Sincerely, Jennifer x

Mr and Mrs Orchard had tried everything that they could to have a child. It was all that they’d ever wanted. Every wish they made and every hope they had was to have a family of their very own.

They tried it the old fashioned way, to no avail. They tried every option offered by medical science, with no luck, and then, as a last, languishing resort, they tried prayer.

The two of them prayed every morning and every night, and soon, they found themselves praying at every spare moment, their minds full of nothing but their desperate desire to be blessed with a baby of their very own. They would close their eyes and plead with God to give them a child. It was quite pathetic to watch, really.

God did not hear those poor souls, but I did. I had three naughty little children, and so, I sent them to visit Mr and Mrs Orchard, watching from afar as they cried with joy at their prayers being answered.

The children were unusual, but Mr and Mrs Orchard were so thrilled to finally have a family of their own that they didn’t care.

My children had always been a little different to the others, but they weren’t my problem anymore, so I could enjoy watching them on their latest adventure. They were always so hungry, and could never focus on anything but their games, so I was glad to be rid of them. They were someone else’s burden, at last.

Mr and Mrs Orchard believed that God had answered their prayers, and so they tried to raise the little terrors as good, God fearing children, but it was never going to work. The children were born bad, you see. The worst, most wayward little horrors you’ve ever seen, and no amount of worship, Sunday school or well meaning love would change that.

The eldest, they called Edward, but I had always called him Smiles. He never stopped smiling, and he had the sunniest outlook of the three, but he was selfish, and very rude. He could see inside people, you know, and I don’t just mean when he chopped them up. He could see their souls, and that was what he hungered for the most. Such a hungry boy, although not really a boy, destined never to be a man, just a… thing. A terrible, horrid thing.

Next was the one they called Daniel, but he had always been Frowns to me. A miserable little bastard, always crying and sulking over something. He followed Smiles around like a lost puppy, always hoping to impress his older brother. He was a people pleaser, with a strange, sadistic streak that grew starker as he grew bigger.

Last, but not least, was my little princess. They called her Gwen, but she was always my little Kiss.

It was her favourite thing to do. She just wanted to hug and kiss everybody that she met. Such a friendly little girl, but oh, how she got carried away. She did dreadful things sometimes, when she didn’t get her own way, but she didn’t mean to, of course. She was a good little girl, at heart… or at least she would be, if she had a heart.

Mr and Mrs Orchard weren’t the right parents for my children. I knew that, but they’d just got out of control and I was so tired, so I sent them on their way and tried to think no more about it.

They’d got under my skin, though, and so it was hard to step away entirely. I should have been enjoying my empty nest, free of my little brats for the first time in over a century, but I couldn’t quite let them go, and so, I began to observe, my bright eyes burning with tears of pride as I watched my little monsters fail to adapt to the human world.

As always, Smiles was the first problem. He was a friendly boy, but got overexcited, and had never quite mastered the art of playing it cool. He would attract the attention of a friend, and then frighten them off in the same afternoon, simply by being unseemly. I watched it happen again and again, until finally, he snapped. Snapping the arm of another little boy who wouldn’t let him join in a game of football.

I tutted, retiring back behind the bushes of the sports field with a sigh. You could take the boy from my arms, but he would still be my boy.

He just wanted friends to play with, and as time went on, he learned very quickly that the best way to keep a friend was to make sure they couldn’t leave.

He carved out a little corner of the playground to rule over. It was just behind the caretaker’s shed, and none of the other children would go near it. It was his little kingdom of darkness, shadows and damp, muddy grass. I left him a little housewarming present. A shiny, sparkling axe. It was too big for him at first, but as he grew with the other children, he found the strength to swing it high above his head and defend his land.

When one of the children found their way behind the shed and into my little Smiler’s lair, they were never seen again. Maybe they lived. Maybe they died. Nobody ever asked. It wasn’t that they didn’t know, but they just didn’t know what they could do about it. Nothing in a teacher’s training prepares them for children being broken and butchered in the shadows.

It tickled me to watch them avert their eyes as they stepped over puddles of blood, herding the children away to try and keep them from my boy’s clutches.

It never worked though. No matter what they tried, Smiles would find a way to get one of them alone, and soon, they’d be trapped in his clutches.

The parents began to complain, and some pulled their children out of the school, but my little monster always found a way to make new friends. After a while, the teachers just tried to keep as many of the other children inside as they could, holding onto the lives of those they could save, and pointing towards the shed with a defeated sigh when sobbing parents came to call.

None of them wanted to be next.

