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Chapter One

Quivering almond shaped baby blue eyes stare around at the sight of three bodies lying around in their own puddle of blood and gore. They shift from the corpses to blood stained white walls and various pieces of leather furniture lying in a square formation before a wooden coffee table and small television. A solitary tear streams from the left eye, a significant emotion that this was not how it should of happened, and yet, did anyway. These were the eyes of Aiden Crenshaw, a six year old girl that has just killed her parents, but doesn't remember it ever happening. In her right hand, stained with the blood of those lying around her, drops a bloody knife onto the hardwood living room floor, rattling when colliding with the harden surface. She couldn't believe her parents and brother were gone, and it was all because of her. How could she not remember slaying her own family in the heat of murder? You'd think someone would remember that. As if deaf, the ambient sounds slowly come into focus, which consists of a small music box playing an eerie tune on the coffee table and the television running an infomercial about a cleaning product. Her front door is thrusts open and police officers rush in to see the small girl standing in the midst of a large puddle of blood that comes from the surrounding bodies. She starts to cry more tears as an elderly Detective, wearing a long brown coat and dress clothes, rushes over to her and lifts the little girl up in his arms. He had a horrified look on his stressed out, wrinkly face at what she had done to her family, which would hopefully proven to be a lie.

" I want to know what the hell happened here. We received a call from this residence early. There has to be another person in the house. Fan out and see if you can find any clues as to what happened here, besides the obvious, gentlemen!" barks the Detective to his two officers that had joined him in the abrupt entrance. They start to search the area as the little girl hugs tightly to this man like a loving father, but find no sign of an intrusion of any sort; nothing was taken or scavenged through. If there was an intrusion, this person was very immaculate in their approach, but why would they leave the little girl alone? There's no way this cute, doll-like child could of done this. It's impossible!

" I want my mommy," the girl softy says through sniffling, looking at the man with a heart melting glance, which made him despise whoever did this even more. This girl was no older than six or seven and she lost her parents to the idea of madman.

The detective takes her outside, stepping on the front porch of their suburban home, a wrap around wooden porch with a swing that creaks softly against howling autumn winds. She lived in " Winter Springs", a hillside subdivision outside of California in a small cul-de-sac with six houses that have a similar two story Maine-ish look to them. Each one of the homes have a squared off flat grassy area next to a garage that attaches to them. Some of the lawn crowds with gardening or children's accessories to illustrate a somewhat decent and child-friendly community- the type of place you would want to take your child to and raise, or so they thought. He heads out to his blue and white cruiser with a Santa Flora Police Department logo on the side with a golden swoop behind it, putting her in the backseat and kneeling down next to the open door.

" I know you want your momma, honey, but that might have to wait a bit. Your mommy is gone for a bit. Don't worry, though, she'll return to give a great, big hug. Okay?" sincerely lies the detective with a faux smile crossing his full lips, which makes the little girl slightly smile and nod to his believable facade. She lost everything held dear to her, that poor girl. Now she has to go live at an orphan or with another part of her family somewhere, slowly losing the memories of her parents in the long run. How could you remember your parents if you're barely able to even speak? He thought about those words through a smile toward this girl, shutting the door and walking over to the two officers slipping from the house.

She watches him in audible conversation among his comrades, eyes shifting to a strange shape in the upstairs bedroom with the curtain pulled back to a slender triangular slit. Slender, stubby fingers, coated in blood, firmly palm the window, startling the young girl to look away in terror, as if whatever that is something she knows and doesn't want to see. She cautiously looks back toward it, only to see an empty window with no blood or a small hand. Could she have imagined it ? It felt so real. The Detective walks back over to his car and opens the door in a kneel, smiling at this young girl.

" Okay. Here's the plan, kiddo. We're going to take you to station and see if your aunt can come and get you. We found some information regarding her number. So, sit tight and relax. Everything will be alright," assures the Detective with a confident nod. She nods to him innocently and he shuts the door, climbing in the front seat of his cruiser. The other two police officers stay and set up a crime scene.

