In the stillness of midnight, two burly men forced their way into that same house.
"Woof! Woof! Woof!"
A guard dog's bark shattered the hush, making both intruders freeze.
"Damn it, shut up!" one man hissed, shooting a nervous glance around them.
They searched for the source of the barking—a coal-black dog, tail stiff, barking aggressively at them, eyes shining with hostility.
The other man grumbled, "This mutt's a pain. Should we just deal with it right now?"
"Don't make a racket, or the whole house'll wake," his partner growled. "Better to lure it away."
Taking a lump of raw meat from his pocket, he tossed it into the yard. The dog, sniffing warily, stopped barking and followed the tantalizing scent, taking the bait. Once it started eating, the intruders grinned in triumph and returned to prying open the house's main door. At last, they succeeded, slipping inside quietly.
Their plan was simple: grab every valuable item they could find. But as they rummaged, a faint noise alerted the household's daughter. Downstairs she came, wearing a pure white nightgown, a candlestick in hand. The moment she saw these two strangers, she recognized the danger and started to cry out for help. She managed only the slightest squeak before one intruder lunged, clamping a hand over her mouth and pressing a large knife to her throat.
"Make a sound and you die," the man growled roughly.
Her body went rigid, eyes wide in terror as the cold blade glinted at her neck. She didn't dare move or utter a word.
Meanwhile, the second intruder continued rifling through drawers and cupboards for loot. The one restraining her gave a leering grin, letting his grubby hands rove over her body in a vile manner, filling her with revulsion and helplessness. She struggled vainly, tears of shame and hopelessness seeping down her cheeks.
Suddenly, a voice from upstairs broke the hush. "Is someone down there?" It was her mother's voice, drifting down the steps.
Both men glanced toward the stairs, spotting an older woman descending.
"Mother, no!" the daughter cried—but it was too late.
The other thief sprinted up the steps, aiming to seize the older woman.
"Pant… pant…" The black dog returned, hearing the commotion. Its fierce barking resumed as it hurled itself at the nearest intruder.
"Argh! Crazy dog!" the man howled, frantically thrashing his arm, trying to fling off the animal.
But the dog held on fast, jaws locked onto the intruder's forearm. Its sharp fangs buried deep.
In that moment of chaos, the daughter seized her chance, smashing the candlestick into her captor's face with all her strength. She broke free and dashed for the stairs—unfortunately, in the opposite direction of the thieves.
"Oww!" the man snarled, stumbling backward.
His large knife, wrenched from his grip, tore into the black dog instead. The beast yelped in agony. The man threw it aside, the poor creature hitting the floor with a final whimper, then lying still.
Anger clouded the intruder's mind, hot wax stinging his eyes. With a furious roar, he raced after the young woman, grabbing a fistful of her hair. Then he… struck.
Blood sprayed bright red across the floor. The girl's head parted from her shoulders, eyes wide with shock.
"Nooooo!" her mother shrieked, voice cracking with horror.
The older woman witnessed this horror with disbelieving eyes and screamed anew, her mind shattering at the sight.
That raw, tortured scream rang through the house. It roused another young woman who had been asleep on the upper floor.
"Mother! What happened?" she called, barreling down the stairs.
But the scene greeting her froze her in place, eyes locked wide as her blood turned to ice.
One intruder stood there, chest heaving, brandishing a blood-smeared knife, the severed head of her sister dangling from his other hand.
She loosed a piercing wail of pure despair.
Both men whirled around and lunged at the newly arrived daughter.
Snapped back to her senses, the older woman found just enough presence of mind to shout, "Run! Run!" She turned to flee.
Mother and daughter bolted upstairs, and the two men charged after them. The thunder of footsteps echoed through the house, until they disappeared beyond view. Clashes and a splintering of doors resounded along with chilling screams, only to fade into silence.
The High Commander, caught up in the swirling visions of the past, observed as though standing in the house while these events played out—but he did not go upstairs. From below, this was all he could witness.
Eventually, the pair of thieves reappeared, racing down the stairs, faces stark white and smeared in blood. They made it as far as the ground-floor hall before halting, as if ensnared by invisible cords. They flailed in terror, arms and legs slowly twisting at unnatural angles, bones crackling in hideous contortions.
"Aaargh!" Their screams filled the space, echoing unearthly. Their own distorted limbs stabbed into each other's torsos, blood pouring onto the floor. Flesh tore, bones splintered, and their howls reverberated through the house.
Through his retrospective sight, the High Commander saw the younger daughter descend from above, floating inches off the ground, swathed in blood-red sinews that lifted her like marionette strings. Her face glistened with tears. Behind her, her mother—head attached to her body with similar scarlet threads—followed with dead, empty eyes.
Then, the older sister's corpse began to move. Clumsy as a puppet, the severed head rose from the ground and affixed itself to the woman's body, ropes of congealed blood weaving around her neck. The thieves writhed in horror, desperation wracking them as their torsos were methodically stabbed by their own twisted fingers. They howled for mercy, but the young woman in midair gazed on with numb cruelty, unmoved by their pleas.
Suddenly, a knock at the front door. A young man's voice: "Hello? Is anybody in there? I heard screams. Is everything all right?"
For a moment, the red threads around the daughter twitched, reflecting her unease.
"It's fine," she answered softly, no sign of motion. "Everything's… fine."
"Are you sure?" the young man insisted, alarmed. "It sounded really bad. I'm worried—"
"I only had a nightmare," she cut in. "That's all."
"But—" he tried again.
"Go away!" she snapped. "I… I'm not in any shape to entertain visitors."
There was a pause, then the sound of footsteps retreating. She turned her attention back to the two intruders, who still moaned in agony, locked in their gruesome torment. Unbeknownst to them, the house was sealed off from the outside world. Their cries would never escape.
Glancing at the lifeless dog's body, she watched as it rose from the floor. Red sinews wrapped around its wounds, patching the slashes made by the knife.
"Mother… Sister…" she whispered in a dull monotone. "Let's go back upstairs."
The older woman's corpse, reanimated through the same scarlet cords, started climbing the staircase. Her eyes were vacant, incapable of feeling. The black dog followed, drawn to its mistress, tail stiff, jaws half open even in death.
Together they vanished upstairs, the girl humming that haunting lullaby with its childlike tune that rang hollow in the monstrous hush. The thieves were left below, contorting in unspeakable pain, bodies warped beyond recognition. Their wails soon became feeble whimpers in an echo chamber of misery.
Then, as though no tragedy had unfolded, silence returned to the house.
The High Commander withdrew from the final vestiges of the vision, the swirl of memories dissolving into darkness. Only the pungent tang of dried blood and gloom remained. He surveyed the room, noticing two corpses on the floor—male bodies, twisted and rigid.
Step by cautious step, he approached. Each corpse showed unnatural disfigurement, dried blood caked on ruptured flesh, bullet holes marking their heads. Their expressions, etched in eternal agony, matched precisely the criminals he had witnessed in the memory. The High Commander scowled in deep reflection.
Madam Esther, who had also arrived to examine the scene, stood by his side. She stared at the bodies with a grim set to her features. The High Commander did not speak; he silently wished Edward were here to broadcast telepathic messages. Communication would be far simpler.
Catching Madam Esther's eye, the High Commander raised a finger to his lips, motioning for quiet. Then he gestured to the stairs, indicating he was going up.
She nodded. Together, they turned from the thieves' remains and proceeded up the staircase into the dark unknown.