Canto Two
Something Got Out
Dan and Gemma both awoke to a loud thumping coming from down the hall. He crawled out of bed without hesitation and grabbed his gun from the nightstand. Gemma’s hand went down on top of his.
“The kids,” she said, with a pleading look in her eyes.
He nodded and grabbed for the baseball bat instead. “Stay here.” The electronic clock blinked 12:00. “Power’s out.”
Gemma scooted to the edge of the bed as he opened the door and slid out into the hall. With his chest pounding, he snuck down the hallway until he came to Peter’s room. He cracked the door and peeked in. His oldest was laying on his back, dead asleep with the television on. It was nothing but static.
The next room was Jacob’s, his youngest. The boy was lying in the floor with his leg trapped under his body. Every few seconds, he’d hear a slight snore.
A terrified scream from downstairs pulled him from the room. He rushed to Ann’s room. The door stood wide open. Ann was gone. The room felt wrong. A cool breeze came through the open window, wisping the curtains back and forth. Outside, he could hear the constant barking of the neighbor’s dog.
Dan took the stairs two at a time, gripping the banister. He turned hard on the landing and ran into the kitchen. His daughter was standing there, next to the stove with a large knife in her hand. The blade was at her wrist. He stopped as panic rose in his throat.
She pointed the blade at him. “Stay back! Please.” Her hand was shaking, and there were tears in her eyes.
“Baby, put the knife down,” he said, inching closer. “Gemma! Get down here, now!”
“Daddy, please, don’t come any closer. “ She put the blade's sharp edge back on her wrist. “You don’t understand.”
“Help me understand, baby,” he said, kneeling down. His hand was out, trying to inch close enough to grab his trembling daughter. Gemma came into the kitchen and stopped, her hand covering a gasp.
Tears poured down Ann’s cheeks. “No, no, I can’t.”
Her fingers tightened against the handle as she pointed it at her parents.
“I want to hurt you,” she sobbed.
“Please… just get back.”
Gemma broke down at the sight of her daughter. “No, no, no. Baby, don’t.”
Dan lunged at Ann and grabbed her. The girl’s teeth went into his arm, and he screamed. He was about to take the knife away when her tiny fingers raked across his eyes. He stumbled back, and slipped on the tile. His little girl charged at him, screaming at the top of her lungs.
Dan managed to get her arms before she could drive the knife into his chest. Gemma wrapped both arms around her daughter and pulled her away.
“Stop me, please stop me!” she said, crying. “I can’t help it!”
Gemma tried to get the knife away from her daughter, but it was too late. The blade slid across the little girl’s wrist, opening the vein. Blood shot out, spraying the counters and cabinet. Dan rushed to her, but Ann screamed, and started slicing at anything she could. The blade raked across his forearm, but the wound was superficial.
Dan knocked the knife away from Ann, and grabbed a kitchen towel. He clamped it on his daughter’s wrist as Gemma struggled to restrain her. He dug through the junk drawer and pulled out a roll of duct tape.
“What’s wrong with her?” Gemma asked.
“I don’t know,” Dan snapped, struggling with the tape. “I don’t—God, I don’t know.”
He grabbed the phone off the wall and dialed 911, but the line was dead. He dropped it to the ground and looked for his cell. It was on the kitchen counter attached to the charger. He dialed the numbers again, but the phone wouldn’t call out. It just beeped in his ear a few times and disconnected.
“We gotta get her to the hospital,” Dan said. “Can you hold her while I drive?”
“I can try,” she said, straining against the flailing child.
Dan glanced up and saw Peter and Jacob, standing there in horror.
“Peter, get the car ready!” he yelled. “Jacob, I want you in the back—away from Ann!” They both nodded with large panic-stricken eyes and left, eager to escape the scene before them.
He grabbed Ann’s kicking feet and together, they carried her out of the house while she flailed like a hooked fish.
“Stop it!” she screamed. “Let me go. You don’t understand!”
The car was on and ready to go as they came outside. The headlights were blinding as he passed but he still saw Peter in the front seat, behind the wheel.
“I need you in the back helping Gemma,” Dan said. Peter hesitated as Ann flopped around snapping like an animal at anything near her face. “Now!”
Peter jumped out and opened the back door. Gemma pulled her daughter backwards into the small SUV and held her there while Dan and Peter switched off holding her legs. A stray foot caught the boy in the mouth, bringing blood to his lip.
“I’m sorry!” Ann said, crying. Her blood was already leaking out of the towel. “I’m so sorry.”
Dan jumped in the front seat, put the vehicle in reverse, and took off towards the hospital. Ann screamed and cried in the back, while begging for their forgiveness.
“I’m sorry,” Ann whispered, her voice cracking.
“Tell Mommy... the bad parts got out.”
