He came in the room following the weeping five year old boy. Why was he weeping? Because the child was at gun point maybe. HE just had to laugh. The boy was trembling, that’s how he liked them scared. Always. The boy lead him into the main room, where the whole family was, Elizabeth, John, and now John Jr had come to join them, he didn’t know about the fourth, the fourth member was hardly known, neglected in some way perhaps.
He had badly done his homework, obviously.
The forth was hidden, from an earlier game of hide and seek, but he knew that no one would come and find him, they never did, so he remained uncovered. A coward. But a coward would never be able to watch what was to come and not go insane.
The youngest, his brother he saw him, running towards the cupboard, screaming. The elder son shaking his head, ‘No’, not wanting to be found, not this time. The elder boy jumped. A gun was heard, half of his brothers face blasted off. His face was gone, it shattered into tiny pieces of flesh that splattered on the cupboard and on the face of the only survivor. The only remaining family member. James. A name long since forgotten.
He heard his mum scream, and his father protest, two more bullets rang out, echoing off of the freshly painted walls.
This was what he lived for, the fear of others. The plotting, the planning, and the day it would all be revealed, it was not his first time. He was smart, yet smart enough to make mistakes. And a most valuable mistake at that. His parents had died in a similar way. Shot by their only son, his mother raped by her only son, and hung when she was still clearly alive, only just.
He smiled at his handiwork. First the boy then his parents. So heroic the way that John had dived in front of his wife, not knowing that none of them were to survive. He kicked the dead father, his body going limp from the force of his physicality.
His gaze diverted at the female. Lizzy, Liz or Elizabeth. To be honest he didn’t care. He grabbed her by the throat and thrashed the dead body against the wall. Removing his pants in lightening speed. Thrusting into her, burying himself beyond her lifeless walls. Ripping her walls, shedding already cold blood. Losing himself within her, letting himself go. Emptying his seed into her, as he had done his mother. The thrill was always the same, he could never get enough.
Dropping the body on the floor, like the rag doll she was. She had lost her looks the minute he took her, the girls always did. He would have done the child too, and their poor pathetic father, but he didn’t have time. He turned to leave, but stopped dead in his tracks. The feeling that he had missed something boiled within him. The cupboard.
He walked towards it, slowly. A new feeling rising in his veins. He was just about to open the ajar doors. But he knew, he heard the sirens whaling in the background. His plan had gone perfectly. Calling the police before anything, just to see if they’d come. Again it was for the thrill, the idea of getting caught. It aroused him. So he left, the thought of missing something was forgotten. He was never seen in the house or neighbourhood afterwards, no pattern arose.
The boy that had hidden, was found, shaking violently, refusing to tell anyone of the events. He was too scared of what might happen to him. Would they really believe him? He didn’t seem to think so. No one had ever believed him.
They sent him away. His name changed , not for protection, but because he refused to give anyone his true name. James, the name his parents had given him. His surname he kept. Howlett. The name the orphanage chose stuck with him. Logan. James Howlett had died the day his parents were killed, murdered. Days after, Logan Howlett had been born, had been named.
[Reviews - 18]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story |
Has been viewed 1641 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story | - Text Size +
You must login () to review.
