THAT

 

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How It All Started

2014


  Ice cream. That’s the hot topic every summer to kids.  Whenever the music rips through the air, almost like a lullaby to the little kids, they all come running. But they don't know. They don't know about THAT. They only know when it's too late.


That's what happens around here. The town of Denver is known for the constantly disappearing kids. But nobody knows why. Well, nobody that can tell the police who it is.  We all know that the kids who know are gone.  They disappeared.




The ice cream truck speeds down the road, jumping over the raised manholes; tinted windows and a colorful menu of ice cream flavors pasted over the side of the truck. The truck has always had a weird shade of dark red over the front of the truck, but it has faded over time, not being a big deal to anybody. All the kids run over to it, excited, clueless about their terrible fate. Even though ice cream trucks make their stops in the summer, the kids of Denver don't make a big deal about it coming in the fall. Who are they to complain? 



“Travis! Why can’t you come out with me?”  Tommy begged, clutching his faded soccer ball in his hand. Being a hyper six year old, all Tommy wanted was somebody to play with all day long. “Just for five minutes?” He looked up at his older brother with wide, begging eyes.


Travis shook his head, annoyed. He was eleven years old; always wanting to do his own thing instead of constantly playing with his little brother. “Go find some kids or something, play with them.”


Tommy looked down at the floor, upset. “I don’t like playing with the other kids,” he whined, then looked back up at his  brother with hope. “Why not two minutes?!”


“Then go play with your shadow or something,” Travis spat out at his little brother. “It’s way too rainy out there.” 


“For thirty seconds?” Tommy was still at it begging, not wanting to give it up. “Or fifteen seconds?” 


Travis laughed at his little brother, amused. He reached down and messed up his little brother's hair. Tommy had a shade of light gold brown colored hair, like their father who didn't live with them any longer.  Their parents were constantly arguing so they got divorced. Their father now lives in Las Vegas with his new girlfriend. He never really checks in with them. Travis had a shade of dark brown hair which was parted to the side; similar to the color of his mother's hair. “By the time we walk outside, thirty seconds will be up.” 


“Not-uh!” Tommy shook his head, flattening his hair back down, holding the soccer ball in his left arm. “Not if we hurry!” 


Travis bent down next to his little brother on the dark grey carpet of the small-sized living room. “Why don’t you play in the backyard? Under the awning? So you don't get wet.” 


Tommy thought a minute, taking in what his brother was suggesting to him. Finally, he shook his head. “But then there will be no puddles to jump into!” 


Travis stood up, sighing. “Go get your rain stuff, Tommy. Don’t stay out for a long time.” 


“So you can’t come?” Tommy asked one last time, looking up at his older brother with puppy eyes. 


“I don’t want to get sick again out there.” Travis told his little brother calmly. The week before, Travis had been sick with a very high fever. He even missed school for a week; it wasn't that he minded or anything though. School wasn’t a big deal to Travis. He just despised getting sick. 


“Okay.” Tommy replied with no emotion, walking to the cellar to get his rain stuff. His rain jacket was hanging up just next to the basement door, so he didn’t have to go downstairs. Tommy hated going down into the cellar. He would always hear a taunting music, kind of a twisted music of a children’s music. After that, he’d feel like somebody was watching him. Rather, someTHING. He knew it was there. He didn't believe his brother or his mother when they told him multiple times that it was just his imagination. 


He reached over and grabbed his bright yellow rain boots and his bright yellow rain jacket and slammed the door shut, nearly making all the paintings that were hanging up on the wall come crashing down.


“Tommy!” His mother shrieked from her room. She was sick, just like Travis was last week. She probably picked it up from her son. “No slamming doors!”


He didn't mean to slam the door, that's just the way it happened. “Sorry!” he shouted back, running to put his rain boots on. He then slipped on his rain jacket, zipped it up and put the hood up. Tommy bent down and picked up his soccer ball, all ready to play.


“Be careful, Tommy.” Travis warned, worried for his little brother even though he was a pain  sometimes. “Stay out of the middle of the road, you know our rode gets busy sometimes.” 


“I know!” Tommy darted for the front door, not even listening. “Bye Travis!”


Tommy was out and about before Travis could even give him a goodbye hug. As Travis was left standing in the middle of the living room, a chill went down his back thinking about if that was the last time he'd ever see his brother. The news story from three years ago filled his head. That one story in particular about the nine-year old girl, Ruby, in Denver that mysterious disappeared one day. It was a day in October, just like it was today. She went out to play alone and was never seen again. The town put posters up all over so they could find her, but it was no use. Nobody ever knew what had happened to her. It haunted her family for years, and it still did to this day.


