In the small quiet town of Ravens Hollow, surrounded by unhappy people, and foreboding woods that seem to go on forever. For as long as anyone could remember it’s always been a quiet not so peaceful place. For there’s always been tidings of a man who lived alone, way out in the woods. There was rumors that spread like a plague about him. No one knew his real name, they only knew him by the whispers they heard from the tree’s. The Keeptaker they would hear as it entered their ears and filled them with fear! It was never a specific fear that haunted them but the very essence of fear itself! At times it would eat at their souls leaving them feeling lesser than whole. Their bodies would shake, their hearts would break, their minds would quake, they felt like all they ever knew and their very lives were at stake.Some would go insane and their own lives they would take. They’d slowly start feeling something crawling under their skin. Like millions of spider’s were dwelling within marking their spirits and tainting them with sin.

Where was the children that they remember as though they were forgotten dreams. They always felt so real that it must be a memory or so it seemed. They would lay in bed at night full of fright for they knew it must have something to do with The Keeptaker. What does he keep and what could he take? Was he a myth, a legend or the rumor that he would steal a piece of their memories with every child he would take.

They never saw him or his house but somehow they knew that it was surrounded by nothing but unmarked graves. None of them had names but the dates revealed that none of the dead ever lived past the age of eight. They could never seem to sleep for their empty houses would creak. They’d hear little feet running through the house, but never saw anything just echoes of ghosts. They felt they might be children’s hopes and dreams of the time they were real and the times they were free. Yet if they are only memories then how could that be??

Frozen in fright they’d lay awake every night. As bad as it was when the sun came up, and the night drifted by, they would get up and smile as everything was forgotten like every lost child. This day was different as they all came out of their houses. The woods seemed unusual with a feeling that was almost welcoming. It was an eerie experience that left them feeling that something horrible was coming. All the tree’s stood a little straighter and on each one was a piece of paper. They all said the same thing with balloons and pretty stickers, you’re all invited to The Birthday Party of that which you can’t remember, sinisterly signed with love, The One and Only Keeptaker!

A trail appeared in the woods out of nowhere, beckoning them closer and drawing them nearer.

Come to my home and join in on the cheer of the ones you can’t remember yet still hold so dear. I’m not who you think I am and there’s nothing to fear. The children are real and they are all going to be here. There’s piñatas and cake and infinite games we can play. For today is the day you’ll you will all remember their names. Come see them all happy, running and playing.

The townsfolk were thrilled and their hearts were full of cheer. Yet something still felt unclear within the cries of their tears. Still they followed the winding path deep into the wood’s right to The Keeptaker’s lair. Lo and behold for the children were there but what they saw just filled their fears with more fear. There was piñatas everywhere just like the paper said, but the piñatas were there but they couldn’t be real. For every tree hung the children of the lives that are dead. The cakes were there also the candles little fingers. Filled with body parts and the icing made from their blood. Come join us said The Keeptaker you don’t want to miss out on the fun. In a trance they joined in and then that’s where the real terror begun. For every piñata they busted came no candy but parts cut from the young. They couldn’t help themselves for they were just puppet’s that were strung from under The Keeptaker’s spell they were forever undone. Eating their own children like they were sticks of rotting gum. The cakes held within the eyes of their daughters and sons. Cups filled with their blood that continued to overrun. The parents were crying as they were slowly dying. The Keeptaker’s laughter rang through the day all the way till the night. I’m The Taker of the young, The Keeper that’s never done! The Harbinger of sorrow in the songs that remain unsung. Now that you’re all here your fate has been sealed like the children you forgot that were always right here. Happy birthday to your children that died because of I. Now you’ll stay forever with them here in the night devoid of life. There isn’t any presents for you are gifts that are now mine. So Happy Birthday to all that in my story have died, and Happy Birthday to the co-founder of Daily Prompt, enjoy and goodnight!!

—TerrySalmon—