Kidnapped

"Why are we doing this?" Drake asked Roland as they walked down the street; everyone avoided the three teens. That was something new. No one avoided them before, before they had seen the kidnapping. Before they had made that call to the cops, before the three boys even knew of the witch.

"Because no one else will. Did your parents tell you of her?"

"Not really. Only to leave her alone."

"She takes a kid every year. She took Sally." Sally had been Dillon's older sister; she had been taken four years prior.

"No. Sally ran away. She now lives in Texas. She's getting married next year. She writes me a letter every couple of months." Dillon piped up from behind them.

"Every couple of months? Do they come in on the same day every time?" Roland asked.

"Well, I don't know. I never thought about it. I guess they do come in regularly. On the second week every two or three months." Roland nodded. Not wanting to point out that the letters were more than likely being sent by his parents and not his sister.

"How do we even know if that girl is still alive?" Drake asked.

"She's only had the girl for two weeks. So, if she only takes a girl every year, then the girl should still be alive." Roland explained.

"How do you know all of this, Roland?" Dillon asked.

"My parents told me. They said that the witch takes a kid every year. But no one will do anything about it because they're scared that she'll destroy the town." The witch lived on the edge of town, where Roland's parents had warned him when he was little not to go on that side.

"How will we know the house that she's in?" Roland thought for a minute.

"Well, she's a witch, so we'll be looking for a house that's probably rundown with vultures circling above it."

"I would rather we find a house made of candy," muttered Drake.

"Drake, you've done nothing but complain. Why don't you just go home?"

"And you two get all the glory of saving that girl? Not a chance." Roland rolled his eyes. He didn't care for the glory; he just wanted to make sure that the girl was safe. It was the right thing to do. The girl that they had seen being taken from the alley couldn't have been more than twelve. Not much younger than Roland and his friends at fifteen. He felt bad for the girl; she had been walking by the alley when a car just appeared. Then she had been shoved into the car without anyone touching her. When Roland had tried to see who had been driving, the driver's seat was empty.

When they had called the cops, they gave the license plate number to the person on the other end. The man accused the boys of pulling a prank and then hung up. But the boys hadn't come up with the plan until a week ago. After Roland's parents had told him about the witch and her ritual of taking a child every year. His parents had told him that the witch had been living in this town longer than anyone else. Long before the town had even existed. Each of the boys was carrying a weapon; Roland had taken the gun his parents kept in the dresser. Drake had his baseball bat and was idly swinging it back and forth, and Dillon had a metal flashlight. They didn't know how they were going to get the girl out, hopefully without running into the witch. But that was what the weapons were for.

The house on the edge of town wasn't rundown, nor was it made of candy. It was, however, the only house on that street; the car they had seen before wasn't in the driveway. The boys walked around the house to the backyard. If that house wasn't the only one on the road, then they wouldn't have known that it was the witch's house. The backyard had green grass and a small shed.

"Should we try the shed first?" Drake asked

"Why would she be in the shed?" Dillon questioned.

"Haven't you seen any criminal shows? A lot of killers keep their victims in a space away from their house, so they don't get caught."

"I would think that she would be in the basement."

"Well, we'll check the shed first since we're out here, then we'll go to the basement," Roland suggested. The other boys nodded. They walked toward the shed. It wasn't creepy looking, just a small white mini barn structure. It didn't have any windows. There was a door at the front; it wasn't even locked. Drake reached the door first and opened it with a jerk. The shed was full of tools; shovels and hoes lined the wall. Drake closed the door.

"Now the basement." They turned to the house; it was white and looked like it had an attic, which meant at least four floors to search. They walked across the backyard, but before they got to the door, they noticed a hole in the side of the porch.

"Wait a second. There's that hole. Do you think that it goes to the basement?"

"I'll go down there and look," Dillon said. Roland thought that was a good idea since Dillon was the smallest of the three. "I'll unlock the back door too." Dillon slipped into the hole; Drake and Roland waited. Each minute they waited felt like a year. Finally, the back door opened, and Dillon stared at them through the screen door. "The girl wasn't in the basement."

"We'll check the attic then."

Roland and Drake walked into the house, careful not to make any noise. Inside, the house looked as normal as the outside. They walked through the kitchen and past the basement door. They walked up the stairs. The second floor had five bedrooms and a door on the other end of the hall. They walked down the hall to the door, opened it, and behind the door was a set of stairs that led to the attic. They walked up the stairs, not noticing that the door closed behind them.

The girl was in the attic, sitting there playing with what looked like handmade dolls. "Hey, little girl." But she didn't say anything, didn't even notice them, just kept playing. She threw a doll, and Dillon let out a scream as he fell into a wall. The girl did look up then, a smile lighting her face. She threw another doll, and it hit the ceiling at the same time as Drake did. Neither of the boys moved after being thrown. Roland tried to move away from the girl, but he couldn't. The last doll was clenched in her hand, then the girl threw the doll at the window. Roland felt his feet leave the ground as he was thrown back, but he didn't break through the window.

As the sun was setting, his screams echoed around the inside of the house. But outside there was no sound, no screams, only silence.