This is my first shot at a short story in a long time. First shot at a horror-themed story and I'm pretty uncertain that I got the pacing down, so any criticism is greatly appreciated.

“I see you brought your famous brownies again, Marsha.” Paul was smiling at her and eagerly eyeing the pan she was placing on the refreshments table. “Famous” might have been a stretch, most people liked chocolate and who would turn down a brownie? All the same, she smiled back at him amiably.
The classroom was half full of parents milling around, chatting politely and waiting for the meeting to get started. Marsha looked around the room, happy to see that at least one parent of each seventh grader was present; this was an important year for the kids and they all needed to work together to make sure each child was in good hands. One man caught her eye. He was new to the school, to the area, in fact, and she was a little surprised that he had attended tonight. From the little she knew of him and his family, they had moved because of the economy and both he and his wife had to take lower-paying jobs because that's what was available. Those kinds of jobs usually had weird hours, but it seemed that he had managed to take the night off and be present.
A flash of movement caught her eye and she realized the host of the meeting had arrived Eric was a somber man, slow to smile but thoughtful and pleasant enough. She had leaned on him for support a great deal when her oldest daughter was in seventh grade. That had been an especially hard year, losing her partner and becoming a single mother to a teenager and a nine-year-old. Eric had helped her through it, offering companionship and a willing ear to listen as she raged against her fate. Straightening her cardigan on her shoulders, Marsha crossed the room and greeted her friend warmly and felt her cheeks flush a little when he rewarded her with a rare smile.
“Everyone's made it tonight,” she remarked.
“Yeah, good thing too, tonight's going to be tough.”
She glanced at him, then felt her eyes fall upon the new parent. His name was Warren, she thought. “Is it his turn?” She turned to Eric, surprise painted on her face, “He's barely been here three months! Why should it be him this time?”
“Marsha,” he regarded her wearily, “you know how it works. We all get a chance, everyone has the same odds of getting picked. It just happens to be Warren this year. Probably a good thing too, his daughter is kind of a handful.”
Marsha could picture the girl, long-limbed, freckled and shy. She had come to Marsha's home a few times to study with her son, always had good manners and more than anything, seemed in need of a friend. She was a perfect target in this school, where her classmates were boisterous and competitive, always vying to be first in everything they did. Still, it didn't seem fair to choose Warren.
Eric excused himself from her side and went to the front of the classroom by the chalkboard, calling for everyone's attention. The adults stopped conversing and began to take their seats in the circle of chairs arranged in the middle of the room. Eric took his place in the center of the circle and began the meeting.
“Evening, everyone,” he nodded to them, “it's good to see you all here. It looks like we have a good bunch of kids this year and I know that I'm looking forward to seeing great things from them. I won't take up too much time, I know we've all got to get home so we can pack lunches and get ready for tomorrow.” He paused, just as he had done so many years in a row at these meetings, and clasped his hands. “I'm sure everyone here has had a chance to meet Warren,” he gestured to the man, fidgeting with his jacket zipper, who looked up and smiled shyly at the room. “Warren is this year's honor roll parent,” Eric went on. There was a murmur around the room, some adults looking at him with gladness, others suddenly stony faced. “Let's make sure we all give him our support and help him in whatever he needs,” Eric said firmly, “Warren, why don't you come up here so we can get started?”
The newcomer rose to his feet, carefully placing the jacket on his chair and running a hand through sandy-brown hair as he joined the host in the middle of the circle. He shuffled a little and smiled. “Thank you for your support,” he said to his fellow parents, “it's meant a lot to Nancy and me that you've welcomed us into your community.” Marsha frowned as she watched him. He seemed lost, as if he wasn't sure of what to say or what to do. Had she been that nervous when she was chosen for the honor roll? She couldn't remember, tried not to these days. It just made her think of Kate when she did.
The room was silent, everyone waiting and the air filling up with anxiety and urgency. Warren shuffled a little more, mumbled a few half-formed sentences and looked at Eric, who had produced a necklace with a tiny silver hammer from his shirt. “Let's bow our heads and offer a prayer,” he said, waiting for everyone to do so before raising his hands. From beneath her lashes, Marsha could see Warren looking around, confused, shifting his feet in small circles. His behavior was out of place, it wasn't appropriate to look at other people or move around during prayer. From either side of her, she could feel rustling of agitated parents, obviously thinking the same thing. Eric didn't pause, but began softly speaking the prayer, ignoring the man fidgeting beside him.
“He knows what's going on, right?” Hannah, a younger woman sitting to Marsha's right, whispered.
The thought struck her like a brick. “Of course he does,” she whispered vehemently back, “he has to. He wouldn't have been chosen and then not told.” But her last sentence faltered at the end, as doubt soaked into her words. What if he had no idea what was about to happen? The thought was too horrible to consider, but was that why he looked so confused?
