed the situation. Whatever had been climbing the stairs in the early morning might still be locked in that room.

From what little he knew about his parents, he understood that they didn't believe in anything paranormal. Or at least that's the impression they gave. So, emboldened and knowing he was alone in this situation, Liam left his room and went back to that door, ready to go in and see what was on the other side... But it was locked. On top of everything else, Liam's parents didn't allow their son to enter their bedroom, so they always kept it locked. As far as Liam was concerned, he didn't mind that they wouldn't let him in; he didn't care if they locked themselves in as soon as they got home, as it was part of their privacy. He had never given it much thought... Until now.

Looking back, Liam remembered a day when he was playing in his room. The door was closed, but through a small crack he saw his mother get too close to the wall next to the living room window. She was moving her hands as if she were looking for something behind the sofa.

It looked as if she pressed a button, and then her hands disappeared. A few seconds later, her hands reappeared, this time closed, and she put them in her pants pockets. She seemed to press the wall again and then left. As she walked away, her pockets made a metallic noise... like keys.

He wasn't sure if he would find anything useful there, but Liam decided to investigate a little, just as this memory showed him. He dragged the sofa as best he could. Like his mother had done in the past, he ran his hand up and down the wall until he found a loose piece of concrete... A secret slot. Liam's mixture of emotions at that moment was strange. He was fascinated by the discovery, but also confused, and even a little worried. Then he wondered, how important was what was kept in that compartment that it had to be so well hidden? And why hide it so carefully? He reached into the compartment and searched in the dark. Not only was it a fairly large and deep slot (he almost had to put his whole arm in to reach the bottom), but it seemed to be empty. He feared that whatever was there might have already been taken by his mother. He thought about giving up and looking for another way in, when suddenly he felt something. He pulled his hands out and saw what he had found. It was a set of three keys... Three? But there was only one door...

He went up to his parents' room. Just out of curiosity, he put his ear to the door again. He could still hear crying, but this time it was quieter, and there was no more banging. He tried one of the keys. It didn't fit. He tried the second one. It fit. That was the one. What about the third? He turned the knob and opened the door very slowly. The grinding was quite loud. Liam went in.

It was the first and only time Liam had ever entered his parents' bedroom. He had never been allowed in there before. He slowly made his way inside, taking small steps. He didn't know what he was afraid of, whether it was the noises or seeing something for the first time that he had never seen before. It was like discovering space and its enormity: he was both fascinated and terrified. He also didn't know where to look or where to start searching. Really, his parents didn't have much. Liam had no idea what the room looked like before he entered. He vaguely imagined that they might have a huge bed, a giant wardrobe with lots of clothes, a huge TV, a candy machine, a refrigerator, or maybe a fish tank. He didn't know what any parent's or adult's room should look like. Even so, he was surprised to find nothing that matched what he had imagined it would be like inside.

The first thing he saw was the unmade bed. Around it, on the floor, were several empty wine bottles. He also saw more shoe-shaped mud stains, so he thought the shadow might be there. They didn't have a television like he thought. Not even a candy machine. Strangely, they didn't have any furniture other than their bed; no dresser, no mirror, no table. It looked more like a cheap hotel room with its gray walls and the only window, which wasn't very big, covered with boards and newspaper, so not much light filtered in, making the door the only source of light. Because of the cloudy sky that day, Liam could barely see around him. What did his parents do when they locked themselves in an empty room when they got home?

Another memory quickly came to Liam. There were times when his parents came home later than usual. When that happened, Liam would lock himself in his room and eat cookies he stole from the kitchen so he could have something for dinner, because he knew his mother wouldn't make anything. When his parents arrived, Liam would peek through the door and watch them carry large cardboard boxes, sometimes long, sometimes plastic, and put them in his room before locking themselves inside. From the sound some of them made, he guessed that their contents were metallic. Despite being large a n d difficult to hide, Liam was surprised not to see them anywhere in the room.

