It all began one day in North Haverdyke. It was an ordinary town and I was an ordinary girl of ordinary height, ordinary weight, ordinary coarse straw hair and ordinary light green eyes. All in all, I, the town and the townsfolk were pretty ordinary; until the day he came…
“Brooke!” Ma yelled from downstairs. “What?!” I yelled back, throwing on my black hoodie and studded trainers. “I want you to take Cara up to the house on the hill!” Ma screeched. I froze, black eyeliner centimeters from my face. Did she just say Cara? My little sister Cara, who just entered first grade, was going to the House on the Hill? Was my mother insane?! Of course she was, because a few years back she herself told me NOT to go there! And anyway, she knew that I, Tiana and the guys were going down to the arcade after dinner.
Nevertheless, I went downstairs to confront her face to face. Just as I stepped onto the landing, I smelled a familiar sweet smell. Cookies! Wait a second, Ma was baking cookies? But she stopped making them when- when my brother Adrian died. Ma used to make them all the time for him before he went to Afghanistan to fight in the war. We begged him not to go but he wouldn’t listen, and then, a few months later we got a phone call from the army, they told us that they found Adrian- with five bullets though the heart, a bottle in one hand, and a gun in the other. They told us that he committed suicide because of the horrors that he had seen, but since that day, my Ma vowed to never made cookies again, as a tribute to Adrian, but she also stopped loving us, me and Cara and Pa. Nowadays, she usually just sat by the window, as if waiting for Adrian to return. So her making cookies was very surprising. What was even more surprising was that when I opened the kitchen door I saw Ma dancing around to music on the radio in her lilac button-up dress and turquoise heels, with pink lipstick and lilac eye-shadow, her auburn hair bouncing on her head in a tight, high ponytail. This was so unlike her, she usually loafed around the house in her old, grey, moth-eaten dressing gown and slippers, smocking two packs of cigarettes a day, generally avoiding all human contact and definitely NOT dancing.
I knew that something was seriously wrong, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it, so I decided to approach the situation cautiously. “There y’ are Brooke.” Ma said in her strong Southern twang. “What are you doing?” I asked, even though I could see it perfectly well. “Oh, just makin’ some cookies darlin’.” She twittered, pirouetting towards the oven. “For who?” I persisted, getting closer to what I thought was the answer. “Just a guy.” Ma whistled, opening the oven to reveal a dozen golden-brown cookies. Oh, I knew what was going on now, she was having a breakdown, it happened once before and we had to call in the police and the ambulance; Ma thought that Adrian was still here and got a hold of Pa’s shotgun and threatened to shoot us down if we tried to lay a finger on ‘her boy’, in the end the doctors found a way to sedate her and told us that it was part of her depression, so she spent a month in the asylum to recover. “What guy Ma?” I asked her calmly, slowly making my way towards the phone on the wall in case this got nasty. “Mr. Piper.” she hummed as she scraped the cookies into a big dish. “Who’s Mr. Piper?” “The man that lives on top of the hill darlin’, don’t you remember, he’s Cara’s teacher.” Ma replied, a slight edge to her voice. “But Cara’s teacher is Mrs. Kerisson.” I said, getting ever closer to the phone. “Child what are you talking about?!” Ma suddenly screamed. “Ma? Ma what’s going on?” Cara cried, rushing into the room, corn pigtails flying. “Nothing sweetie, Brooke was just telling me that she’d love to come with you to Mr. Piper’s.” Ma said, transformed back into her disturbingly friendly state. “Fine,” I sighed “I give up!”. I didn't care any more about meeting Tiana, Eric, Luke, Tyrone and Nicko at the arcade; I had to find out more about this Mr. Piper guy.
So, I found myself walking up the Hill with Cara, who was holding a plate of cookies, towards the House. The House on the Hill was a place of nightmares in Haverdyke; like all creepy houses, it was old and dark and abandoned. Every Halloween, kids would dare each other to go inside It or graffiti something on Its walls; I did both about three years ago, but every time I heard screams on Halloween, I knew what caused them. For me, the House wasn't all that scary, I've seen worse, but for others, the House is a suburb of Hell itself, I didn't know why then, but now I do.
We arrived at the front gate of the House, it was a sad and decrepit thing, hanging by one hinge, lichen staining its ebony frame, a sudden gust of wind made it swing open and let out an eerie CREEEK. Cara though, unfazed by the gate skipped through the dead, dried up garden and pressed the doorbell.
The door creaked open and a tall man peered out. He had ageless features which would make one ponder whether he was thirty or three hundred years old, his dark hair was delicately combed behind his ears, so not a single hair touched his pale skin, his black suit summed up the look that my friend, Tiana, would call ‘classy’. “Ah, hello Miss Cara, I’ve been expecting you…” Mr. Piper said, in a deep British accent. He peered behind Cara at me, standing awkwardly at the gate. “And you must be Miss Brooke, I've heard a lot about you.” He said, his gooseberry eyes flickering. “Uhm, yeah, sure, nice to meet you too sir.” I mumbled, uncomfortable. “Sir! Sir! I brought cookies!” Cara squeaked thrusting the platter forth. “Oh, how kind, Cara, thank you. Now, please, enter.” Mr. Piper said his eyes locking with mine as Cara walked inside the House. “What do you mean enter?!” I demanded, suddenly angry. What did he think he was doing inviting my sister inside his house, what kind of creep does that?! “Calm yourself Miss Brooke; your parents know that Cara will stay a while, I'm her giving her extra lessons.” Mr. Piper said, as if he read my mind.