Eric finished the prayer and everyone raised their heads. Marsha could seem the same concern and doubt growing over their faces as Warren grinned sheepishly.
“I didn't realize this community was so religious,” he laughed uncomfortably.
“Prayer is necessary to ensure that the chosen person is accepted,” Eric responded, eyes dark and dead. “Prayer is also necessary for our cleansing.” There was an edge of fear and panic in the new parent's expression, but before he could ask questions, the leader of the meeting nodded at two men who rose and went to the closet. Any questions Warren had died in his mouth as the men lead Nancy, his wife, out of the closet. Her hands were tied behind her back and there was a cloth hood over her head. Marsha could hear tiny whimpers coming from beneath the bag and had to turn away for a moment.
Warren's mouth fell open and in one terrible second everyone in the room realized that he truly didn't know what was happening. No one had told him about the ritual, or why he had been chosen. Marsha locked eyes with Hannah who looked terrified, but neither of them could manage words. They turned back to Nancy being walked into the center of their chairs. Warren finally found his voice and shouted, “What the fuck is going on? Nancy! Why is she tied up? Who the fuck are you freaks?”
Eric's face had gone a few shades paler. He had been leading these groups for several years, since before Marsha had gone through it. Not much surprised or threw Eric anymore, but not informing the chosen parent and their partner was unheard of. Eric held up his hands toward Warren and tried to keep his voice low and calming. "Warren," he soothed, "I'm sorry that no one told you or Nancy about this, truly, but we don't have time now to explain everything. If we don't start the ritual soon…" he trailed off as everyone in the room fell quiet. The consequences were too horrible to consider.
The terrified husband stood stock still for a moment, looking around at the faces he had spent the last few months getting to know. Suddenly, he lunged forward toward his wife, struggling with one of the men standing next to her. "No, don't let him get her free!" Eric screamed as Warren swung at the man and landed a hard blow to his jaw, sending him to the floor. Marsha watched in terrified paralysis as everything happened at the same time. The second man tried to hold Warren off while shoving Nancy away, though he was no match for the frenzied strength Warren now displayed. There was a loud bang as a gun went off and then Nancy's husband was on the floor, bleeding out. The surrounding screams and shouts died down as all the parents stared at the dying man. Marsha found she could move again and quickly rushed to Nancy, unbinding her hands and removing the hood. Hannah ran over as well and together they held the keening woman back as she tried to reach her husband.
"Why? Why did you kill him?" Nancy wailed, looking from one person to another. "You're sick, all of you! What is this?"
The threat abating for the time being, Eric regained his composure and walked over to kneel before the woman. "Nancy," he said quietly, "Nancy, listen to me. It had to be done, our children were in danger."
This made her mouth close and she stared at him with wide eyes.
"Yes, Nancy," he assured her, "our children. Each year, when the kids reach puberty we have to make an offering. As the parents, we feel we must sacrifice one of ourselves to protect our children."
Nancy stared at him, and croaked, "An offering?"
"That's right. Kids this age, they are the most vulnerable to outside forces. We have to protect them, otherwise we could have a very bad situation on our hands. It happened once…a girl much like your little girl was taken. So many children died that year…" he trailed off, watching his words sink into her dazed brain. "But if one of us dies for the kids each year, we can keep them safe."
The dazed woman's face crumpled in fear and sorrow. "Keep them safe..from what?" she whispered.
Eric hesitated, but was saved from answering when a vibration spread through the room, shaking their bones. Everyone turned to look at Warren's body which had finally expelled the last of its life. One by one, with childish giggles, grieving sobs and terrible laughter, dark arms that seemed to be made of oily shadows emerged from the carpeted floor and grasped at the corpse. Swiftly they tore it apart, clutching their treasures of flesh as they disappeared into the carpet again, only to reemerge and claim another hunk. Each piece they grabbed made a cracking, ripping sound as they tore through muscle and bone. The giggles rose, childish and sing-song. It all sounded as if they were in a playground and still the hands tore Warren's corpse apart ruthlessly.
Marsha was sure that she heard Kate's voice tickling her ear as she watched. Each year since her partner's death, she had heard it, but it gave her no comfort. Kate had become one of them.
Nancy choked back her wails, white faced and wild eyed. Her husband's face was pulled away until only the cracked bones of his face, revealing a gruesome smile beneath. Everything was over in a matter of minutes, the horrifying babble and whispering dying down as the hands slowly receded. When the last slithering arm melted back into the carpet with Warren's heart, the final piece they had left, Eric turned back to Nancy.
"We keep them safe from our past offerings and the children we lost," Eric said softly, then he bowed his head and sobbed quietly.
Marsha touched Nancy's shoulder gently and said, “Now, you're one of us.”