Only one thing caught his attention. On the other side of the room was a closet, just as he had imagined: huge, covering the entire wall. Liam went over to open it. Unfortunately, the inside was not what he had expected. It was empty, except for a metal shelf with doors, locked with a thick padlock. This puzzled Liam greatly. Where did his parents keep their clothes? On that shelf? And why lock it? He immediately felt the need to look inside (the doubt gnawed at him). He thought that maybe the other two keys would open it. But just as he was about to insert one of the keys into the lock, a bang behind him made him jump. It wasn't just banging but also muffled moans. That's when he realized that the banging was coming from the floor, but it sounded like wood. More and more banging, more moaning, more squeals... Under the bed! He managed to identify that they were coming from under the bed, but how was that possible?

He closed the closet and slowly crouched down. Then he could see it in the dim light of the fading day... A head staring at him through the hair that fell across its face. It had large, shiny, yellowish eyes with small pupils and many red veins surrounding the irises. For a fleeting moment, Liam could see that the face had an expression of pain and agony. Then, a dirty, filthy hand emerged from the floor and reached for Liam, who quickly ran towards the door but tripped over the glass bottles. On the floor, he had a clear view of what was happening under the bed. Several hands were crawling out, accompanied by the sound of different voices screaming and crying. Many pairs of eyes, some red, others yellow, moved in all directions. Liam realized that those things looked like children. They had faces with small features, visible behind many smudges of dirt.

He got up as best he could and resumed his dash toward the exit. He left the room feeling as if one of those hands was about to scratch his feet. He slammed the door shut. He searched for the key in his pants pocket and tried to lock it, but his hands were shaking. On the other side, he could hear the scratching of those hands and the screeches very close to the door. He tried one of the keys. It didn't fit. The second key. It didn't fit either. Those things were close, he could hear them walking on the floor. Come on, hurry up! he thought to himself. He tried the third key. It finally fit. But just before he could turn it, one of those monstrous children tried to open it. Liam didn't let go of the knob and pulled the door toward him to close it. These things were the same size as Liam, so he could see one of them in the crack of the door as he fought to close it; for a moment he thought he saw it crying.

He mustered all his strength and pulled so hard on the door that he managed to close it before the thing on the other side could open it. He quickly turned the key and stepped back, relieved. He stared at the door, stunned and breathless. On the other side, he could hear banging on the door from those things wanting to get out and muffled cries in which he could barely make out a single word: "Help," while the doorknob turned violently.

Liam ran down the stairs and sat down on the couch, exhausted. He breathed in and out quickly, trying to calm down and analyze what had happened. He wasn't quite sure whether he believed in ghosts, but he couldn't find any other explanation for "it." He felt somewhat lucky not to have encountered the shadow he saw at dawn, but he also couldn't understand what it had to do with the ghost children.

While watching the stairs to make sure nothing or no one came down, he noticed something he had never paid attention to before. Right below his parents' room was the kitchen. And the kitchen ceiling seemed much lower than the others. Liam remembered seeing his father raise his arms and touch the kitchen ceiling with his palms, but he was sure he couldn't do that with the ceiling in the dining room or the bedrooms. He wanted to ignore it, since he knew nothing about architecture or house construction, and think that it was done that way on purpose, but he didn't know why this detail seemed troubling to him. He didn't know why his brain was suddenly giving it so much importance, and he wondered if it had anything to do with what had happened. What surprised him even more was hearing scratches and bangs on the kitchen ceiling as well.