Stop scaring yourself, Travis thought to himself, shaking his head. He’ll be fine. Tons of kids are probably playing in the rain today.


Just then, his mother called, breaking his thoughts like a piece of glass.


“Travis! Could you get me a glass of water and the Robitussin from the kitchen?” she had a coughing fit right after that. 


Travis swallowed, still worrying. “Yeah, coming mom!”

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How It All Started [2]

Tommy smiled to himself, excited about all the options of what he could do. He could stomp in the puddles, he could walk on the curbs and try to balance, he could run after his ball down the hill at the end of the street; he just couldn’t decide.


Travis told me not to go in the middle of the road, Tommy thought, clutching his soccer ball in both hands tightly. But it’s a rainy day, nobody’s even on the road now.


Tommy smiled to himself, now confident that he’d be safe on the road. He ran down the steep set of steps in front of his house, not paying attention to where he put his feet. 


The weather wasn’t freezing, but it wasn’t hot either. It was October 12th, almost into mid-October. The cool autumn breeze whipped itself at Tommy suddenly. Tommy tried clutching the railing, but his soccer ball he had been holding came loose from his hands, throwing itself in front of him. Tommy slipped on the fresh puddle of rain that was deeper than he thought it would be. He fell down, violently hitting his  hands on the  last rough concrete step. 


Tommy cried out in pain. He had barely missed hitting his head and flipping over down the last few steps. Trying to catch his breath, Tommy stood up slowly, shaking.


My hands… he thought, trying not to cry. He wanted to turn back up the steps and run inside. He then looked up slowly. My ball… 


“No!” Tommy cried out, wiping his bloody, scraped hands on his bright yellow rain jacket. It was washable anyway. 


His soccer ball was rolling into the middle of the road where any car could just smash into it, popping it. That was Tommy’s only soccer ball, he didn’t want to lose it.


Without looking both ways like his mother would always tell him, he ran out into the street, stomping into puddles and sending water flying up in numerous different directions. 


Tommy ran faster toward his ball which was still moving. Rain splattered down on top of him and the world around him, blocking out the noise of the vechile that was coming up from the hill. The hill at the end of the road. It wasn’t visable because of how low the hill goes. 


Tommy picked up his ball and stood up slowly, catching his breath. I’m okay, he told himself slowly. My ball’s okay. I’m going to go home now. 


Well, that’s what he wanted to do. That’s what Tommy’s plan was. But everything doesn’t always go your way, does it?

 

That’s right. It doesn’t.


A soft music filled the air. It sounded almost like the sound of a children’s lullaby, but a little different. Tommy smiled. The song seemed to make him happy. He turned toward where the sound was coming from, but his smile quickly turned into a gasp when he realized what was going on.


An ice cream truck. It was much bigger than little Tommy was; and it was going at least thirty miles per hour, coming down the road. 


Tommy closed his eyes, lurching to the side and letting out a little scream. Lucky for him, the truck made a high pitched screetching sound, hauling to a stop.


How many times am I going to be close to getting hurt? Tommy thought to himself. Today isn’t Friday the 13th, is it? 


He remembered his older brother talking about Friday the 13th, which was tomorrow. But not today.


The ice cream gently went into Tommy’s ears, causing him to smile again. He forgave the driver of the ice cream truck; as long as they gave him ice cream. 


He walked over to the ice cream truck which was stopped in the middle of the road. Flavors of different ice creams, popcicles and more frozen desserts were pasted on the side of the truck with the window, where Tommy was standing next to. It was like a piece of art to Tommy, nothing like all the boring adult art that all the parents seemed to enjoy. 


Tommy thought back to all the other ice cream trucks he had seen. All of them had transparent windows, windows you could see right through. But this one didn’t. And all of the ice cream trucks Tommy and Travis got ice cream from always came during the summer. But it’s October now. Autumn. So why is there an ice cream truck now?


Despite all of the questions he had, Tommy just shrugged. At least it was an ice cream truck. An ice cream truck to cheer him up on a rainy day.


Tommy began to read all of the different flavors that were on the side of the truck, interested. Most of them were oddly faded; but the good thing was, there were no prices by them. Just lists of flavors.


That means they’re free? Tommy asked himself. I’ll just ask the guy inside. 


The window was barely reachable to Tommy, his head went up about an inch or two above the where the window opened. He had to stand on his tippy toes to  see inside.


