"Story, story, bandits galore.
We saw a bandit with a bandana and more.
There were tears, pain and conflicts that we felt could never end.
Troubles and ways we thought we could never pend.
But we were alone and for ourselves, and we learned how to fend.
Blood splattering and bones cracking.
We were tied, so the events were brain-wracking.
Smells of decay and bodies span about like a relay.
Fears and troubles we could not keep at bay.
Victims of bandana have been slain.
Peace to their souls and may it remain."
— Love
Jasmine.
There were chilling stories of a mysterious person who would kidnap people, but none of his victims or their bodies were ever found. The individual earned the nickname "Bandana Bandit" because he was observed concealing his face with a dark cloth which resembled a bandana. The Bandana Bandit's face, they said, was a void. No one could remember his features, only the bandana—a dark cloth that seemed to swallow the light. The Bandana Bandit's most chilling trait was his inhuman stillness. He never ran, never hurried, yet he was always exactly where he needed to be. His bandana moved unnaturally as if it had a will of its own, and those who made the mistake of looking directly at it would feel their worst fears playing in their minds—until they couldn't distinguish reality from nightmare. It was said the people who witnessed him kill or saw his face had never been the same; it could have been madness, shock, or maybe they were victims as well. It was rumoured the witness could only say or scream how the victims they saw died. It drove witnesses to madness; many ended their own lives in search of peace. One of the stories of his witnesses was Mr Trevon. It was said he saw the bandana bandit killing a woman in the dark. He couldn't see who it was, but many speculated it was Mrs Diana, a rich yet elderly woman who was murdered on the same day he was found behaving abnormally. After that day, Mr Trevon could only say "stabbed and decapitated" repeatedly, causing others to be distant from him, leaving him in isolation until he ended his own life.
Jasmine remembered the whispers from their neighbours. The Bandana Bandit was the only thing she could think of. Her hands shook as she tried to push the thought away, but it was useless. "Could it be him?" Jasmine thought, her breath hitched as the terrifying possibility settled over her like a shadow. Her heart dropped, and raced uncontrollably, her breaths quick and shallow. Chills ran down her spine, and she lost control of her thoughts, contemplating whether she or her brothers would be safe. "Am I safe? Are my brothers safe?" "What is going to happen?" "Are my parents ok?" "How are we gonna escape?" "This can't be real. No, it can't be".
Fear gnawed at Jasmine, her thoughts spinning in denial. She clutched her trembling arms tightly as if the pressure alone could stop her from unravelling. Moments passed in suffocating silence, her breath shallow and ragged. What if it's true? What if we're next? Jasmine thought, not knowing what to do.
Then a sharper fear struck her: Julian and Judah.
"Julian! Judah!" Jasmine shouted worriedly for her brothers. "Are you there?" she asked, hoping she was not alone.
"Yes, I am," the two brothers tiredly exclaimed, assuring their sister.
"Are you ok?" Julian paused, his voice shaking with anxiety and fear before adding, "Did he hurt you?".
Judah's jaw clenched, his fists trembling at his sides. 'If he laid a hand on you...' His voice faltered, but burning eyes said the rest.
"He didn't touch me." I am okay; there's no need to worry!" Jasmine abruptly says with an ounce of annoyance.
Judah's jaw tightened as he hissed, 'He better not have touched you."
"Enough! We need to figure out how to escape." Jasmine said.
The three siblings fell silent, the weight of their predicament settling over them like a thick fog.
" Do you remember the story about the Bandana Bandit we heard from the neighbours?" Jasmine said. The brothers answered positively, looking tense at the random question.
"The man who took us, Jasmine, hesitated. He was wearing a bandana over his face," Jasmine whispered. Her voice was steady, but her eyes filled with fear. Could it be that we are now his next victims?" Jasmine said with curiosity and focus. The brothers' faces turned stern and serious.
Judah and Julian froze.
Judah shook his head, refusing to believe it. "That's just a coincidence," he said, sounding hollow. "Lots of people wear bandanas. It doesn't mean it's him."
"But the stories..." Julian muttered, his voice barely audible. "The neighbours said the Bandana Bandit would leave no trace of his victims. And if someone saw him, they'd..."
"Don't say it!" Judah snapped, his voice harsh and shaking.
But Jasmine couldn't shake the stories—he never ran but always seemed to appear as if the shadows themselves carried him.
The children panicked, their minds racing with dread. The shadows seemed to stare at them, enclosing them in suffocating darkness. The stench of decay clawed at their throats, a gruesome reminder of the victims brutally killed. They saw a room which was a graveyard of horrors. Bones lay scattered like discarded toys, walls smeared with dark stains of blood. The air reeked of decay, each breath thick with despair. The siblings huddled together, their silent terror almost palpable. Hope felt like a distant memory, replaced by a crushing helplessness. But Jasmine's resolve burned through the fear, finding their parents, alive or not, was their only choice. Jasmine clenched her fists and pushed past the fear that threatened to consume her. 'We have to find them,' she thought. "We can't leave without knowing," she said with a mix of fear and determination. "At least to say goodbye," she said, shedding tears vigorously with a quickened breath. If this was their fate, she needed to know. Even if it meant facing the worst, she had to see them one last time.
Jasmine's tears spilt over to her brothers, and for a moment, it felt like the fear would swallow them all. But then Julian reached out, gripping her hand. 'We're still here,' he said, his voice trembling but firm. 'We can't give up now.'
"We have to stop this," Julian said, wiping his tears and with struggle in his voice.
"Julian is right," Judah said, standing tall and firm. We can do this, but we need a plan," he paused, thinking deeply about a plan.
Jasmine wiped her tears, her voice trembling but resolute. 'Whether they're alive or not, we have to find them. We need to know.'
Judah balled his fists, his voice rising despite himself, falling into fear. 'I'll break that door down, even if it's the last thing I do.' Judah said, his eyes burned with reckless determination.
"Cut it out, Judah," Julian whispered sharply. "If that is the last thing for you, we don't want it for us" "If we're too loud, he'll hear us. We need to be smart about this."
'Then what's your plan, genius?' Judah shot back, but Jasmine stepped between them. 'Enough! "Both of you, stop. We'll figure this out together—but no smashing anything, Judah."
The siblings huddled together, their whispered plans barely audible over their racing hearts. A faint, deliberate creak broke the siblings' whispers like a knife through paper. They froze, the air thick with terror, their hastily formed plan dissolving into the shadows. Each dragging footstep grew louder, closer as if savouring their fear. The siblings froze, their breath hitching. The metallic scent of blood felt heavier, suffocating. Someone—or something—was coming. A faint creak of footsteps echoed beyond the door, growing louder with every beat of their hearts. Their whispered plans were forgotten. The Bandana Bandit was coming—and there was nowhere to hide. Each step seemed to press the air out of the room, slow and deliberate, like a countdown etched into their bones. The footsteps weren't hurried—they were measured, almost mocking as if he knew they had nowhere to go. The footsteps stopped, sounding like he was around the corner or outside the room. The siblings clung to each other, their breaths hitching with every creak of the turning door handle. It moved with excruciating slowness, each sound clawing at their nerves like a countdown to their end.
10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHCLhm3r6yu
10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBZlDDwg3O7