The sunlight had faded. It was late. Luckily for him, the full moon brightly illuminated the stairwell, bathing it in a platinum blue light. It had stopped raining, but it was still a little cloudy. Just then, his parents arrived. Liam heard the car. They seemed to be in a hurry, because it didn't take them even a minute to enter the house. They were agitated, as if they had been running. They took off their jackets and threw them on the floor, soaking the doormat. Liam wondered why they were so wet if they had come by car. They ignored the boy and were about to go up to their room when Liam interrupted them halfway up the stairs with a loud "Hey!" It was the first time he had ever yelled at his parents, who turned to look at him, somewhat annoyed. If the ghost children didn't strangle him, his parents surely would. He was trembling because he didn't know what would happen next, but he was also determined that he couldn't stay silent.

Liam recounted the events in his own way, as a child would, with lies. Obviously, he didn't want to get into trouble, so he omitted the part where he entered the room and told the story as if he had heard everything from outside: the scratching on the door, glass bottles rattling inside, several children's voices. When he finished, his parents exchanged a knowing glance. They looked concerned. Without saying a word, Liam's father quickly descended the few steps at the entrance and headed for the back door in the kitchen. His mother followed him seconds later. Liam, still at the foot of the stairs, stood there a little stunned, not knowing what was going on. He couldn't see what they were doing in the backyard, but he could hear metallic noises. From experience, Liam imagined that his father was taking tools out of the backyard shed, where his father kept gardening equipment. He wanted to peek out to check, but suddenly his father came in quickly with a wooden bat, almost running. Liam stepped aside when he saw the angry man heading upstairs. From below, he heard his father enter the room, slamming the door.

At this point, Liam was already very confused and terrified. Many questions were running through his head. He wanted to go upstairs in the hope that his father would let him in to check that there was nothing there, but suddenly something pulled him by the arm. It was his mother, who told him he couldn't go upstairs until his father came down. Liam didn't say anything, because his mother's worried expression was frightening him. He stood at the foot of the stairs trying to hear any sounds from above, while his mother went to the backyard. At least 20 minutes of silence passed when he heard his parents' bedroom door open and close. His father came down quickly, but without the bat, and joined his mother in the backyard, closing the door behind him. Something was not right...

Liam approached the back door, where he could hear the strange things his father was saying to his mother, his words broken up by how quietly they were speaking, clearly not wanting anyone to hear: "... ... I took care of it, ... ... came out, the windows ... ..., everyone ... there." Something was definitely wrong... nothing was right. Liam remembered that he still had the set of keys in his pants pocket. What he was thinking was risky, but he didn't care anymore; curiosity was driving him. So, he made a decision. Stealthily and quietly, he locked the back door, leaving his parents outside. He had to act fast before they realized they couldn't get in. He ran upstairs and into his room, where he grabbed a small flashlight, which he mainly used when the power went out. Then he went to his parents' room. He tried two keys until he found the right one, which he separated from the set in case he needed it later. He entered the room, locking the door behind him. His little lamp didn't give off much light, but it was enough to keep him from getting lost in the thick darkness.

The first thing he came across was the bat lying on the floor, very close to the door, next to several pieces of glass. He noticed that the bat had the same red stains he saw on the hallway floor. The bottles that had been next to the bed now lay in different positions as well. He quickly realized that the pieces of glass were not from the bottles, but from the light bulb in the room. And the bed had been moved. It looked as if his father had had a fit of rage, thrown the bed against the opposite wall, and broken the glass with the bat. The only thing he couldn't explain was the red stains. He slowly walked toward the bed to inspect it. He moved his flashlight in all directions, trying to see everywhere at once in case he found something out of place. But he couldn't see anything. What could his father have hit with the bat? Nothing seemed to be destroyed except for the light bulb.

Then he stepped on something that made a noise, a squeak. He lifted his foot and shone his light on the floor. What on earth was that doing there? Liam had stepped on boards that were where the bed used to be. It was a small door with a padlock! He quickly grabbed the other two keys and tried one, but it didn't fit. With the other one he was able to open it. He set this last key aside, leaving the third one on the key ring to differentiate it. He removed the padlock and, still afraid but with even greater doubt, opened the small door in the floor.

