A paper flier drifted on the breeze, fluttering past the power lines like a dead bird. A woman's face smiled from it, eyes glassy, unnervingly still.
MISSING, it read. But the phone number was torn off.
Down the street, a truck idled in front of an old country house. The front door creaked open, and Sunny, seventeen, stepped out with a worn bookbag slung over his shoulder. He rubbed his temple, groggy and hollow-eyed.
"Come on, Sunny!" a voice called from the truck.
It was Aunt Miriam, dressed sharply, sunglasses over her eyes even though the sky was overcast.
Sunny forced a small smile. "Coming."
He climbed into the truck. The door shut with a thud.
As Miriam adjusted the radio, she turned the volume down. "So, how you feeling, kiddo?"
"Like shit," Sunny muttered, eyes fixed out the window.
Miriam nodded. "That's normal… after what you've been through."
"Yeah," he said, barely audible. Then after a pause, "Do you think Mom, Dad… and Lily… are in a better place?"
Miriam's smile faltered. "I hope so."
She glanced at him. "The police said it was… murder."
Sunny didn't flinch. "I don't trust the police. I don't know what happened, but when I got back… they were just gone. No sign of struggle. It was like someone planned it."
Miriam sighed deeply, then turned back to the road. "Maybe so. But let's not talk about that right now. Let's just enjoy the ride."
As they approached a fork in the road, a large wooden sign appeared:
WELCOME TO WELLLDALE
"Welldale?" Sunny squinted. "Never heard of it."
"Small town. Quiet. Few people. But we make it work," Miriam said with a smirk.
They pulled into a wide driveway. The house was suburban but had an eerie stillness. All the homes on the street were identical—same color, same windows, same driveways.
"Weird…" Sunny muttered.
"Make yourself at home," Miriam said as she unlocked the door. "I'm heading to the neighbors for girls' night."
She twisted her hips as she walked away and drove off, leaving Sunny alone.
Inside, the house was pristine but hollow. An antique clock stood in the corner, frozen at 11:00. The kitchen was clean—but cold, unused. Every stair creaked as he ascended.
Upstairs, he passed three doors. He entered one room with a neatly made bed and a heavy table. A cat statue sat on it, eyes gleaming red under the light.
"Creepy…" Sunny muttered. He moved to touch it.
Next to it was a framed photo—his parents' wedding. His mom radiant in white, his dad proud and smiling.
He flipped it over. Another couple was faintly etched behind the photo. "Grace & Mark."
"…What?"
He backed out and moved to the next room—bare, except for a bed and a side table. He tossed his bag on the floor, looked out the window.
A cat stared up at him… then darted away.
Two kids played across the street, stiffly, like puppets. He blinked. They were gone.
"This town is weird…" he whispered.
He pulled out a picture of his family from his bag and placed it on the bed.
Suddenly—CRASH!
The house shook. The photo dropped—shattering.
"Shit!"
Blood trickled from his hand—glass had sliced him. "Ugh… where would she keep bandages?"
He entered Miriam's room and opened her closet. Something rumbled from within.
"…Hello?"
He opened it slowly.
The cat bolted out, knocking into another statue in the hallway.
It shattered.
Among the fragments lay a small metal piece. Sunny picked it up.
"A… camera?"
A red light blinked once, then died.
Footsteps.
A car pulled up outside.
"What the hell? She's back already?"
He glanced at the clock. Still 11:00.
He stuffed the camera into his pocket and rushed upstairs.
"Sunny, you unpack yet?" Miriam called.
"Almost!" he replied.
He watched her as she stepped inside and glanced at the broken statue.
"What happened in here?" she asked, not looking at him.
"Your cat knocked it over."
"…Cat?" Her head tilted slightly. "That's impossible. I don't have a cat."
Sunny froze.
"Must've been a stray…" he said. "It ran off."
Miriam smiled—too wide. "Hmm. Did you see a black piece in the mess?"
"Nope."
"Well, clean it up. Bandages are in my closet."
She turned away again. "Oh, and there's leftover pizza in the fridge. Shower, eat, rest—I'm heading out again."
The door shut.
The car left.
Sunny went to the bathroom. Warm water ran over him in the shower. He tried to relax. Until—
Thump. Thump.
Footsteps upstairs.
"…She left, didn't she?"
A voice—her voice—called: "Sunny. I just forgot something."
Sunny tensed. "I'm taking a shower."
"Come out, Sunny."
"Why?"
"Just do what Aunt Miriam says."
The voice shifted—growing rougher, more urgent.
"SUNNY. COME OUT. NOW."
He backed up, heart racing.
Suddenly—another car pulled into the driveway.
The voice stopped.
Everything was silent.
The door never opened.