From the window, she turns her attention toward the Detective, who turns his cruiser around in the cul-de-sac and drives down the only street going into it to an intersection, where he takes a right going toward the main road heading toward downtown Santa Flora, a coastal, boardwalk community that's just outside of one of California's main cities. Santa Flora is your typical coastal city that relies on small mom and pop businesses to insure a decent livelihood. If you want an active, out going place to live or explore, Santa Flora is the place to be. He follows a hill path with a breathtaking scene of crystal waters waking across jagged rocks. The sun was slowly setting against a horizon lining in a vibrant purples, oranges and golds, a merriment of popsicle shades.

The young girl watches through the window at the sunset, remembering when she watched it with her mother, enjoying one another's company, but that's nothing more than a fond memory. Her mother is dead, like the rest of her family. And she's the reason why they will not be seeing another sunset. Could she have really killed the woman she loved more than anything? Could anyone truly do such a thing to the person they loved? She remembers when her mother said that there were evil people who did such things, that their form of love is through pain. Is that her form of love? Is she one of those evil people her mother told her about? All these questions seem to frighten her more to the realization that she may be as evil as she's thinking. Feeling drowsy from some unknown tire, she nuzzles the back seat of the cruiser and closes her eyes sniffling. What would life be like after this incident for her? Would her aunt look or any other family member look at her the same way if she did do it? Regardless of the word " family", those people sometimes treat you just as badly as ignorant strangers. As if the time spent together and bloodline means nothing. She couldn't handle being alone, feeling a slight case of separation anxiety at that moment. Only time will tell with this strange situation. It didn't like for her body to get comfortable and sleep takes over, lying limp against her knew awkward bed.

The Detective looks at her through his rearview mirror, smiling at the fact that she's trying to get some sleep before this thing gets big, which it will. Children involved in crime always hits it big with the media, even though these children are sometimes innocent. It wouldn't be long until those leeches were onto of this child with a million questions. He hopes she's a victim of circumstance, and not some adorable, sadistic child hiding behind a absentminded facade. He couldn't help but to place his own daughter in the mix, wondering if Alex could do such a horrible thing. He could see her lying in the backseat with blood all over her. What father wouldn't place their child in this type of scenario? It's the way of a worrisome parent, especially if they're the same age. Did he taught her way in the knowledge of good or bad? When she grows up, will she understand that the world is a cruel place? Had this been the workings of a neglectful family that drove this young girl to commit these acts of brutality? They're half of the reason why these children act out in this horrendous fashion. Had there been enough love and understanding between the family members? Maybe he's being biased with this child? After all, it is a child. Something about this seemed sketchy to him. This girl seem to legitimately show fear, pain and sadness, as if acting like a normal child. You'd think a child like that would be stoic and careless, but she had been crying by the time they got there. Suppose she is that evil. What drove her to do something like that? Hidden abuse? Neglect? Sexual indecency? The list could go on for days with something like this. Whatever the case, it met an outcome through her family.

He pulls out his sleek, black cell phone and dials the aunt's number one of the officer's found on a notepad and puts the phone up to his ear. A softly spoken woman answers the phone. The detective lets off a long sigh, which slightly disturbed the woman. A sigh always signifies something bad or worse than bad. The woman braces herself as gets ready for the bad news.

" Hello. May I speak to Carol Sheppard? This is regarding her niece, Aiden. It seems she has been part of a domestic incident," says the detective with a shake of his head, looking back the slumbering young girl, who shifts slightly in her sleep. He hates to tell anyone that their family member killed another one of their own.

" This is her. What's wrong?! What happened to her?!" she says in a frantic, demanding tone in her small kitchen with tears forming in her small brown eyes. Her soft, egg shaped head furrows sadness at a slender nose and thin, pouting lips. She loved this child to death and wouldn't want to see anything bad happen to her.

" I don't know. I need you to come to the station. I'll tell you the rest when you arrive there, Miss Sheppard," regrettably assures the detective, hanging up his cell and tossing it to the seat beside him.