He encountered an even denser darkness, a hundred percent black. He tried to illuminate it with his flashlight, but he couldn't see more than a couple of steps ahead. He braced himself to descend, expecting the worst. The shoe-shaped mud stains ended right in front of the door and disappeared. Surely the shadow lived in there. He descended slowly, step by step. Two steps... Four steps... Six... Ten... Floor at last. It really was quite deep, which explained why the kitchen ceiling was so low too. He allowed himself to fantasize about the crazy idea that maybe the shadow was a thief who had broken into the house and was living in the walls and was now fighting his father. Maybe that was the secret door to his hideout where he was hiding from everyone... Or maybe it was just the ideas of a terrified child.

Amidst all that silence, the cries he had heard before reached his ears, the cries of children. He prepared himself to see the ghost children again. Thanks to his small lamp, he could see that down there it was like a second room. In the middle of it was a dirty, broken stretcher, with chains tied to the sides that seemed to be used to tie someone's arms and legs, and red stains like the ones he had seen in the hallway. In general, the room smelled terrible, like rotten food, vomit, and blood. Although Liam didn't know what blood smelled like because he had never bled, he could sense that the stains in the hallway, the stretcher, and the disgusting smell were related. Underneath the stretcher, he also found mud stains in the shape of shoes. These muddy footprints continued around the stretcher and onward. Liam followed them.

The footprints led him to a corner of the room, where all the boxes he had seen being carried upstairs were now located. They were open and empty. He began to feel very concerned about his parents. This situation seemed far removed from anything paranormal. He felt a strong urge to leave as quickly as possible, but he lost sight of the footprints in the darkness, although he did not completely lose his composure. He stuck close to the wall and walked slowly, hoping that the edges of the room would guide him back to the stairs. Unfortunately for him, he found what he had come looking for. As he continued walking, the dim light from his flashlight slowly revealed what was in front of him. He had reached another corner, and there he found the truth. Along one of the walls of that place, he saw seven children tied up with ropes and gagged with cloths, no bigger than Liam. The ghost children! But there was nothing ghostly about them. Although horrified, Liam approached the little ones and shone his light on their faces. The bodies and faces of these poor little ones were bruised, with dried blood, burns, and marks from being tied up, as well as yellowish eyes, some red from crying, large and shiny, with small pupils and veins surrounding the iris. They were exactly the same as the ones he had met in his parents' room. They weren't really spirits, but real children.

Liam removed the cloth that had been used to gag one of the children from his mouth. This child, who was chained by the arms to a pipe protruding from the wall and visibly terrified, asked Liam in a very trembling voice who he was. Liam didn't know what to say, because he wasn't entirely sure. He could only reply that he lived in that house.

– Are you the son of the owners? –asked the tied-up child, looking very worried.

– Yes –replied Liam. He could see that, after his answer, the tied-up boy's expression changed to one even more disturbed. – How do you know that...?

– Please don't hurt me! –the boy interrupted, crying.

– I'm not going to hurt you. Who did this to you? –Liam asked, addressing the other children as he also removed the cloths from their mouths.

– As if you didn't know –said the oldest boy, about 10 years old, tied hand and foot with a rope. He had a badly swollen black eye and blood on his lips. Liam recognized this boy from when he struggled with him to close the door to his parents' room. – It was your damn parents! They kidnapped us and brought us here!

At that moment, something inside Liam changed forever. He felt something break inside him, and doubt completely overwhelmed him. He no longer knew who he was. The tears quickly began to flow from his eyes. He had to cover his mouth to keep from crying out in despair.

Seeing this, the children understood his pain and knew that Liam was also a victim of the situation.

– So, this is a house? –asked the oldest child. Liam nodded as he wiped away his tears. – How did you find us? Where are we?

– I... I heard noises at night –Liam began. – Those cries brought me to this hiding place under my… parents' bed...

