Ring Around the Rosies, All Fall Down

ring around the rosies

“I did it. I freed myself,” sang a calm woman’s voice.

“What did you do?” the 911 operator questioned, trying to understand if this was a prank call.

Still singing, the childlike voice replied, “Why I killed them. I killed them all.” Then the voice giggled as if sharing a joke before the phone went silent.

Since all calls have to be responded to, the operator contacted the police informing them of the location of the call and what was said.

Still unsure if this call could be a prank or if someone had confessed to a murder, the police sent a patrol car to the address.

Parking in front of the one-story single-family house, the officers looked at the house. It looked to have been built in the 1970s. The paint had faded to a yellow, with light brown edges. The paint chipped in places. Weeds covered the front lawn and a chain-link fence surrounding it.

Before exiting the car, one officer called for backup. Something felt wrong. The faded red front door stood open with what looked like a hand reaching out. Every light lit up the windows. From inside the windows, the officers could see streaks of red, like a child painting on the walls.

As soon as backup arrived, they split up. Two went around to the back, while the other slowly approached the front door.

The two officers moved into the backyard covered in more weeds. Light from the windows lit up the small backyard. In the middle of the yard a metal spike looked hammered in the ground, one an owner might use to pen a dog on a leash. They started looking for a dog, but other than the spike, they did not see any toys, food, or water placed around.

The officers in the front carefully approached the front door. The closer they walked, the more they saw. The hand was attached to a male body. Its face twisted in pain. The abdomen opened. The red painting on the wall looked more like blood than paint. They could smell death and rotten garbage. Pulling their weapons they prepared to enter the house.

Carefully, the officers in the back also pulled their weapons and eased open the back sliding glass door. The younger officer turned away and began vomiting into the weeds. The older officer sighed. He’d seen a lot and something told him he did not want to enter this house. Still, duty called and he needed to see if anyone survived.

The three officers entered from the front and back. The older officer found two more bodies, a man and a woman, in the kitchen, with more blood painted on the walls. Eventually, they realized they could hear something. It sounded like singing.

Slowly, while they checked a few more rooms they made their way toward the voice. They found one more body lying on a bed. Each body had their abdomen cut open.

As they drew closer to the one closed door in the house at the end of the hall, they realized what the voice was singing. Glancing at each other in confusion, they stopped and listened to the innocent childlike voice.

“Ring around the rosies, Pocket full of posies, a bloody knife, a bloody knife and they all fall down.”

Then she giggled and repeated “Ring around the rosies. Pocket full of posies, a bloody knife, a bloody knife, and they all fall down.” Giggle.

The officers stood there listening as this went on for three rounds. Finally, the older officer approached the door. Trying the handle, finding it unlocked, he pushed the door open.

Spinning around the room in a red spattered, white lace dress a young woman, possibly in her 20’s sang, Ring around the rosies, pocket full of posies, a bloody knife, a bloody knife, and they all fall down.” Giggle.

When she saw the officers, she gave a wide smile. Her smiled unnerved the officers. It looked a little too bright and cheerful for the amount of blood painted on the walls and on her dress.

“I did it! I’m free!” she giggled.

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