He looks at the child, yet again, wishing this never happened, but he has a job to do and he can't let these people down. Grayish blue eyes shift from the rearview mirror to Santa Flora, glowing in the orange midst of a setting sun; sunlight bends around tall buildings and cascades dancing shadows that mimic the foundation they exhale from. It wouldn't be long until they get to the police department, nestled in the downtown region. He reaches a road along the boardwalk and beach area, seeing the last remnants of a sunlight fade across the sky and new beginnings of the night slowly breach those pastel colors through boardwalk lights and illuminated building lights. From a distance, Santa Flora looks like a slightly dim beacon of light to those trying to find their way to this place. He turns on this road to a road of several businesses, following it to the a main road in the downtown region, which lays with light traffic and a vibrant night life of people thriving for a good party or a late night snack; he could see them already gathering outside of the " Arrogant Pit", a ridiculously named night club for those on the " wild side" of night. Wild side, huh? Try being a police officer, that's wild enough as it is.

The police station sits cattycornered on a main intersecting road, a large, square shaped brick building standing out like an eye sore among the businesses. It consists of several large windows intertwined within the brick and a large sign reading " Santa Flora Police Department" in bold, white letters over two glass double front doors. He parks out front against the face of the building and climbs out, opening the door beside Aiden, who softly wakes and looks at him through a misty gaze.

" We've made it, Aiden. I called your aunt and let her know that she needs to meet him down here. I know you probably will not like that, but we need to figure this mess out, alright? Come on," he relays, holding his thick hand out to grasp her own.

She hesitantly takes his hand and they head up a small concrete walkway to a staircase spilling into the double glass doors. They enter through the door to a lobby seating area. You could see an open area with various seating arrangements on both sides of the wall and out amidst the white tile floor; on the far back wall, sitting before a small office, is the receptionist and crime relay center with two slender, slightly attractive women going about their daily work routines; next to that is a door leading out to a hallway that disappears into a sea of various officer desks and the detective rooms surrounding them; another door lies on the other side of the reception desk that leads to a hall of several different bland interrogational rooms. In one of the chairs is a worrisome woman looking down at her half drunken cup of coffee, given to her by one of the receptionist. She's a homely woman, as if she just came right out of House Wife weekly with her conservative blue turtle neck, heart shaped golden necklace and long black skirt falling over matching shin length boots. Her long, straight brown hair falling perfectly around her youthful, yet stressed face creasing with some wrinkles around her wide brown eyes, slender, pointed nose and thin lips. She looks up toward the detective and rushes over to greet them, kneeling to Aiden, who startles her slightly.

" Wh-why is she bloody?!" asks Carol nervously, her mind racing with the idea of rape or something just as brutal. Tears start to form in her eyes, wishing she could of done something, regardless of her ignorance of the situation.

" Don't worry, nothing happened to her, Ms. Sheppard. The blood is from someone else. Can you come with me for a minute? I need to have a word with you regarding this child's family," calmly asks the detective, gesturing toward the interrogational hall doorway. She asks Aiden to take a seat while they go talk, and they fade behind a door in the interrogational hallway.

" What's wrong? Why is my niece covered in blood?" she demands through forming tears, clenching her fist at this detective.

" Well, there seems to have been an " accident" or so I hope. You see, we received a phone call from your sister's residence about someone attacking them, but they didn't tell us who it had been. So, with my men and I responding to the call, we found your niece amidst a bloody room full of bodies with a weapon at her feet. It was her own family. Now, I'm not saying she's to blame, but there is no possibility of ruling out that she didn't do it. It looks far too suspicious to think otherwise; however, I am going to try my best to see to it that she is given the best damn case I can give her. I have my doubts," says the detective with a long, regretful sigh. Who wants to an aunt that her niece may be the cause of her own family's death?

" Are you kidding me?! She's a six year old child! I've known her for three years and she never once harmed a single person. Hell, she loves people, always greeting them with an adorable smile and wave. I won't believe that Elise's own child has killed her and her family. That's ludicrous!" growls the aunt through a shaking head. There's no way a child could murder their own family. Something about this seems very wrong. She's known that child most of her life and this didn't seem like Aiden at all.

" Yes, I wholeheartedly understand that your concern. I don't want to believe it myself, but I have to be open-minded about this. I don't want to jump to conclusions toward this child. Do you think I want to send a six year old child to some form of adolescent prison or a mental institute? That thought hadn't crossed my mind, Ms. Sheppard. I will try to figure out the whole scenario. All I know is that someone called and we saw a bloody little girl, which could translate very well as a conviction. I want to know all the facts before I can truly say this girl is capable of that," assures the detective, gently touching the shoulder of Ms. Sheppard, who nods toward him with some confusion. He's trying to help her and not throw blame toward this child. She knows that Aiden is innocent but he does need to do his case. That way it would definitely be proven that she's a victim of circumstance.