Liam's voice broke. He wasn't sure who the adults who took care of him were. He thought they were his parents... but what if they weren't? Why did they do such cruel things? Why hadn't they done anything to him... yet?

– Are we under the bed? Like monsters? –asked one of the girls, the youngest, about 5 years old. Liam was overcome with a horrible feeling of guilt when he saw her beaten, scratched, and tied up. He stood there staring at her, unable to think; he was in complete shock.

– Where are they now? –interrupted a boy with glasses when he saw Liam stunned and confused.

Liam couldn't think of anything but his memories of his parents. No moments came to mind. In his memory, he only remembered them locking themselves in their room, where they barely made any noise, and not coming out until the next day, when they left the house and returned at night.

A vague thought crossed his mind. The memory of the shadow climbing heavily up the stairs. He then remembered the night before, when the shadow was heading toward his parents' room, and lightning struck the sky, revealing a pair of heads hanging from the shoulders of this spectral figure bathed in lightning. Of course... Now it all made sense. Some nights his father would come upstairs with kidnapped children and keep them in that small secret basement. That explained the strange shadow and the heavy footsteps from the weight of the children he was carrying, as well as the heavy breathing. The empty boxes contained tools used to torture the children. The noises in his parents' room were the children crying out, and when he saw those hands coming out from under the bed, it was them trying to escape. It made sense that his parents locked themselves in that room all day every day, without making a sound, because they weren't really in the room, but in the secret basement with those poor children... Doing what to them? And why? Why was Liam the only "free" child?

What made him free?

– Boy! Boy?! –the voice of the boy with glasses brought Liam back to reality.

– Where are the adults now?

– In... in the courtyard –Liam replied, still a little confused by his thoughts, but determined to do something. – We have to get out of here before they come.

– Why are you helping us? –asked the oldest boy. – A moment ago, you locked us up.

– I didn't know anything about this –explained Liam, as he untied all the children. – I thought you were ghosts.

Liam's flashlight flickered, threatening to go out.

– The stairs are close by. We have to get out of here right now –Liam said – Can everyone walk?

They all nodded. They were hurt and in pain but hope completely revived them. Liam didn't know it, but many of those children had been there for months. The two new ones (who had arrived the night before) were very lucky not to have been locked up for long.

– Come on, follow me –Liam urged.

The children followed Liam through the secret basement, surrounded by the dim light of the lamp. Several of them began to cry as soon as they saw the stretcher in the center, because it reminded them of the worst days. The others gestured for them to be quiet. Soon they reached the staircase.

– Once again –said the oldest child–, a new attempt to get out of here. But this time I think it will work.

– How many times have you tried to escape? –asked Liam, astonished.

– Only once, a moment ago –said the oldest boy. – But it didn't work out.

They reached the stairs. From the boy's words, Liam sensed that his swollen eye and bleeding lip were the result of his father hitting him with a bat. Liam opened the door to the secret basement. The room was still dark and silent, although he didn't know for how long. He was nervous because he didn't have a plan; he hadn't planned on finding real people under his parents' bed. Despite the years he had lived in that house, at that moment he felt an urgent need to flee, to escape as far away from there as possible. But he had no plan. He had never been outside, nor had he ever left that particular house. He knew that the doors and windows had protective bars, and that his parents were still locked in the yard, but who knew for how much longer.

– What now? –asked one of the new children. – Where to?

Liam went to the door, unlocked it, and opened it just a crack, just enough to peek through. Then he heard footsteps on the stairs, and he could see, by the light coming from the living room, the shadow of his father climbing the stairs. Liam quickly closed the door and locked it again.

– What did you see? –asked the children.

– They're coming this way –Liam said nervously.

– What now? –asked the boy with glasses.

– I don't know –Liam said hurriedly. – Everything is locked and has protective bars. How did you plan to escape?

– Through the windows –said the older boy–, but we didn't know they had protective bars.

– So, there's no way out? –one of the girls began to cry. The others gestured for her to be quiet.

