Down in the basement of 1428 Elm Street, Loretta Krueger stood next to the rumbling dryer, a magazine in hand as she waited for the final load of laundry to finish. It had been a slow day, as most Sundays were. Fred and Kathryn were outside in the back yard playing tag, and she could hear the joyous laughter of the two through the open window. She'd promised to go join them when the laundry was done, a promise she knew Kathryn would hold her to no matter what.
Right before the dryer buzzed, signaling that it'd done its duty, Loretta noticed something… off. Not quite strange, but enough to catch her attention. Something she hadn't noticed before.
At the foot of the stairs, there was a door to a storage room. They never found a use for it, so it was often locked up. Every so often they'd bring something down, but not recently. She wasn't sure how she hadn't noticed it earlier, but the padlock was off. Fred must've brought something down and forgot to lock up, that was it.
Setting her magazine down, Loretta crossed the basement and scanned the area surrounding the door for the padlock. She silently cursed, making a mental note to remind Fred to pick up a new one at the hardware store later. Returning to the dryer, she began filling up the clothes basket with the finished load, although she quickly found herself overcome by a strange, unexplainable curiosity.
Just a quick look. That was all, just to quell the nagging in her head to investigate.
Her hand froze on the knob. Why was she hesitating? It was just a storage room. Regardless, a lingering sensation of dread spread throughout, fearing for what might be behind the door.
Shaking her head, Loretta scolded herself for thinking such foolish thoughts. What could possibly be back there? All doubt erased from her mind, she turned the knob and slowly opened the door, only to immediately regret it.
Everything they had put into storage had been piled up in the corner to make room for the most grotesque assortment of items she'd ever seen in her life. Wicked blades dangled from racks nailed to the walls, and a plethora of seemingly custom made weapons, mostly gloves with various knives fitted onto the fingertips, sat in neat rows on the shelf off to the corner. A corkboard above a workbench featured news clippings detailing the recent cases of missing children, dating back to the very first story published a month ago.
The connection had already been made in her head, but she didn't want to believe it. Fred couldn't be behind the missing children, he just couldn't! There had to be an explanation, something that proved her wrong.
On the workbench, there was an old book with a worn jacket entitled 'Memories'. At that point, Loretta wanted nothing more than to leave. She wanted to grab Kathryn, load her up into the car, and leave. Where would they go? It didn't matter. Anywhere. She knew that staying any longer would be dangerous, but she couldn't help herself. Her hand trembling, she opened the book.
The first few pages seemed to be journal entries. Fred evidently wasn't fond of the neighbors. Their happiness stirred up feelings of hatred and jealousy, although what for was a mystery. Come to think of it, Fred never once talked about his childhood and became extremely irritable whenever she brought it up.
The rest of the book horrified her to no end, being nothing but photos of the missing children glued to the pages with hastily scribbled annotations next to each one.
Boring.
Cried for God.
Tried to fight back.
Mouthy little bitch.
"Loretta? Still down there? Kathryn wants to get our three-man tag game going!"
She yelped in surprise and tossed the book back onto the bench, pure and abject terror coursing through her. Heavy footsteps came down the stairs, pausing halfway down. Sweating profusely, she grabbed one of the knives from the racks, fumbling with the hilt. Her heart was beating in her throat, seemingly trying to claw its way out of her body. Following a dark chuckle, the footsteps continued until her husband stood at the landing. Leaning against the doorframe, Fred locked eyes with Loretta with his hands clasped together, a predatory smile on his face. This wasn't the man she had married, not at all. Which one was the real Fred, though? Maybe the man she married was nothing more than a façade to hide this… monster.
"I guess I forgot to lock up last night," he said, his voice low. "Looks like you noticed. Couldn't help but sneak a peek, could you?"
"G-get away from me!" Loretta screamed, brandishing the knife at him. His eyes widening in mock horror, Fred took a few steps into the room, admiring the contents of the shelves, almost as if he was proud of his handiwork. It went without saying that he was. "I mean it, I'll… I'll-"
"You'll what? Take a knife to me?" Fred laughed, turning his attention to her. "Go ahead and try. I always liked a little foreplay, but let's keep it quiet, huh? Kathryn might hear."
Resentment bubbled inside Loretta after he mentioned Kathryn. How dare he bring her up? In his eyes, Kathryn was probably nothing but another victim, one he'd been saving for last. Every ounce of terror she once felt had made way for disgust. Fred noticed this, and all it did was widen his grin. He took a sick, perverse pleasure in her hatred.
"Tell you what. You forget everything you saw in here… and we can go back to living our lives as usual. Deal?" She shook her head in defiance. Nothing could ever convince her to turn a blind eye to the fact that her husband was a child killer, especially with Kathryn. How much longer would it be until he decided it was her turn?
Without another word, Fred lunged across the room, knocking her back into the bench. Loretta's tailbone exploded in pain as she dropped the knife. It clattered to the ground as he pushed her down, his hands closing around her neck, squeezing with tremendous strength. She tried to fight him off but to no avail, her fists pounding uselessly off of his neck, face, and shoulders. All her squirming did was force him to begin throttling her, the bench buckling each time her head forcefully collided with it.
In a few short moments, Loretta's body went limp.
"Mommy!" came from behind Fred. Kathryn, obviously fed up with waiting for her parents, had ventured inside to collect them herself. What she didn't expect to find, however, was her father standing over her mother, lifelessly lying on a workbench in a room she didn't even know existed.
Letting go of Loretta's neck, Fred joined Kathryn at the landing, lowering himself into a crouch to see her eye to eye. Tears were streaming down her face, and she was uncontrollably sobbing. Wiping away a tear with the same hands that had killed her mother, Fred shot her a comforting smile.
"Hey now, cheer up. Mommy just needed some medicine, okay?" he said, frowning as Kathryn backed away from him. "She needs to go away now, so it'll just be the two of us from now on. How does that sound?"
No response. Kathryn stood immobile, unsure of what to do or think. All she knew was that she was scared. She feared that if she did anything beyond stand completely still, her father would hurt her too.
"You're not going to tell anyone about this, are you?" Fred asked, his tone and expression darkening. Almost immediately, Kathryn shook her head. He then pulled her into a hug, caressing the back of her head and running his fingers along her spine, coaxing a shiver in response.
"Of course you won't. You're Daddy's little girl, after all.
Now… go get ready for dinner. Daddy needs to clean up Mommy's mess."