“Oh, all right then.” I said gruffly and walked away. I heard the door slam behind me. So, seeing as Cara was having private lessons and Ma and Pa had approved of them, I sloped off to the arcade.
Then, it struck me: how did my parents pay for the lessons? Pa’s salary as a farmer just about paid for the groceries and the rent, and Ma was unemployed, so… I ran back up the Hill at full speed, hurdled over the gate and slammed on the door; no answer. I ran around the House, looking for a possible entrance. Finally, I found the bedroom window, the blinds were drawn but the window was open, then I froze, I heard snuffling and grunting. I peered through a crack in the blinds, and what I saw, I’ll never forget: Mr. Piper, lying over my sister-or what was left of her, gorging on her heart, blood streaming down his chin, dripping down his shirt, covering his body.
I clamped my hand over my mouth to stop my screams bursting out, tears spilled down my cheeks and hatred and terror shot through my body. I leant on the wall to steady myself while I silently sobbed and cursed for leaving Cara alone with a stranger, for bringing her to the House and for not taking her home before it was too late. I snapped out of that emotional turmoil when I noticed a stirring in the blinds, he was staring at me! That sick monster was staring at me, his next prey!
I lurched away from the House and dashed home. I burst through the door and made for the living room, the TV was on, meaning that Pa was home, big, strong Pa who would skin a mouse if it even dared approach me, or Ma, or Cara. “Pa! Ma!” I screamed as I opened the door. “What is it honey-pot?” Pa asked and picked me up in his big strong arms. “Paul! Put her down, remember, we have visitors.” Ma growled. “Oh, don’t mind me Mrs. Brenner.” A crisp English voice said behind me. I turned around slowly, the whole room spinning with me; Mr. Piper was sitting on the couch his arms crossed over his lap and Cara, alive, smiling Cara was sitting next to him.
“Well Brooke, I'm glad you’re finally here. Mr. Piper was telling us what a nice girl you are and wondered if you could help him out with a camping trip he’s planning in Heverdyke woods.” Ma said, smiling again. “No!” I yelled backing out of the room. “NO! This can’t be happening!!!” I screamed, the darkness closing in on me. “NO!!!!!”
I woke up, an unfamiliar stench surrounding me. I opened my eyes, and saw them, children, many children, but not whole, some missing an arm, some a leg, but all a heart. This time I didn't even bother to restrain my screams, I just ran, around the corpses, but tripping over a piece of wood on the floor, I cursed briefly but continued running out of the door. Then, I stopped and checked my surroundings; the building I just exited was a shack, in front of me was a small makeshift fire and around me, was a forest, just forest, above me, under me, but the only good news was there was no sign of Mr. Piper. So I took the opportunity and ran through the bracken and brambles, thorns scraping my legs.
I kept on running until I reached a clearing, a clearing with a fire and a shack. But how- “I see that you discovered my little trick.” Mr. Piper sniggered from behind me. I was done with his mind games, this had to end now, I wanted the truth. “Can you handle the truth?” Mr. Piper asked behind me. “So you can read my mind now can you? What are you?” I asked through gritted teeth. “You know very well what I am, you've been told stories about me and my kind.” Mr. Piper sniggered. “Let me help you, somewhere around here is the clue.” Immediately, my eyes started to skim the forest floor for the item. “Foolish child, maybe you’re not the one in the end, maybe you should go join the others in the shack.” Join the others… in the shack! The piece of wood in the shack! That was it!
I threw open the door of the shack, ignoring the foul stench and the rotting corpses. I searched for a while but then I found it, through Cara’s skull. “Why are you doing this?” I asked biting my lip. “Because I have to.” Mr. Piper answered, for the first time sounding vulnerable. “But WHY?!” I yelled through sobs. “I need you to help me.” Mr. Piper said forlornly. “What will you do for me if I promise to help you?” I asked desperate for this to end. “I’ll bring Cara back to life and return everything back to normal, I promise.” “Fine, what do I have to do?” “Just give me the object.” “All right.” I sighed. “I'm sorry Cara.” I whispered to the lifeless form of my sister and then wrenched what looked like a wooden tube from her cold, rotting head.
I turned around to face Mr. Piper. “Here.” I said and offered him the tube. “Thank you.” The weak form of Mr. Piper said, then, his face contorted into a demonic grin. “This was simpler than I thought.” He sniggered. “What did you do?!” I yelled, realizing that he tricked me. “You see Brooke, I am The Piper.” “Who-” “But you may know me better as the Pied Piper of Hamlin, the one who led the rats away, the one who stole the children.” “But you’re just a myth, a pointless legend!” “No Brooke, I am history.” Piper exclaimed, his body starting to morph. “So, Piper, if you’re history why do you need me?” I demanded. “Well, as you know, it is physically impossible for a human body to survive for over one hundred years, though eating fresh young hearts helps, so my predecessor had to find a host that would wilfully agree to be possessed.” Piper explained, advancing towards me his body contorting with every step. “Who would wilfully give up their body to some creep?” “There are many ways Brooke, all the victim needs is to do is to touch the Pipe.” I realized what I’d done. “Oh no.” “Oh yes!” Screeched the Piper and leaped out of its old flesh and into mine. What I felt after that was indescribable, the pain, the shrieks, the suffering, but all that was worth it now, I am the Piper, I stalk the nights in order to find a new town to enchant and new souls to harvest, and just one question before I go: have you ever heard of North Haverdyke? Well you won’t any more…