On the other side of the door, they could hear Liam's bedroom door being opened forcefully.

– Liam! –his father roared, furious. He had managed to break down the backyard door with his gardening tools, just as Liam had feared.

The children heard Liam's bedroom door slam shut, followed by heavy footsteps approaching the room where they were hiding. Suddenly, the doorknob began to turn violently and the door was pushed open. It was their father trying to get in.

– He's in the room! –their father shouted, apparently to their mother, who was still downstairs. – Bring your key! That bastard freed them!

All the children screamed and shouted. But Liam knew this was no time for that.

– Help me push the bed –Liam encouraged them, taking on the role of leader, even though he wasn't the oldest or biggest child.

The children stopped crying because they also knew they were facing an extreme situation. Together, they all pushed the bed through the door creating a barricade. There was no other furniture in the room except for one piece: the shelf with the closet door. He quickly took the keys out of his pants and tried the one he had set aside when he opened the small basement door. It fit! He opened the cabinet and was impressed by its contents. Various tools such as hammers, saws, pliers, and ropes (which they used to tie up the children). Liam took the tools and passed them to the children. He didn't take any himself: when the time came, he wanted the others to have at least a chance to defend themselves.

– My father will be here any minute now –said Liam in a serious, determined, strong, and fearless voice. – We have nowhere to run. We have to defend ourselves. For now, let's reinforce the barrier.

All the children pushed the empty metal shelf until it fell over. They moved it as best they could until it was next to the bed, and they all sat with their backs to the shelf to push it with their body weight.

– Here comes the witch –said one of the children after hearing Liam's mother's hurried footsteps on the stairs. Then they heard the jingle of keys and the sound of her inserting them into the lock.

– They're almost in –said Liam. – Push.

The lock turned with the key and the door began to open. But it stopped. The bed and the shelf did a good job of blocking his father's entry as he pushed violently.

– Get the axe! –Liam's father yelled at his mother. – They're blocking the door!

The younger children began to cry, but they didn't stop pushing. One of the children, whom Liam had given a hammer, hid under the bed, scared to death, clutching the tool tightly, clinging to it with courage.

Shortly afterwards, they heard Liam's mother's quick footsteps coming up the stairs again. They knew the moment had come, the couple would enter the room, and it would be the end for them. A loud crash made all the children jump and tremble: an axe had smashed through the door with one blow, then two, three, four, five blows, until the top part was completely destroyed. The children moved away from the furniture, dead with horror and panic. Except for Liam, who was horrified and felt that his body was not responding well, but he was also completely determined to act. These were no longer his parents, but strangers who wanted to kill him. Strangers who did unthinkable and cruel things, whom he knew he had to face if he wanted to get out of there alive.

– Get your weapons ready! –Liam led, still a child. – We have to defeat these monsters!

The man managed to push open the almost destroyed door and entered the room, pushing the furniture aside.

– Damn kids... –he exclaimed. – I'm going to kill you all at once.

The children screamed in unison. They were too terrified to move. It was the end for them.

Slowly, the man approached the children with the axe in his hands, looking very threatening. To the children, he was not an armed man, but a brutal, monstrous beast of darkness that wanted to eat them. Suddenly, the boy under the bed took out the hammer and, as hard as he could, hit the man's foot.

– AAAAAGHHH! SON OF A BITCH! –the man screamed in pain, dropping the axe and trying to reach his toes with his hands.

In a reflex action, Liam ran towards the axe and picked it up with great difficulty, as it was too heavy for a child his age. He knew he couldn't carry it, so he grabbed it by the handle, thinking he could drag it along, but without success.

– Come on, help me! –Liam said desperately to the other children, dropping the axe.