“Hello?” Tommy inquired, slowly and quietly. He started knocking on the tinted black window when suddenly it opened faster than anything Tommy ever saw before.


“Wow…” Tommy smiled, amazed. He then tried to look inside the van, where the driver’s seat was. He could see it very clearly, but it was too dark to really see around. He leaned over a little bit and started calling again. “H-How much are ice cream cones?” He tried, now asking his question. 


Tommy was left speechless when he realized that there was nobody sitting in the driver’s seat. Nobody. So how could’ve the truck been driving?


Tommy put his soccer ball under his arm and grabbed onto the ledge in front of the window of the truck, trying to pull himself up. He scanned around the van, his eyes adjusting to the blackness when suddenly a face popped out from the darkness. 


Tommy backed away, nearly falling backwards. His soccer ball fell into the window, clashing to the floor. Tommy backed away slowly, scared. 


He could see the yellow glowing eyes before he saw anything else. They seemed to be staring right into his soul. He just couldn’t look away from it.


“Hi little Tommy! Why do you look so frightened?” It was a clown. He had white makeup,  blue diamonds around his eyes, and red lips turning into a wide smile. “Don’t you want ice cream?” 


Tommy just shook his head, feeling scared. Should I run? Or should I stay? He was torn between two options. He didn’t want to leave his soccer ball behind. He had been saving up for so long to buy it. “N-No, thank you. I just want my  ball back.” Tommy was trying to be as nice as possible just in case this clown was some kind of psycho that would kill him.


“Your ball?!” the clown looked shocked. He didn’t even lean down or anything to pick it up. He just slowly lifted one arm up and there his soccer ball was, right up in the open. “Is this the ball you’re talking about?” 


Tommy just nodded without a word. 


The clown smiled widely at him, showing bright white teeth. “Oh, well why don’t we play with it for a while? Before you go home!” 


Tommy was speechless. He was too frightened to  speak.


“The only way you’ll get ice cream is if you take your ball, Tommy.” the clown exclaimed, staring straight at Tommy.


How does he know my name? A million thoughts were racing through Tommy’s mind. “Who are y-you?” 


The clown let out a high-pitched cackle, one that left Tommy with goosebumps. “You talk about me like I’m a stranger.”


“You are.” Tommy replied slowly, keeping his eyes on the clown. If he got too close, he’d make a run for it.


The clown froze and frowned at him. The darkness lit up the clown’s face, making it look menacing. “Well, I’m…” the clown thought for a minute, his eyes wandering away from Tommy. He then suddenly looked back to him. It was like his eyes were rubber bands the way they snapped back so fast. “Frosty the laughing clown!” he gave Tommy  a smile.


Tommy studied the clown for a second, suddenly feeling more comfortable. Frosty smiled evily, feeling happy. “Like Frosty the Snowman?!” he got all excited.


Frosty nodded. “And you’re Tommy! So now we’re friends, not strangers anymore, huh? Do you want ice cream? A balloon?”


Tommy thought for a second, and then looked back at Frosty. “I just want my ball.” 


“Very well, Tommy.” Frosty nodded excitedly at the little boy. “Come and get your ball.” 


“What do you mean?” Tommy cocked his head, confused. “Can you give it to me?” 


“Of course, Tommy. I’ll give you some ice cream - and a BALLOON if you grab your ball from me!” Frosty nodded at Tommy.


Tommy smiled nervously. Taking a deep breath, he nodded. He took the few steps toward the ice cream truck that were left and slowly reached his hand to his soccer ball. He couldn’t quite reach all the way up, but he tried his best. 


“That’s it,” Frosty nodded, looking down. He kept smiling wider and wider. The clown kept stretching his arm further and further backwards, inch by inch. Once half of Tommy’s arm was inside of the van, Frosty dropped the soccer ball outside. It started rolling away. 


His eyes turned to a deep color of reddish orange, the pupils a dark sinister color of red. Frosty’s teeth transformed into sharp teeth that were a dirty color of dark yellow.  


Tommy tried to scream, but all that came out was a strange, distorted sound that sounded muffled. Nobody would be able to hear it. He barely had a chance now. 


Frosty grabbed hold of Tommy’s arm. Frosty’s fingers ripped through his white plastic gloves. He had claws; inhuman claws. His teeth came out in all different directions, his now fully red eyes went in two different directions as he opened his mouth wide and bit at Tommy’s arm.


 Tommy, trying to struggle out of his grasp in many different directions was crying out with nobody to hear him. 


“You’ll be the new ice cream flavor,” Frosty exclaimed. “It’s been three years since I last had a new one.” 



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