" So, what are you going to do about this case?" she asks, wiping her eyes of forming tears. She looks through a small glass window at Aiden, who had fallen back asleep against the chair. She smiles at her, not for the sake of smiling, but for a shining moment that this all could be a big misunderstanding.

" I will try to get some answers out of Aiden. She claims she doesn't remember any of the incident, which I'm hoping is a case of trauma. You have ways of getting around that trauma to the truth. I could make her feel comfortable, and hope that they memories will arise through the tranquility. You should go back home and get some sleep. I will let you know if something turns up. You being here might spark a sense of fear that may counteract the interrogation. I will let you know if something develops. Have a good evening," reassures the Detective, leading the frightened woman through the door to Aiden sleeping. She walks over to Aiden, who opens her eyes and looks up to her aunt curiously.

" Okay. I won't you to be good for the Detective, alright? He's a good guy. I know you're scared, Aiden, but remember this: I am not far away. I will come back to pick up in a little while. Until then, sit tight and do as the detective says, alright?" she says with a weak, yet meaningful smile, kissing the young girl on her forehead before standing up and leaving through the front doors.

Aiden watches her aunt leave, turning to look toward the Detective, who holds his hand out to grab her own. She takes his hand and is lead toward one of the bland interrogation rooms with an overhead fluorescent light, a single table and two chairs. He sits down at one of the chairs, gesturing her to follow in suit and sit across from him.

" Now, you probably understand that something is wrong, but unsure of what has happened, Aiden. You know that your family is dead, which makes you sad, but no how they died. That's where I come in. I want to talk with you Aiden, figure out what happened during the time of said black out. I understand this may be hard, but has to be done, hunny," says the detective calmly with a slight, reassuring smile toward Aiden, who nods shyly. " Now, this conversation will be between you and me, that's it, no other police officers present. I want to be your friend and help you through this, Aiden. Can you tell me if you remember anything during the blackout; hear anything out of the ordinary that comes to mind?"

" I- I heard a music box and screaming. I don't know if it is my mother's or the other two members of my family," she replies nervously, looking down at her fingers that fiddle around one another.

" Good. That's a start. Can you remember anything before you blacked out?" asks Michael, leaning across the table and staring intently at Aiden.

" It seem like a normal day. I was playing in the living room with my brother, and my mother and father were in the kitchen talking among themselves. I was playing with my doll I named "Suzy", and my brother walked into the kitchen to see what my parents were talking about. That's when I heard a strange voice saying that it wanted to play. I didn't see anyone around. I asked my family if they were calling me, but they said they hadn't, which scared me some. I thought nothing else of it and went back to playing," she says nervously, as if to await a judgment from this detective. Who hears voices saying that they want to play? That's borderline crazy.

" Did this voice say anything else to you?" wonders the detective, pulling a small note pad and pencil from his pocket, a just in case type of ordeal, which seem to proven useful in this type of situation. He writes down quick notes, listening to the child.

" Then I felt strange and everything went black. You know the rest," she says with a shrug, wondering why she heard the music box. The screams were obvious, but her mother's music box wasn't playing at the time. Not to mention, it was in her room at the time. Why would she be hearing it on the first floor? Something about this didn’t set right, like other things in this investigation. Why did this black-out occur and who was this voice speaking to her?

“ Interesting. So, you hear this voice and then everything goes black, huh? That’s very odd. Do you remember if you have any history of blacking out, Aiden?” asks the detective through his note taking.

“ Not that I can recall. All my doctor visits have been with a clean bill of health. I don’t understand what’s wrong with me. I am normal, aren’t I ?” pleads the young girl as her face melts to a furrowing sadness. This is not something she wanted, but had been placed in against her own will. She never wanted to harm her parents. She just wants to be a normal like any other child around her age.

“ Yes, you’re normal. You’re just put under a strange circumstance, that’s all. It could happen to the best of us. I need you to sit tight, yet again, while I go have a talk with someone, alright? I’ll be right back,” says the Detective, standing up and walking out of the room toward the hall leading toward the open space of offices.