A paper flier drifted on the breeze, fluttering past the power lines like a dead bird. A woman's face smiled from it, eyes glassy, unnervingly still.
MISSING, it read. But the phone number was torn off.
Down the street, a truck idled in front of an old country house. The front door creaked open, and Sunny, seventeen, stepped out with a worn bookbag slung over his shoulder. He rubbed his temple, groggy and hollow-eyed.
"Come on, Sunny!" a voice called from the truck.
It was Aunt Miriam, dressed sharply, sunglasses over her eyes even though the sky was overcast.
Sunny forced a small smile. "Coming."
He climbed into the truck. The door shut with a thud.
As Miriam adjusted the radio, she turned the volume down. "So, how you feeling, kiddo?"
"Like shit," Sunny muttered, eyes fixed out the window.
Miriam nodded. "That's normal… after what you've been through."
"Yeah," he said, barely audible. Then after a pause, "Do you think Mom, Dad… and Lily… are in a better place?"
Miriam's smile faltered. "I hope so."
She glanced at him. "The police said it was… murder."
Sunny didn't flinch. "I don't trust the police. I don't know what happened, but when I got back… they were just gone. No sign of struggle. It was like someone planned it."
Miriam sighed deeply, then turned back to the road. "Maybe so. But let's not talk about that right now. Let's just enjoy the ride."
As they approached a fork in the road, a large wooden sign appeared:
WELCOME TO WELLLDALE
"Welldale?" Sunny squinted. "Never heard of it."
"Small town. Quiet. Few people. But we make it work," Miriam said with a smirk.
They pulled into a wide driveway. The house was suburban but had an eerie stillness. All the homes on the street were identical—same color, same windows, same driveways.
"Weird…" Sunny muttered.
"Make yourself at home," Miriam said as she unlocked the door. "I'm heading to the neighbors for girls' night."
She twisted her hips as she walked away and drove off, leaving Sunny alone.
Inside, the house was pristine but hollow. An antique clock stood in the corner, frozen at 11:00. The kitchen was clean—but cold, unused. Every stair creaked as he ascended.
Upstairs, he passed three doors. He entered one room with a neatly made bed and a heavy table. A cat statue sat on it, eyes gleaming red under the light.
"Creepy…" Sunny muttered. He moved to touch it.
Next to it was a framed photo—his parents' wedding. His mom radiant in white, his dad proud and smiling.
He flipped it over. Another couple was faintly etched behind the photo. "Grace & Mark."
"…What?"
He backed out and moved to the next room—bare, except for a bed and a side table. He tossed his bag on the floor, looked out the window.
A cat stared up at him… then darted away.
Two kids played across the street, stiffly, like puppets. He blinked. They were gone.
"This town is weird…" he whispered.
He pulled out a picture of his family from his bag and placed it on the bed.
Suddenly—CRASH!
The house shook. The photo dropped—shattering.
"Shit!"
Blood trickled from his hand—glass had sliced him. "Ugh… where would she keep bandages?"
He entered Miriam's room and opened her closet. Something rumbled from within.
"…Hello?"
He opened it slowly.
The cat bolted out, knocking into another statue in the hallway.
It shattered.
Among the fragments lay a small metal piece. Sunny picked it up.
"A… camera?"
A red light blinked once, then died.
Footsteps.
A car pulled up outside.
"What the hell? She's back already?"
He glanced at the clock. Still 11:00.
He stuffed the camera into his pocket and rushed upstairs.
"Sunny, you unpack yet?" Miriam called.
"Almost!" he replied.
He watched her as she stepped inside and glanced at the broken statue.
"What happened in here?" she asked, not looking at him.
"Your cat knocked it over."
"…Cat?" Her head tilted slightly. "That's impossible. I don't have a cat."
Sunny froze.
"Must've been a stray…" he said. "It ran off."
Miriam smiled—too wide. "Hmm. Did you see a black piece in the mess?"
"Nope."
"Well, clean it up. Bandages are in my closet."
She turned away again. "Oh, and there's leftover pizza in the fridge. Shower, eat, rest—I'm heading out again."
The door shut.
The car left.
Sunny went to the bathroom. Warm water ran over him in the shower. He tried to relax. Until—
Thump. Thump.
Footsteps upstairs.
"…She left, didn't she?"
A voice—her voice—called: "Sunny. I just forgot something."
Sunny tensed. "I'm taking a shower."
"Come out, Sunny."
"Why?"
"Just do what Aunt Miriam says."
The voice shifted—growing rougher, more urgent.
"SUNNY. COME OUT. NOW."
He backed up, heart racing.
Suddenly—another car pulled into the driveway.
The voice stopped.
Everything was silent.
The door never opened.