Find us on Google+

The Noir Family

The Noir Family

 

*TRIGGER WARNING* This story is NSFW. It contains strong violence, among other graphic depictions. If you are under the age of 18, or sensitive to such topics, refrain from proceeding any further.

 

DISCLAIMER: None of this information has been released to the public. What I’m about to share with you is highly confidential. My superiors at the bureau are trying their best to keep these killings a secret to avoid panic, but I can’t keep my mouth shut any longer. You all deserve to know the danger that lurks out there. You deserve to know that no one is safe from this family. They are deranged, twisted, psychopathic killers. The following is my recounting of an interview with one of the Noir family sons and the events that transpired thereafter.

He was sitting there, staring down at the table. His hands were cuffed, and a bit of blood dripped from a cut on his temple. His name; Lucas Noir. The oldest son of the family. Aggressive, schizophrenic, delusional, and very deadly. He was picked up outside of a friend’s house the night before, covered in blood. Thankfully, he surrendered peacefully.

I made my way into the interrogation room, stood there a minute to look him over, then took a seat in the chair opposite him. He didn’t look up. Instead, he gently placed his hands down on the table and began fidgeting with his thumbs. I dropped his file down on the table. It landed with a loud thump.

“Lucas Noir. Born April 17th, 1991. I’ve been reading about you all night.”

He raised his head a little, but not enough to meet my gaze.

“Age eight; you were admitted to a mental care facility after killing your cat. You claimed she was screaming at you, threatening to hurt you. You were released three months later.”

He remained motionless.

“Age sixteen; you were arrested for killing a high-class drug dealer, Markus Haze. You were found not guilty, claiming it was self-defense.”

He didn’t say a word.

“Lucas, why don’t you tell me what happened last night. Tell me what you did to the Walker family.”

After a moment, he took a slow, deep breath, exhaled, and finally spoke to me.

“I got to Shaun’s house last night at about eight. Him and I had been fighting over the last few days over a girl. I went over there with the intention of roughing him up a bit, but once I started, I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. Earlier in the day, before my father joined my mother at The Farm, he told me that I was a man, and that I should take care of the problem as men do.”

“What does that mean, Lucas?”

“My father always says, ‘If someone stands in the way of something you want, you simply slip a knife between their ribs, step over them, and continue onward.’ So that’s what I did, more or less. When Shaun’s parents left to do some shopping, I smashed a vase over his head, dragged him into the downstairs garage, and killed him.”

“Tell me how-”

“You know how!” Lucas shouted back, slamming his fists on the cold, metal table.

“I need to hear you say it.”

Lucas took another deep breath, then continued.

“There was an old snowmobile in his basement. After dragging him downstairs, I laid him on the floor, grabbed a nearby jack, raised it up, slid him under, and lowered it onto his head. The weight of the vehicle crushed his skull, but I was still filled with rage. The key was in the ignition, so I hopped on, started it, and cranked the throttle. As the treads spewed his blood across the wall behind me, I finally felt good. I felt that my father would be proud of me…”

I took a moment before saying anything to him. I had seen the crime scene, but the way his eyes lit up while talking about it was gut wrenching. He seemed so proud of this horrible thing he had done. It was as if he had hit a homerun at a baseball game and was proudly telling everyone of his achievement.

“What happened next, Lucas?”

“His parents came home.”

Lucas looked to the one-way mirror behind me, then back to me. A smile stretched across his face.

“I knew that they would find Reed dead in the basement, call the police, and that I’d never see my family again. So I killed them too.”

“How did you do it?”

“I walked up to the top of the stairs, holding onto the door handle tight. I heard Shaun’s father call for him. Then, the sound of him running upstairs. I heard his mother move to the base of the staircase and call to him. ‘Jim, maybe he’s downstairs. Want me to check?’ Shaun’s father came back down and said, ‘No, I’ll grab him. You can start dinner.’ I heard his mother walk into the kitchen. Shaun’s father came towards the basement door. When he tried to open it, I held on tight, trying to make him believe it was locked.”

He stopped talking. His gaze drifted down to the table, a smile still on his face. I think he was savoring the memory of the kill.

“Go on, Lucas.”

“I swung the door open,” he continued. “Smacking him in the face with it. I ran past him and into the kitchen, shoved Shaun’s mother to the ground, grabbed a large knife from one of the drawers, and went back to Mr. Walker. He was leaning against the wall next to the door, his nose bleeding. He looked up to me, horrified. ‘Lucas? What are you doing? Where’s Shaun?’ I didn’t answer him. Instead, I started stabbing him in the chest. Mrs. Walker ran in, grabbed me, desperately trying pull me away from her husband. I turned and slashed at her, catching her on the arm. She fell back and I continued to drive the knife into Mr. Walker, repeatedly. I didn’t much care for how he was looking at me at this point, so I dug the knife into his eyes as well.”