Aiden places her elbows on the table and puts her face within them as sadness slowly overcomes her slender body. She has lost all of her family in a single night and has no one else to go to. Yeah, there’s her aunt, but that’s not the same. She lost those who care about her because of something she did. But what was it that she did? Something took over her and did something horrible to the people she loved. She would never do such a thing. She’s nice to everyone she meets, even if they don’t deserve it. That’s how she was raised to be. Through a rough exhale, she hears the sound of wet footsteps moving around her. She looks up and around for them, but sees nothing originating against the sound.     

She slips out of the chair and looks around, listening for the sound. A cold sensation fills the air, which makes Aiden gently rub her shoulder. The fluorescent lights begin to flicker as her breath comes out as a cool cloud against the strobe. It’s starting to get strangely cold in that small room. She hears footsteps move rampantly around her, as if a child were playing around her with bare feet. Frightened by these sounds, Aiden quickly heads to the door, but it shuts before she could try and open it. She hits and pounds on it frantically, yearning to grab the detective around his waist and cry for his protection. She turns back toward the room as it continues to strobe, seeing a light hint of something moving beyond the flicker; light hints of what appears to be a little girl with long red hair, wearing a white, mangled dress that falls just below her knees. Her eyes widen and she falls against the door, sliding gently down it to a seated position. The subliminal little girl walks toward Aiden as she claws toward the slender door handle, but the fear keeps her at bay.

“ You will play with me, Aiden. It’s just a moment of time,” says the girl cheerfully. She fades and everything goes back to normal in that small room. Aiden looks around frantically, wondering where the little girl went. That little girl sounded just like the voice she’d heard previously before blacking out. Is this girl following her like an unseen ghost? No, that’s not possible. People can’t just fade in and out of reality, can they? She’s aware that she is only six, but fully understands that that seems very unlikely. She stands to her feet and walks over to the table as the room door flies open with a frantic detective looking around for Aiden, who quickly embraces him in a fury of tears. He kneels to her in a fatherly embrace. Something has frightened this child, hearing her voice only moments ago, which made him come to the room as fast as he possibly could.

“ What’s wrong, Aiden?! What happened to you?! Why were you screaming?!” he wonders through frantic questions, looking around between her and the room, but sees nothing to harm her. She clings violently onto the detective like it was one of his own. He lifts her up in his arms and gently rocks her as her head rests on his left shoulder, sniffling at the fear she tries to calm down. He didn’t understand what happened, and from the looks of it. He rocks her softly and rubs her slender back.

“ I saw a girl. She was in this room with me,” she replies against a shuddering breath, looking anxiously around the room for that red headed girl.

“ There’s no one in here, Aiden. Are you sure it was a girl?” says the detective, looking around the room, but he saw no girl or anyone else. Has the trauma of what happened mess with her mind? They say that trauma can do weird or scary things for the mind. Perhaps this was one of those times. He carries her over to the table and sits Aiden on his lip, she continues to cling to him in fear. He comforts her as the slender detective barges into the room, having heard the screams, as well

“ Can I have another word with you, Michael?” asks John sternly. Michael tells Aiden to sit tight, that nothing will bother her, and if it does, to knock on the door when it happens. She hesitantly nods and sits against the wall beside the door. They both stand outside of the door as Aiden watches around the room with a sense of dread .” What the hell just happened in there?”.

“ I don’t know, but something scared her to death,” says the detective with a shrug, looking between the door and John.

“ Something? There isn’t a damn thing in that room to scare her. This girl is very unstable and you don’t want to accept it because you’re looking at this as a father, and not a detective!” disciplines the other detective with a harden exhale and shake of his head.

“ I am thinking like a human being with this, John. She is legitimately scared, both now and beforehand. I don’t think this girl is dangerous. It has to be something else, I’m sure of it. Would you want to sit there and accuse this girl if it had been your own child?” says the detective with a narrowing glance toward this man. He’s treating this girl like some sadistic individual. She’s a child, which means she works on emulation. Maybe she saw this and thought it was alright? That doesn’t necessarily translate to something sadistic or mean. He needs to ask her aunt about this whole situation. Perhaps she could enlighten the detective