The oldest boy, who had a medium-sized mallet, lunged at the man and struck him in the face with it. Immediately, the other children rushed at the man as well. With hammers, screwdrivers, wrenches, mallets, combination wrenches, chisels, and hand saws, the children struck the man as hard and as often as they could. Together, they managed to injure the man until he passed out. Many of the children had never seen blood in their lives (including Liam), so they were unaware of the damage they had caused to the man. They thought they had killed him when he fell unconscious from the blows to the head with the sledgehammer and hammer. Just in case, they tied him up with ropes anyway.

But victory was not yet theirs. As soon as they finished tying up the man, the woman's hurried footsteps coming from the staircase alerted the children. Quickly, Liam closed what was left of the door.

– We have to get under the bed –Liam whispered to the children. Obediently, they all hid under the bed, on one side of the door, and remained completely silent. Many covered their mouths to keep from crying.

– No way! –exclaimed the woman when she saw the man's body, injured and unconscious on the floor. – Damn kids, I hate them.

A click echoed through the room. The oldest child, who had experience with action movies, knew they were in serious danger.

– She has a gun –whispered the boy, his voice trembling, visibly worried.

As Liam listened to the footsteps of who he believed to be his mother, searching for them in the dark, he quickly thought about how to get out of there. He whispered his idea to the other children, who agreed. It was a temporary and risky plan, but there were no other options.

The lady had gone down to the small basement, so the children seized the moment. In pairs, they held hands and crawled silently across the floor until they left the room. As there were seven of them, one of the children was at the end without a partner. Unfortunately, the lady didn't take long in the basement. She came out of the small door and caught sight of the feet of the child without a partner, crawling like a baby. In her tantrum, the lady made a lot of noise as she stepped on the basement steps, alerting the children. Liam realized they were being watched.

– Run to the other room! –Liam shouted to the children in desperation.

They all got up quickly and ran straight to Liam's room. Suddenly, they heard a boom behind them and a thud on the floor. They entered the room and slammed the door without looking back, locking it.

– What was that noise? –one of the girls asked, terrified.

– That's what guns sound like –replied the oldest boy, his gaze lost in thought, for he knew what had happened.

One member of the small group was missing. The woman had shot the boy without a partner, who was standing behind everyone else. The girls screamed and cried, for they already knew the meaning of the shots and the death they brought. On the other side of the door, the knob turned, but the door would not open.

– We have to think of something fast – said the older boy.

The knob stopped moving, giving way to the sound of keys. Liam came up with another risky idea, but one that he believed would put an end to everything. The children had already dropped the tools, so any movement from then on was vital and there could be no room for error.

– On the count of three –Liam said– we all push my mother down the stairs.

The keys jangled as they tried to fit into the doorknob. The children huddled together in a ball so they could push harder.

– On one... –Liam started the countdown.

The key entered the lock and the knob turned, slowly opening the door.

– At two...

The door swung wide open. The moonlight revealed the silhouette of the woman, who was pointing the gun at the children. She didn't look like a woman, but rather a horrible shadow, like that of a witch, with a darkened face.

– THREEEE!

The children ran straight toward the woman, who fired quickly. One of the shots hit a girl in the shoulder, another hit Liam's bed, and the last one grazed the older boy's head, causing him to bleed, and bullet hit the floor. The children never stopped running... and managed to push the woman, who rolled down the stairs with the children.

Everyone was hurt and injured. The situation was not encouraging. The woman was motionless, blood pouring from her head. She had dropped the gun, which had rolled into the living room, because her wrist had been bent in an unnatural way. The other children were also motionless. Sadly, Liam saw the youngest girl under the woman, who had fallen on top of her. Blood was coming out of her little nose. He feared the worst, but he couldn't stand up; everything hurt, even crying. He wanted to give up. He was so tired that he just wanted it all to end. Suddenly, he felt very sleepy and extremely exhausted. He thought that perhaps he had no more life left to live; he had rescued the children and could leave in peace. He felt relieved and closed his eyes, wanting to sleep for a long, long time...

But he heard a voice in the distance, faint and muffled.