“What did you do to Mrs. Walker?”

“I stood up and turned to her. She backed up towards the wall behind her. She was screaming. It was so loud. I wanted her to stop, but not before making her suffer for trying to interrupt my kill. I drove the blade down through her leg. She screamed again. I began beating her, then stabbing her. Like Mr. Walker, I gouged out her eyes too, a matching set-”

I slammed my fists onto the table, stood up, and yelled.

“Tell me what you did next, Lucas! I want you to say it! To remind yourself of what you then decided to do to that poor woman!”

He was silent for a moment. He looked up to me, still smiling. Still so proud of what he had done to the Walkers. Happy that his sick, twisted father would be proud of what he accomplished.

“What did you do to her?” I asked in a calmer voice, looking into his eyes as intensely as I could.

“I defiled her.”

“Why?” I demanded.

“Mother said to always leave the women happy in the end.”

“You did all of this over some girl? A girl you will now never see again. You are going to spend the rest of your life locked up, underground, and alone. Your family won’t be able to get you out. Your lawyers won’t be able to get you out. What you did was too severe. You know that, right?”

“I don’t care.”

“You don’t care? You’re a dead man walking.”

“So? At least I had fun.”

He laughed. I turned away, no longer able to look at the sick and twisted, barely adult man that sat across from me. I heard a knock on the glass, looked up and nodded that I understood. Taking my seat again, Lucas looked me in the eye and gave me an insulting wink.

“Where is The Farm, Lucas?”

“Upstate in the forest. I’ll lead you to them if you want. Not because I want them caught, but because I know they won’t be. They’ll kill you and every agent you bring. My father is going to enjoy hanging your delimbed bodies from the trees. And don’t worry, my mother will treat you all very well.”

“You’re sick, you know that? We’re going to lock your whole family up, just you wait and see!”

“Even if you do manage to lock us all up, agent Monroe, you’ll never find your wife’s body. All your effort to catch us will be in vain. I’ll let you in on a secret, though. My whole family took turns on her and my father took a little souvenir.”

He let out another laugh, then looked at me with that twisted smile of his.

“Her head.”

I stood up abruptly, looking down at Lucas. I felt tears begin to form and roll down my cheeks. I turned to the one-way mirror, back to Lucas, and exited the room. Waiting for me in the hallway was my partner, agent Lasko. I pulled out my phone and called my wife. It went right to voicemail. I called again; still no answer. I wiped my face with my sleeve and Lasko placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

“We’re sending a team to your house now, just to be sure. If something’s happened, we’ll find her.”

“Thank you, Lasko.”

Lasko removed his hand from my shoulder. I followed him down the hall into one of the many open offices. I sat down at a table in the center of the room. Lasko went over to the coffee machine and filled a cup. He came over and placed it in front of me and then sat down in the chair on the other side of the table.

“The most important thing you can do right now is keep your head clear. I’ll follow your lead no matter how you want to do this, but don’t let your emotions drive your actions. What’s the play here, Monroe?”

I sat quietly for a moment, my hands wrapped around the mug, thoughts racing through my mind. Did they take her? Did they hurt her? Is it possible he just made it up? I closed my eyes and took a deep, calming breath. Lasko’s right. I gotta play it smart. If she’s in danger, I have to be careful.

“What do we have so far?”

“Well,” Lasko began. “We have the oldest son. He knows the location of The Farm. According to him, the whole family’s there. If your wife is missing, Director Vice is going to have you removed from the investigation. Whatever your plan is, we have to act now.”

I took another moment to think. There wasn’t enough time to plan a fleshed-out attack or even a backup plan if something were to go wrong. All there was time for was orders. Quick and concise. I looked up at Lasko.

“We’re gonna take Lucas into our custody. Gather a team of agents. Two cars worth. We’ll keep our coms on a closed circuit. By the time we hit the road, the team sent to my house will know whether or not she was taken. If she’s fine, we’ll let Director Vice know what we’re doing. We’ll be in some shit, but it should go relatively okay. If she’s gone, however, Vice will call and pull me off the case. He’ll have no choice but to send backup. He’s not gonna be able to pull me in the middle of an active pursuit.”

