Meet the Sinclairs

The sun is about to set over the horizon, a big red moving truck drives down a regular street in the outskirts of a regular middle west town. The driver, wearing a red cap, looks blankly at the address on the blood-stained paper. Six hundred sixty-six Elm Street, that is the address; that is where he is supposed to deliver his cargo. The house is old and creepy, nobody must have lived here in years. A neighbor, watering his lilies, waves at him. The driver does not respond. He cannot, it is not part of his instructions. The neighbor hopes that the new tenants of the house will be friendlier than the driver. He shakes his head and goes back inside his home looking at the stormy clouds accumulating in the reddish sky.

The sun finally hides behind the mountains, the driver looks at the twin bite marks on his neck in his rear-view mirror. He shrugs at some both pleasant and terrifying memory and jumps out his cabin. He closes the door and turns around to start unloading the truck.

***

Three hours later a black hearse parks behind the truck. Three slender silhouettes step out. Two women and a man. Two of them are slightly over dressed, the third would not be out of place in nineteenth century French brothel. The older woman wears a long black dress with a steep V-shaped cleavage, the man a black tuxedo with a blood red necktie and the young one is wearing a skimpy black lace see though top with no bra under it and a tiny tiny mini skirt over fishnet stockings.

From across the street, Gabriela hiding behind her curtains spies on them. She ducks into cover when the youngest woman turns around to look exactly in her direction. When Gabriela looks out again, a full minute later, the silhouettes are gone and a light is on in the house. She didn’t know that the house had power. She struggles for a while but, finally, she decides that she should get a closer look. Gabriela is a serial killer enthusiast and who else but a serial killer would buy the haunted house across the street?

Maybe three serial killers?

Gabriela is also quite curious.

She sneaks in the bushes by the house when the front door opens. She freezes. The male figure she saw from across the street steps out on the porch. He is carrying what looks like a heavy rug on his shoulder. He is tall and strangely handsome with his bowtie and his slender black moustache. This mess stinks of serial killer. Gabriela is thrilled and a little wet.

“Okay ladies, I’ll take care of this, in the meantime why don’t you start unpacking? Summer, don’t go to sleep too late you have school tomorrow.”

School? Gabriela wonders if the new girl will be in her class. Meanwhile the man throws the rug into the back of the truck, pulls down the back door and steps into the cabin. As the truck drives up the street, Gabriela takes a look inside the house. The kitchen seems to be empty except for a few unpacked boxes and the red cap of the truck driver, she moves to the living room window. The older woman is sitting in a large arm chair drinking a glass of what looks like thick red wine. Older is inappropriate because old, she is not. In her late thirties, maybe early forties, and extremely beautiful, she is definitely older than the other one, the one who looked back when she was spying on them from her bedroom. Gabriela shivers at that thought. There’s something both exciting and absolutely terrifying at the idea of that girl seeing her. But that is not possible, it was night time and the window was at least a hundred and fifty feet away. There is no way in hell that the girl could have seen her… Impossible, and yet…

Behind the woman, three large dentist chairs with weird machinery attached to them. The machinery is composed of plastic tubes, glass jars and a pump. The jar are stained red. Gabriela’s mind starts speculating all over the place.

“What the hell are those things?”, the serial killer enthusiast wonders.

Gabriela moves on to the next window trying to sneak a peek. She knows the house by heart because, on many occasions, she sat on the dusty floor imagining it as the lair of some terrible monster. This is the smaller room, the one with humidity stains on the ceiling. The curtains are closed but she can definitely see some movement inside. The younger woman seems to be unpacking. Suddenly the shadow stops moving. Gabriela freezes, has the girl spotted her? She can’t have…