I often wondered what Mr and Mrs Orchard thought. They would drop their brats off at school every day, and pick them up every afternoon, meeting the eyes of the protesting parents that began to crowd the school grounds, and the frightened children that hid behind them. They never spoke to them. They never scolded their brood. They just pretended, like everyone else, that everything was fine.

Frowns was a miserable little bastard, but for a brief time, he tried to integrate, or at least that is what I think he was trying to do. He would give people space. Lots of space, in fact. He’d hide behind trees, in dark corners, under tables like a little bridge troll. He was shy. His little hands shaking as he watched his brother bring new friends back to their den to play with. He would try and talk to the new friends his brother would bring to play, but he could never get his words out, and so, he would just cry.

Sometimes, I thought he might help them escape, but Frowns might have been the smartest of all of my children. He knew that nobody but his siblings would ever truly accept him, and so, his loyalty to his brother was unwavering. He had sympathy for the little brats his brother captured, of course, his tears falling and flooding as he heard them scream and cry, but still, his shaking hands held them down as their arms and legs snapped and the light left their eyes.

Frowns tried to learn how to fit in, but he just could not quite manage it. He was just a little too strange, and so, in the end, he accepted his fate, and kept to his pack, like a good, little creature.

Darling little Kiss was so wild. She could not be tamed and she could not be stopped. All she wanted was to be loved. Her lips had a mind of their own, and she was not as good at hiding her toys as her brothers were.

The teachers and parents could ignore when another child went missing if all that was left was a little trail of blood, or the occasional finger, but Miss Kiss was a mucky pup, and she’d leave her toys all over the playground, and in the classrooms too, so, people took a stand and decided that the siblings had to go.

It all seemed to happen at once. Parents marched on the school, some of the teachers even stood by their side, demanding that the administration and governors do something about my horrible, terrible little brats. Then, they took to the streets, swarming towards the Orchard’s little home on the hill, and together, Mr and Mrs Orchard gathered the children they’d begged for and ran.

They went from town to town and from place to place, but nothing ever really changed. It was in their nature, you see. My little monsters could be nothing but little monsters, no matter who I gave them too.

Over the years, Mr and Mrs Orchard tried so hard to straighten out my little brats, but in the end, it was never going to end another way.

They took them to the mountains. Far away from temptation and toys, and begged for the children’s salvation. The children didn’t like that.

They were so hungry, and there was nothing for them in those mountains. They screamed and screamed but nobody would hear them. Frowns fell into floods of tears from morning until night. Miss Kiss cried too, lonely and listless. Smiles lost his sparkling smile, and that was the moment that I knew I had made a mistake in giving my children to Mr and Mrs Orchard.

They were good people. They had done nothing wrong. Once upon a time, I had been like them, but those brats drove me mad and stripped every ounce of humanity from me, until I was nothing but a dark shell of a man, with bright, blistering eyes, warmer than the sun, never meant to draw people in, but to warn them away like a lighthouse at night. I don’t even know if I heard their prayers and granted their wishes to be cruel, or if the brats wanted me to.

There is nothing left of me, you see. I am a helpless husk… except, this teeny, tiny gulp of guilt that is stuck in my throat as I watch that mountain cabin. I don’t know where the children come from. They are my children but not by birth. They found me, and I loved and cherished them, until they destroyed me. I wanted them too, just like Mr and Mrs Orchard. Who heard my prayer? I don’t know. Something sick. Something unseemly.

They destroyed Mr and Mrs Orchard too. Then off they went, down the mountains and into the town, to find some new friends to play with.

I watched. I didn’t try to stop them. They weren’t babies anymore. It had taken over a century, but at last they were growing again. They only grow when there is nothing left. I don’t know why.

Once upon a time, I was their father, but then, they grew far too much for me to handle, and I had to admit that I had grown too. I had become something that I could not handle, and so had they. It was time for us to part ways, nothing else to it, nothing else to do, but… could I stop them? Could I find where they came from and send them back? Could I make sure that there are no more Mr and Mrs Blanks? No more toys thrown to the ground? No more tears?

Oh. Hush. These are just the wistful, wasted thoughts of a silly old man who hasn’t been a man since his little brats destroyed him.

The children were so hungry. They always needed more. They took and took and took and took until Mummy and Daddy had nothing left, and so, they became Mr and Mrs Blank.

The children had a whole new town to play with, and I watched, with horror and hunger in my shimmering, sobbing eyes, because there was nothing else to do.

I’m still watching. My little brats cause havoc everywhere that they go. Mr and Mrs Blank watch too. They don’t say a word. They just glare at me, and at the children.

You know, I call them Mr and Mrs Blank, but I don’t think they know how lucky they are to still have a name. I have nothing left. Nothing but my darkness, and my shimmering, sobbing eyes.