Work Text:
Under The Rug
He was terrified. Fiifty-seven year old Herald Bertfield was living a happy life with his newly turned six year old daughter and his wife, and he had no idea what was under the rug. Well, he had an idea. He decided that it must be some kind of ghost. After all, when he tried to hit it, it seemed like the object went right through the ghost. He asked his wife about it, thirty-nine year old Marlene Bertfield. She waved him off with a "It's probably nothing. Have you taken your pills yet?" He was determined to find out what it was. He wanted his family to continue it's happy little life. So, he banned his wife and their six year old daughter, Beth, from going into the hallway. He conducted a series of tests. First, he decided to lure the ghost out. He placed a block of cheese next to the rug, far enough away so that the ghost would have to leave the rug to get the cheese. Then he stayed up all night to watch. The cheese was left untouched. He got a scolding from his wife the next morning, however. "Herald, that cheese was expensive! How dare you waste it on your silly experiments!! I was going to use it for breakfast!" He was made to eat the entire block of cheese. He was unfazed. The next test was to stomp all over the rug. He waited until midnight once again, then rushed into the hallway, wearing his heavy steel-toed boots from his job as a railroad worker and stomped hard on the rug. The lump did nothing but move around. He was once again scolded. He had broken the nice hardwood floors and woken the entire neighborhood with his shouting amd stomping. His next, and last plan was to stab the rug. So, once again, he waited until nightfall. Then, he crept up and pounced onto the rug. He landed with a thud, and the knife impaled something. There was a shriek and red seeped through the rug. He laughed, triumphant. Then he hears scuffling, and Marlene runs into the hall. "HERALD?! Have you seen Beth!?" She was disheveled and her usually immaculate hair was out of its normal bun and down her back with sweat on her brow. She had been running around the house, looking for their daughter after she haven't been in her bedroom when Marlene went to go tuck her in and say goodnight. She spots the rug, now almost completely red with blood. She grows pale. "Herald...what is that?" He goes pale as well. "Y-you said you can't find Beth...?" His voice is wobbly and uncertain. "HERALD JAMES BERTFIELD LIFT THAT RUG RIGHT NOW" Marlene screams. She flips the rug up, and there she is. Beth, bleeding out on the floor, clutching at the bloody wound that is her eye. She whimpers in pain, tears mixing with the blood gushing out of the hole that used to be her eye. Marlene drops to her knees and presses her hands to the wound in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. She whips her head around to glare daggers at Herald. "HERALD, HOW COULD YOU?!" "N-no, I didn't know!" Marlene shakes her head, refusing to listen. She scoops Beth into her arms and rushes out the door, screaming for help, hands stained red in her daughters blood. The family is no longer happy.
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It's been months.
Herald is in jail.
Beth is on life support in the hospital.
Her father is being charged with attempted murder and has been diagnosed with Schizophrenia.
There was never anything under the rug. His daughter Beth had seen her father being oh so protective of the rug, so she decided to go under to play a prank.
This was her fatal mistake.
The plug was pulled.
Beth was dead.
Under The Rug
~End~