Lasko looked down at the table, let out a loud sigh, and looked back up at me.

“We’re going pretty far off the reservation with this one, Manroe.”

“Whatever we have to do to stop these psychopaths.”

Lasko went off to gather agents for our assault on The Farm. I retrieved Lucas from the investigation room and brought him down to the parking garage, placing him, cuffed, into the back seat. Lasko hopped into the passenger’s side a few minutes later. Once the other cars pulled up, we rolled out onto the street and headed for The Farm.

A little over an hour into the drive, I got the well expected call from Director Vice. My wife had been taken. I was ordered back to H.Q. As he said this, another agent’s voice could be heard in the background.

“He’s taken Lucas Noir and almost a dozen of our agents, sir. They’re heading to The Farm.”

Vice began screaming at me to turn around, but I hung up on him. Lasko looked at me, worryingly.

“You know Monroe, this better work. I got a pension I’d very much like to see one day.”

Another hour passed by.

“Pull in here. The dirt road on your left,” instructed Lucas from the back seat.

Slowly, we pulled off the main road and onto a dirt path in the woods. Another few minutes of driving, and we arrived at a large, black metal gate.

“We walk from here.” Lucas said. I turned around to see him smiling.

“I hope father put up the decorations.”

Next to the large gate blocking the road was a smaller gate that was ajar. One by one we went through. As we walked down the dirt road, a loud bang sounded off in the distance ahead of us. The agents drew their sidearms, and Lasko gripped the chains of the cuffs behind Lucas’ back. We had no idea what to expect. This family had committed unspeakable atrocities. Even knowing this, we were not ready.

Off in the distance, I saw another gate, wide open across the road. Hanging from the trees on either side were delimbed corpses. All of us but Lucas let out disgusted groans. One still had blood spilling from its wounds. They were stripped nude, heads shaved, and eyes gouged out. Strange symbols were etched into their stomachs. One was of a crescent moon. Another one depicted a ram’s head.

As we made our way through the second gate, the other agents carefully looking over the hanging corpses, Lucas let out a twisted laugh.

“I love when father decorates. His art is so beautiful!” Lucas spoke softly, mesmerized by the sight of the dangling bodies.

A little further up the road, a young girl sat in the dirt, crying with her back to us. She wore a dark red dress that was ripped up and muddy. She couldn’t have been more than thirteen or fourteen years old. I noticed that she had only one shoe. I motioned to the agents behind me to ready themselves in case anything was to happen. Slowly, I approached her.

“Are you okay?” I asked in as gentle a tone as possible.

She continued to cry. When I was close enough, I knelt beside her.

“What happened? How did a little girl like you end up all the way out here?”

She stopped crying. She turned her head, her eyes locking with mine. A smile, similar to Lucas’ stretched across her face. I stood up and backed away, cautiously drawing my firearm from its holster, readying myself. Once I saw her face, I recognized her immediately. Her name was Jessica Noir; the middle child of the family.

As she stood, revealing large knives in each hand, I motioned to the agents behind me to stand their ground. She began making her way towards me. I continued to back up. One of the agents came up beside me, asking what our next course of action should be. I wanted to take her alive. Avoid harming her as best we could.

Without warning, she rushed forward. Not at me, but at the agent to my left. He raised his gun to shoot, but her blades quickly found a home in either side of his neck. As he fell, his gun went off. The bullet dug into the ground, kicking up a mist of dirt. I tried to grab her, but she slashed at me, tearing open my shirt. Thankfully, I was wearing a Kevlar vest underneath my clothing, so the blade missed my skin. One of the other agents took a shot, grazing her leg. She winced in pain and quickly scuttled backwards across the road. A member of our group ran up and dragged the downed agent behind the others. We waited to see what she would do next.

She stood there, putting her weight almost entirely on her good leg, staring at us. She dropped her blades, fell to her knees, and let out an ear-splitting scream. Further up the road, we could hear what sounded like a large vehicle starting up. The small girl pulled out a device the size of her hand from a pocket in her dress. She clicked a button. Metal pikes, closely placed next to one another, shot up out of the dirt along the sides of the road. Any plan to escape into the woods was now gone. We turned to run for the gate behind us, but it had closed. One of the men ran to it, desperately trying to pull it open, but it was locked tight. We turned back to see something barreling down the road towards us, kicking up dust as it raced. It was a small school bus, painted black and red. Mounted on the front was a snow plow and protruding from its sides were long poles placed at varying heights, nearly touching the pikes on either side of the road. Each pole was wrapped in barbed wire.

