The Tunnel

It was Wednesday afternoon. He sneaked down the stairs to the kitchen, where the distracted nanny was cooking something. He felt an urge to play outside. He'd never been out in his short life. He opened the door and left his house. The outside looked terrific! He started playing with his ball, tossing it around. The ball rolled near a tunnel close to his house the last time he threw it. Just as he leaned over to pick it up, he saw it. Immediately he was filled with terror. He could barely breathe; everything went silent... He could hear it, the sound of his own heart beating faster. He didn't know what to do, so he ran as fast as possible, hoping nobody would follow him. Fear quickly took over him; tears were running down his face. Every few steps, he looked back, but he saw nothing. They didn't see me, he thought. He opened the door of his house and looked at the kitchen, but no one was there. He grabbed the cell phone from the table and went upstairs. His chest rose up and down with every breath; he entered his room, locked the door, got under his bed, and stared at the door. Somebody, please help me, he whispered to himself. That's when he thought he should call the police. Crimson Ball  (Female voice) “911, what's your emergency?” “PLEASE, PLEASE, HELP ME!” he gulped. The operator puts the microphone on mute for a second and notifies the patrol of a child in danger. She tracks the kid's calls and sends them to his location. “Sweetheart, what is going on? Are you okay? What is your name? Keep talking to me; are you in a safe area?” “My name is Billie; I was near the tunnel where the "thing" passes daily with people in it. I saw something terrible. (Started crying again and breathing heavily) I was playing outside while my nanny was cooking. I wasn’t supposed to go outside without her, but I went outside anyway. I was playing with my ball, and it rolled down near the tunnel.” “Okay, Billie, you have not responded yet; if you are okay and safe, I need to know you are safe.” “I am fine, I came back home, but my nanny is not here.” Patrol notifies the operator that they are fifteen minutes away from the location. “Honey, the help is on the way; hang on; hide somewhere. We will be there very soon.” “Hurry up, please,” he said frantically. “How old are you, Billie?” “I am six years old.” “You are a big man, Billie; are your parents’ home?” “No, they left for work early, my mom is a teacher, and my dad is an Accountant.” Patrol reports again, five minutes away from the kid's house. “Billie, the police is almost there; they are five minutes away from you. You should be able to hear the sirens very soon.” The operator hears a struggle and hears Billie crying. There is heavy breathing on the phone, and the call is interrupted; the operator only hears a very frustrating tone; she feels useless. They had been on that call for over twenty minutes; the patrol was close to getting to the kid. Now, something had happened in that house. Patrol got to the house, got out of the car, and ran towards it. “Wiltshire Police Department, Billie, are you here?” A police officer signals two officers to go toward the back of the house and one to follow him inside. “Clear!” “The bottom floor is clear; let's go upstairs.” The two officers walked up the stairs, and there were three rooms. Two of them had the doors open, but one had the door closed. They checked the rooms with the doors open, and then they slowly approached the last door. “Billie, we are the police; we are here to help. Can you open the door?” One of the officers noticed that there were marks of forced entry on the door. They got their weapons in the ready position and kicked the door in to find an empty room, a small bed with blue sheets, a mirror, a desk with a computer, and attached to the wall, a TV. On the floor, something caught their attention; there was a small ball covered with dots of blood.