Missing Without a Trace: Short Horror Story

It wasn't until the 1970s that the government was aware of serial kidnappers and child murderers. People knew, they just didn't know how bad it could be. How bad it would escalate over the next two decades. Davey Barazzo is lying on top of his Jaws covers, not able to fall asleep. One of his friends, Peyton, convinced him to sneak into the R-rated movie. He was immediately in love with it, and he begged his mother for merchandise. A few months after he saw this movie with Peyton, his friend went missing. Without a trace. The front door of his family home was unlocked, and the back door was locked. No signs of forced entry, and no windows broken. He was last seen in his bed, sound asleep. If he was kidnapped from his bed, he let the kidnapper inside. So, what happened? These thoughts plague Davey every night. He can't seem to get away from it, he sees Peyton everywhere. 

He looks up at the sky sometimes, and whenever he sees a funny-looking cloud it reminds him of Peyton. He never wants to watch Jaws again, he associates the movie with his best friend's disappearance. He even started to throw all his merchandise in the closet, shoving it away in the corner under extra pillows and blankets. He can't bare throw it away, but he can't look at it either. But the covers stay on. His mother paid a lot for all this, he wouldn't want to waste it by tossing it out or getting rid of it. That's morbid of him to think, but he's had to grow up fast. Especially after one of his classmates disappeared as well. 

That's when he knew something was deeply wrong. Peyton was a boy, but the next person to go missing was a girl, Julissa. Davey and her didn't talk often, but he sat next to her in 5th-period English. He's known of her since elementary school. Julissa's mother never stopped putting up flyers, even after 3 months when the police said she was likely dead. Davey often saw her at his middle school, stapling flyers to wooden posts outside and taping them onto lockers. It makes him sad, he gets sort of teary-eyed when he sees her doing this. Because he knows his mother would do the same thing. 

Davey's mother, a single woman in her 30s, is sound asleep in her bed, snoring softly. Her husband died a few years ago of cancer, and she worked 2 jobs to take her mind off it and to pay the bills. At the moment she's taking a nap, she'll be up in an hour for her shift at the hospital as a nurse. And later, she'll be driving a taxi. Davey knew his mother would be awake in an hour, and she would likely come to check on him. She started doing that when Peyton went missing. She never let Davey walk home from school or go anywhere alone either. This irritated him, but he understood. It also irritated him when she picked him up from school in that bright yellow taxi. But she's his mom, it's normal to be embarrassed by your parents. 

The young boy lets out a sigh and his eyes flutter shut, he's finally ready to sleep. The sound of cicadas and crickets outside his window help lull him to sleep. He's just beginning to nod off when he hears it. His walls are thin and his windows aren't double-glazed, he can hear every car driving down the street. It doesn't bother him, but this time, it's a little bit strange. 

He doesn't hear the car first, he hears a song. A song he's only heard during the day. It's the ice cream man? But what could he be doing here at this hour? There can't be any other children awake, other than Davey. And clearly, none of the children in the neighborhood are playing in the street, it's 2 am. Their mothers would never let them go outside after the street lights came on. That's the rule most children abide by, even before the kidnappings. 

For some reason, the ice cream man being on the street this late at night doesn't worry Davey. He knows the ice cream man, and so does his mother. His name is Bill, and he's a short overweight man with sparse hair. He drives down Park Street, Davey's neighborhood, every 3 days or so. Usually in the mornings or late afternoons, the latter is rare but Davey's heard the music as late as 9 pm. It's sort of strange that he's on the street right now, but suddenly Davey wants ice cream. 

He sits up and shoves his feet into his slippers, standing up and stretching his arms over his head. He lets out a deep sigh and tiptoes across the room, slowly opening the door. He cringes at the creaking from the rusty hinges, glancing down the hallway at his mother's bedroom door. He waits a moment, to see if she heard him. She's a light sleeper, he's snuck out before. And he's been caught before. He knows how to be quiet, like a ninja. That's what he feels like when he's creeping around the house for snacks after staying up all night. This is different, he'll be back in just a second. 

Davey tiptoes down the hallway toward the front door, stopping in the living room for a moment to grab a few dollar bills from off the coffee table. He left those earlier after mowing his next-door neighbor's lawn. They don't pay very well, but it's something. Soon he's standing across from his front door, he can still hear the music. He's surprised his mother hasn't heard it. But she likes to sleep with the TV on, maybe it's too loud. Davey shrugs and unlocks the front door. 

Before he can grasp the doorknob, he feels a shiver make its way down his spine. He furrows his brows and takes a step away from the door in shock. The oppressive and overwhelming feeling still lingers, he recognizes this as dread. Something inside of him is telling him to stay inside, don't go outside. He can still hear the music, and he sees the headlights of the large white truck pass his house. 

He lifts his head confidently and takes a deep breath, slowly turning the doorknob in case he wakes his mother. He pulls the front door open and makes his way outside, carefully shutting it behind him and cringing as he does. It seems like every sound he's made has been amplified, the worst part of being sneaky. Bill stops his car in front of his neighbor's house, he probably saw Davey come outside. 

He clutches the money in his fist, speed-walking down the walkway and onto the sidewalk. Suddenly, he hears a loud recognizable bang. The unmistakable sound of someone slamming their car door. He stares over at the ice cream truck, he doesn't see anyone. He stops for a moment but shrugs and continues walking toward the ice cream truck. He nears the back of a neighbor's car, a red 1970 El Camino.

When he's closer to the truck, he watches as Bill pulls the sliding glass window open, "Hey Davey, what are you doin' up so late kiddo?" He asks, sounding sort of out of breath. Bill glances around the area for a moment, eyes wide and glazed, "Where's your mom?" Bill asks another question, not allowing Davey to answer his first one. Davey notices a strange brown-looking substance on the side of Bill's neck and the collar of his shirt. It's pretty dark, so he can hardly see the color, and he thinks it's just chocolate ice cream. Because Davey trusts this man, he's known him since he was born. He was friends with his late father, and that's why Davey enjoys speaking to the man. 

After this, Davey tells the man his mother is sleeping. He receives a grin in reply, and then Bill asks if he wants some ice cream. Davey tilts his head, staring at the menu for a few moments, "No, not from there," Bill says softly, but there's a bossy undertone there that doesn't escape Davey, "Here." Bill says, holding a large cone out to the young boy. Davey stares at it for a moment, it's his favorite, strawberry with rainbow sprinkles. 

Davey smiles up at the man and reaches forward, hands grasping the cone. Suddenly, Bill loosens his grip and the cone goes crashing to the floor, sending ice cream everywhere. Davey cringes, now there'll be ants everywhere and he doesn't have any ice cream. Bill lets out a chuckle, "Don't worry about that buddy," He closes the window and turns away, confusing the young boy. Suddenly, he opens the side door, sliding it open and staring expectantly at the boy, "I have some more in here." Bill says with a lecherous grin, moving aside to allow the young boy to enter his truck.