As it flew towards us, we tried to shoot out the tires. All of our shots hit the dirt or the plow. Jessica smiled at us, stood up, walked into the middle of the road, closed her eyes, and lifted her head up to the sky. Still smiling, she reached her arms out, and spoke. The noise of the bus made it too difficult to hear, but I was able to make out what she said by reading her lips.

“I am today’s sacrifice. May the foes of my family meet a fate worse than mine.”

When the plow on the bus collided with Jessica Noir, she didn’t even let out a scream. The top of the plow dug into the back of her head, and her body fell under the speeding, modified bus. The blood-soaked vehicle was then headed our way. Lasko grabbed Lucas and together we ran to one side of the road and dropped to the ground. The barbed wire just barely scraped our backs. I looked back to see only two other agents follow our lead. The others were either hit by the bus directly, or mutilated and beaten down by the bus’s weaponized shafts.

The bus then collided with the gate, bringing it to an immediate halt. I looked back up the path to see Jessica’s flattened corpse, resting in a pool of blood. Cautiously, Lasko, Lucas, and I stood up. I made my way for the bus. I threw open the doors, gun pointed at the driver, ready to unload my clip. The driver, who was the youngest sibling of the family, John, was dead, his head laying on the steering wheel.

“Fuck, Monroe. Just like that, almost all our men are gone!” Lasko yelled at me, once again holding onto the chains of Lucas’ cuffs.

“I know. But there’s no stopping now. It’s just Mr. and Mrs. Noir left. We have to push forward.”

“Monroe. Even if we do come out on top of all this shit, we’re fucked! We got eight of our fellow agents killed!”

“I know that!” I screamed in Lasko’s face.

I lowered my gun, placed it back in its holster, and continued further up the road.

“You coming or not, Lasko?”

“I’m coming. C’mon kid. No way in hell we’re leaving you behind.”

“Good. I wanna watch my father rip your hearts out and eat them!” Lucas laughed, sinisterly.

As Lasko, Lucas, the two remaining agents, and I made our way further up the path, a large wood cabin became visible through the trees. Getting closer, we noticed someone standing out front. It was a woman. Mrs. Noir, by the looks of it. She wore a bright yellow dress with white flowers, a blossom-patterned red scarf tossed around her neck. In one hand she held a pocket watch. In the other, she held a scythe.

She started making her way towards us, her dress swaying side to side as she stepped closer. Lasko stopped walking, still holding on to Lucas. He pulled out his pistol and put it to Lucas’ temple. The two agents behind me unholstered there weapons and aimed them at Mrs. Noir. She stopped, looked at the weapon in her hand, running her fingers over the curved top of the blade.

“We’ve been expecting you, agent Monroe. Lucas; thank you for bringing our guests to us. I’ve been working alone in the yard all day. The company is a pleasing sight!”

“Fuck you, you psychopath! Where’s my wife?!” I yelled at her, keeping my gun steady, pointed at her head.

“Tell us now, or I’ll blow your son’s head off!” Lasko shouted, clearly frazzled by everything that had happened. He dug the muzzle of the gun deeper into Lucas’ temple. He scrunched his face up, clearly pained by the barrel.

Mrs. Noir smiled, looked each one of us in the eyes, then ducked down. Behind her, closer to the front door of the cabin, stood Mr. Noir. His hands wrapped around two large handles that were connected to a minigun set up on a tripod.

“What the fu-” One of the agents behind me shouted as bullets began flying through the air.

I dropped onto my stomach. Lasko shoved Lucas into the line of fire. He twirled around as bullets soared through his flesh. As he fell to the ground, a mist of blood spewed from his wounds. Lasko dropped to the ground just as the stream of bullets passed over him. I turned my head in the dirt to see the last two agents of our group motionless on the ground, laying in their own blood. Lucas landed nearby, droplets of red dripping from his twisted smile.

When the bullets ceased, Mr. and Mrs. Noir laughed. I looked up to the two of them hugging one another on the top step of the porch. Lasko and I remained still on the ground as Mr. and Mrs. Noir walked over to Lucas’ body. Mrs. Noir, holding the scythe in one hand, bent down and dug her index finger into one of the many bullet wounds in her son. She stood up, smiled at Mr. Noir, and smeared the blood across her face, laughing all the while.

I jumped to my feet and broke the silence.

“What the fuck is wrong with the two of you? Do you even realize what you’re doing? All your kids are dead! And now you’re painting your face with his blood? None of this fits the profile!”

“We don’t expect you to understand, little man.” Mrs. Noir said with a condescending tone.

