The Slash Of Truth: The Whispers From Under The Bed

129#

23:32pm.

Fruit Family Household.

Dear Diary.

I can’t sleep. Despite Helly’s enticing suggestion to get in bed with her, I can’t after what happened last night. I want to sleep, I need to sleep but, I can’t. I’m at my desk, writing in my diary as I look over the sleeping form of my wife, wondering if she is next to be taken under his nose. I won’t let that happen, not while I’m still awake. I’ve got my coffee machine plugged in, a fresh cup of it next to me. Hopefully, this will keep me up all night, keeping my mind busy writing in this diary.

During lunch when Detective Shepard, Clutch, and Dime came back and finally saw Fenton for what felt like the first time today, things seemed normal oddly enough. Fenton had an odd interest in me when he found out I was a part of the Fruit family, asking me personal questions like what my mother’s name was, where he came from, what he knew about the Fruit Family Household, Tangerine’s history. It was awfully strange that a brat like him would be interested in my family’s past. Now that I think about it, how does he know Tangerine? I know it wouldn’t be hard considering Fenton lives in his mansion but, Fenton doesn’t look like the kid to do his research on this house. I could be wrong, I could be just overreacting, he might actually have an interest in the rich history of the Fruit family. It wasn’t suspicious but, it was odd.

As for Detective Shepard, he looked worried, skittish about something as he looked over to Clutch as few times, confliction? Guilt? Sadness? He didn’t look like himself. I would have gone over to him but, as I said, I’m trying to keep a low profile on my own investigation of them. I would have looked suspicious if I pulled him to the side. I’ll just keep an eye on him.

Dime wasn’t all too happy when she got in either. Turns out, she had lost the case as her client (David) was convicted of murder and sentenced to 23 years. It’s amazing how a lawyer’s mood is determined by if they win or lose a case, it doesn’t matter if their guilty or innocent, just as long as they win and get their respected pay, so it amazed me how a woman such as Dime can get so pissed off by a missing knife, I mean, it’s just a knife. I guess it’s true what they say. A great lawyer is one with no heart.

Unlike the rest that came home miserable, Clutch came back home chipper as apparently, his employees had broken the companies record of selling cars in a day, making him that little bit richer. I find it ironic that is son is missing and there he is, smiling like a kid with sweets. Honestly, I would have loved to soccer punch him in the face, and I would of but, I knew I would be in an arm bar again by the detective and trust me, I wouldn’t wish her arm bars on my worst enemy.

A few hours ago, after lunch, I worked more on the riddles in the library. I swear, it was like walking into a different era when I walked in, the books of old, their own brand of quietness, riddling with cobwebs with year’s old spiders shrivelled up in them. The library hasn’t been touched in years as dust piled up on one another, the creaking floorboards and the lack of technology in this room. It baffles me how such a rich family have neglected such a gold mine. Tangerine Fruit is legendary for his tales of his adventures, his discoveries of the ancient past and relics that resembled history. Everything he experienced, every dangerous tomb, and every life that was lost in his travels was jotted down in books, books that are all around me. This is worth more than any amount of cash I am given.

As tempting as staying there all day and night, I had riddles to finish off. Now, I’m not great at numbers myself and these last two were a pain in my ass. I would have asked for help but, I admit, I’m prideful and I always want to do things by myself so, I let my overcharged brain cool off a bit and I started to explore the library. In my wandering around the library, I did find it odd that in my minutes of roaming the lanes of bookshelves, there was only one table and a chair in the entire room. There was a book that was dusty, and my heart skipped a beat at what it was. It was Tangerine’s diary. I swear, I don’t squeal like a little girl often but, I had to make an exception for that moment.

In his diary, he went more in-depth about his feelings and thoughts during his adventures. He even confirmed the prices he got from selling certain artefacts to museums and wealthy families across the world. You could say I was blushing with envy at the millions he had collected across the years. What did catch my attention was when he talked about his family. He talked about his wife, his two daughters and his son in many of his pages. Tangerine writes how he had fallen in love with a striped woman (Zorku) on his adventures, he talked about how she was struggling to survive in Zebrica. Her tribe was slowly dying out as they were being constantly attacked by hostile tribes that put fear in the hearts of many. So, he took Zorku with him, back home.

Tangerine knew the population of Equestria, his noble family and friends would disapprove of the equestrian and zebra relation going further beyond friends so, he planned to hide them away, build up a mansion in the middle of The Goodison Forest, deep enough so that no one will find them. After months of him and his team building it, he tipped the construction firm extra to keep the build private. They called their new home The Fruit Family Household.

After 5 years of adventuring and taking care of his now-wedded wife, Tangerine had settled down with his wife, his two daughters and his son. It was his time to retire from his journeys and live the rest of his life with his family. His daughter’s names are Sunny Fruit and Strawberry Fruit, they were both unicorns and both twins, being the eldest to their youngest brother, Zoro. He was a zebra with

Arctic jolted awake, a strand of drool hanging from his lip as he raised his head from his desk in a daze. What happened? Where was he? Wait… He slept! He nearly snapped his neck at the pace he looked over at the bed, seeing the bulge form of his wife in the quilt. He sighed deeply, never being more thankful to see his wife in all his life. He slept, he put his wife at risk by sleeping, Arctic promised himself that he wasn’t going to sleep. Instinctively, his hand reached for the cold cup of coffee, drinking it all in one go despite the bitter coldness. Gasping after the icy coffee, Arctic brought his arm around to check his watch but, he couldn’t see thanks to the lack of light. Reaching into his pocket for his phone, he pulled it out and pressed the home button, see that the time was… 23:35pm? Squinting in confusion, he turned his phone around and shined the light on his diary, seeing the time he the wrote when he started writing in his diary. 23:32pm… Did he really sleep for a few minutes? If that’s the case… What woke him up? Looking back to his phone, he also got a few notifications on his lock screen.