– ...Boy, get up... We have to get out of here... –the voice came very softly, as if it were coming from far away. – Come on! You must know how to get out.

It was the oldest boy, trying to wake Liam up. When Liam came to, he could see that the other children were already standing. All except the youngest girl, confirming that she had joined the boy the woman had shot. Liam stood up slowly and painfully, his head spinning.

– Do you know how to get out? –the oldest boy kept asking.

Without answering, Liam approached the woman and took a set of keys from her other hand.

– We can get out with this –said Liam. His voice was weak, as he had injured his ribs when he fell down the stairs. – We just need to see which key opens the door and which one opens the gate.

– Wait –interrupted the older boy. – We must talk to the police. My mom says that if something bad happens, you have to call the police.

– How do we do that? –asked Liam.

– With a phone. My mom taught me the emergency number. Do you have one?

Liam didn't understand what those things were for, but he knew that the device hanging on the wall was a telephone, because his pare… or rather, the grown- ups, constantly told him he wasn't allowed to use it.

– I think it's that thing over there –said Liam, pointing to the landline phone in the living room, a little embarrassed that he didn't know how to use it.

The older boy dragged a chair from the dining room and climbed on it to reach the phone. He dialed the police number and briefly explained what had happened. But they ran into the problem of not knowing where they were. Liam didn't know the address of the house... In fact, he didn't even know what the house looked like from the outside. He had never been outside; for as long as he could remember, he could not recall ever having been outside. Who were these people who called themselves his parents? Was he also being held captive?

– The police officer says to check if the lady has her purse –said the older boy suddenly on the phone, bringing Liam back to reality.

Panicked about what might happen, Liam approached the woman. He could barely look at her. Suddenly, she made him feel a little sick and scared. Still, knowing it was his only way out, he slowly searched her pants and found the purse.

– We found it, officer. Now what do we do? ... Aha ... Ok ... Kid –the older boy said to Liam–, he says to take out the ADI ... the AIPI ... the EYDI ... Agh! A little card with her photo. He says the address is on it.

Liam did as he was told. He found the ID, but before handing it to the older boy, he stared at the photo of the woman. He couldn't believe that this person had been his mother for eight years. He wasn't even sure she really was. He had no memories of her, or of the man. Even when he saw her on the ID for the first time, he knew the name of the woman he called mother. He felt... he didn't know how to explain it, actually. It was a very strange mixture of emotions. He decided not to look any longer and handed the card to the boy who was on the phone with the police officer, who read the address as best he could.

Liam sat down on the couch. He couldn't stop looking at the woman lying on the floor, her head covered in blood. He wondered if they had done the right thing because, somehow and without knowing why, he felt guilty.

Thirty minutes later, the police arrived. As soon as they heard them coming, Liam opened the door and the gate. He let the other children go out first; he felt guilty and responsible, so he wanted the others to experience freedom first. When everyone had left, he took the youngest girl in his arms and was the last to leave. It was his first time outside. He felt short of breath and dizzy, but strangely happy.

Once outside, he saw many patrol cars and ambulances with their sirens on. He didn't know how serious the situation was. Liam felt more relieved when he was able to leave the girl with the police and watch as they took her away with the boy whose had been shot, as well as attending to the girl with the bullet in her shoulder. As the children who were not seriously injured were put into different patrol cars, Liam could vaguely hear two officers talking.

– I can't believe we found all the missing children. We've been searching for them for months, said one of the police officers.

– And most of them alive, too, concluded his partner. They were very lucky. Those guys were crazy...

The patrol car door closed, and Liam could no longer hear the conversation. A wave of relief washed over his body, which was crying out for rest. He remembered the officer's last words: they were very lucky. The patrol started up and he leaned against the door. He closed his eyes. Outside, it was no longer raining or cloudy; the sky was clear, revealing the full moon in all its splendor. The storm had passed. Everything was fine, and he was finally calm.