Mr. Noir held his wife’s chin and turned her face towards his. He then offered us an explanation of sorts.

“We have seen the universe.” He began. “Many years ago, we were given a chance. A chance to see everything that has been, is, and will be. As a family, we took the universe’s outstretched hand and experienced infinity together. To you, it’s insanity. To us, it’s pure bliss. When you’ve looked into the eyes of oblivion and felt its cold stare on you, you come to realize that your existence is meaningless. So why not have fun with it?”

I tightened my grip on my gun, then pointed it at Mrs. Noir as the two stood there, looking deeply into one another’s eyes. Without hesitation, I squeezed the trigger. The bullet tore through the side of her head. As she fell to the ground, Mr. Noir didn’t move an inch. He remained motionless, staring happily in front of him where his wife once stood.

A moment passed, then he turned to me.

“Agent Monroe. Do you think you’ve hurt me? Like I said, life is entirely meaningless. Well, for us it was, I suppose. But you…”

In the blink of an eye, Mr. Noir pulled out a pistol from a holster hidden in his coat and then shot Lasko in the knee. He fell to the ground screaming, clutching the wound in agony. I moved over to him but was stopped by a second shot in the dirt by my feet.

“Normal people are so predictable. If someone you care about is hurt or in trouble, you jump into danger without a second thought on the matter. What does it matter if your fellow agent here gets shot, bleeds out, and dies? What does it matter if your wife was kidnapped, tortured, and murdered in a way you deem gruesome and inhumane?”

“What did you do to my wife?!”

“I’ll show you. Come with me. Your friend will be fine. Don’t worry about him.”

He turned and headed for the front door of the cabin. I looked to Lasko. He nodded at me, reassuring me he’d be fine. I then reluctantly followed Mr. Noir past the minigun and into the house.

The inside of the building was entirely empty. No furniture, pictures on the wall, wallpaper, or anything of the sort. Nothing but some wooden planks and a black marker laying in the center of the room.

I followed Mr. Noir down a set of stairs near the back of the house. Candles illuminated the staircase, leading us to a big open room at the bottom. Against the wall opposite the base of the stairs was a woman; strung up by chains, a bag over her head, and cuts traveling down the length of her body.

Danielle?

Mr. Noir made his way over to her and ripped the bag from her head.

It Is Danielle!

“Danielle!” I shouted, rushing towards her. Mr. Noir quickly raised his gun to my head.

“You don’t get to touch her. That’s the deal.”

“Fine. whatever you say, just please don’t hurt her anymore.”

“Hurt her? Ha! It’s not me who hurts her.”

“What?”

“Keith? Is that you?”

“Yes. Yes honey, it’s me!”

“How could you, Keith? How could you let them take me? I’m in so much pain. You were supposed to protect me.”

“I know, sweetie.” Tears made their way down my face. “I know.”

“Kneel.” Mr. Noir ordered in a firm voice.

I did as he demanded. My wife looked at me, beginning to cry. I looked at her. Then, Mr. Noir shot twice. One bullet dug through my left knee, the other grazing the side of my face. I fell backwards onto the cold concrete floor. My vision became hazy for a moment. Mr. Noir stood over me, leaning down into my face.

“This is how it ends, agent Monroe. You will lose everything. Your job, your freedom, and your wife.”

He turned and shot at Daniel. Her body went limp as blood began seeping out of her wounds. I screamed. Mr. Noir pinned my head to the floor using the barrel of his gun.

“This is the punishment I give to you, Monroe. Your wife is dead. You got all those other agents killed. You got your partner shot. Now, you must live with the burden. The guilt will boil inside of you for the rest of your life until you inevitably blow your own fucking brains out. The worst part? I’ll still be free. I’ll make my way out into the world, killing more people as I go, and you’ll live knowing it’s your fault because you couldn’t stop me.”

He walked by me, kicking my gun aside as I writhed in pain, stopping at the base of the stairs to look at me one last time before making his escape.

“You know, agent Monroe, I really did like that wife and kids of mine. They were my pride and joy; my favorite family to date. Now I have to go out and find a new one.”

He cackled and then winked at me.

“Perhaps you and I will meet again one day.”

 

CREDIT: R.L. Rogers

(Click HERE to check out Creepypasta’s official YouTube channel)

The post The Noir Family appeared first on Creepypasta.

Source:

SCARY STORIES

Creepy Pasta

by cnkguy
The Noir Family

Posted in Creepy Pasta and tagged by with no comments yet.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Close