There were notifications from his cameras informing him that movement was seen. Arctic’s brow raised. Typing in his password, he went straight to the app that controls the cameras and records movement from the start till the end. He clicked on the tab with three new recordings labelled above each one and one more recording that is pending. He clicked on the first video, turning his phone into landscape mode to see much better.

The first video was recorded upstairs in in the west corridor where four doors were in plain sight, two on each side of the two walls opposite each other, perfectly symmetrical with paintings for ornaments. The video itself is minor, just Clutch heading to the bathroom to do his business. The second video being him just leaving the bathroom and back in his room. But the third video… The third video confused him greatly. It was 5 seconds of the recording bugging out in the south corridor upstairs where Cherry’s room was. Was the camera glitching? Has someone tampered with it? Other than the slight static, nothing happened, nothing he could see anyway. No movement, no signs of life, just 5 seconds of static. Arctic had to check this out for himself. Getting up from his desk quietly, he turned towards the door that was slightly open… Open? Arctic was sure he had closed the door. He knew it couldn’t have been Helly since she’s a heavy sleeper and if she needs the bathroom, she could have gone to this room’s bathroom. Unless… The reason he woke up was by the door creaking open.

Someone was about to enter.

Slowly, he reached for his pistol that was next to the coffee cup without his eyes leaving the open door. As he approached it with awareness, his phone buzzed in his hand as a new notification popped up. It was the pending recording. Halting in his step, he quickly checked out who he was dealing with. When the video started in the east corridor, where his and Helly’s door room was seen, he was confused when he saw nothing again. The video was fine, with no static but, the door opened by itself. It baffled Arctic so much because his room’s door swung outwards and the windows in his room were shut so—how did his door open?

Weirded out by the video, he shrugged it off for now as he continued to walk to the door. Opening the door warily, he stepped out and scanned his surroundings, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he continued to the south upstairs hallway camera to see what was bugging it. When he saw it, it looked fine to him. He checked his phone again, connecting his phone to the camera. Watching the live feed and it turns out, the camera is now fine, seeing himself clearly through the camera as he looked at himself, looking down at his phone. Arctic squinted in confusion. What the hell is going on? Suddenly, a chill ran up Arctic’s spine as a door creaked open behind him and it wasn’t just any door, it was to Cherry’s room. Arctic slowly turned with his gun raised, his hand shaky as he walked forward, leaving his phone on the floor for anyone to pick up if he doesn’t come back out of the room.

He pushed the door wide, his heart racing as he stepped inside. The room was in the same state it was when Cherry was taken, splinters and chunks of wood everywhere, the blanket on the floor, the desk dishevelled, windows still locked, nothing has changed the last time Arctic barged in to see Cherry missing but… Something felt off, that same feeling when he first walked into this mansion but, it was stronger, it was cold, it was eerily drowning, what was this feeling? Was someone watching him? Then… he saw it. Under the side of the bed, a valley’s river of blood oozed out, breaking away into little streams that filled the gaps in the planks. Arctic could only freeze up in fear as he could hear faint muttering, the same demonic, distorted muttering he had in his dream last night.

Stop him~

Save him~

He has her~

Arctic’s mouth dropped with a blighted look, watching a small hand reach from under the bed, crimson matting its white and black, blistered skin, the rotten flesh carved off, bone visible and the index finger missing as blood squirted out.

The riddles~

Solve them~

Find her~

Leave~

Arctic couldn’t stop shaking in fear as another hand raised from the darkness under the bed. It pulled itself leisurely, hearing it slide across the floor. As Arctic stepped back, he lost balance of his footing and fell to the ground, his eyes wide and he couldn’t process what he was seeing as a form started to show. His heart dropped at the sight of a dismantled face, riddled with burns and the black eye socket and the other being a bloodshot red eye stared back with as much fear as Arctic had.

Shasha is coming~

“S-shasha?” Arctic stuttered, feeling a cold sweat on his skin.

He’s here~

And just like that, the boy screamed as a force dragged the eyeless boy back into the void that was under the bed, making Arctic jump up and for his heart to skyrocket as the gargling cries rang in his ear with each second that passed. Arctic didn’t have time to ask any questions as his whole body swivelled around rapidly, the door behind him slamming shut. When he turned, his whole body stiffened as in front of him was something of nightmares. It was a tall black figure, looking at eye level at Arctic in the shadow of his top hat. The intimidating figure loomed over him, a glimmer of a knife in the behemoth’s grasp. Arctic couldn’t move as it stepped forward, his gun trembling in his hand. He didn’t know why he hasn’t fired his pistol but, none of that mattered as with one swift movement of the giant’s arm, the knife was plunged deep into his gut. Arctic couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, move or feel as he slowly looked down at the blood-covered knife plunged into his stomach from the hilt. He felt his legs give out as he went to one knee, the knife being forcefully pulled out as he gone down.

His breathing turned to wheezers, feeling the blood splurge onto his hand as he covered the massive hole in his belly. He felt so cold, so weak as he fell backwards, flat on his back, looking up at the shadowy figure that only looked back down shamelessly at him, it was getting hard to breathe as he felt his body weaken as more and more blood poured out. The last thing he felt was his muscles relaxing, his vision going in and out of blur, a tear running down his cheek as he realised that he was going to die. Slowly, life left his body as his whole world turned to darkness.

Arctic was killed…

Then he woke up in a sweat…