The cracked sidewalk lead up to the creaky steps of the old Victorian house.

He took a deep breath… and began walking up to the porch just above the stairs.

With each step it felt like he was walking in molasses, slowly his legs felt heavier the closer he got.

At the steps he struggled to lift his leg. Placing it on the step, he struggled to lift the other as the step creaked and groaned under him.

Twice more he struggled, twice more he climbed. Now, on the porch, he could see the note on the door. “Ring for delivery.”

The postman reached behind his back, fondling the bloody knife. The last victim had struggled and screamed. His crooked smile spread as he pushed the button and heard the ding dong of the bell.

He could see the little girl approach the door.

His hand closed on the knife as he stood holding the package. The door opened and the little girl stepped out. She smiled at the man.

She reached for the package and his hand swung the knife as the girl brushed his hand with hers.

The scene explodes in white bright, the man feels at peace, at last, his anger swept away.

The eerie soft words faded in the air. “Special delivery…” The young girl said.