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Chapter 4 - A Mother’s loving knife

Everything was eerily silent, he could hear the creak of an opened window in the hallway. The hours past and a cold dark night breezed by, and soon he heard a knock.

"Mom's here my little baby, open up~"

James could feel the bloodlust through the door.

"Jameson... open up, I have something to show you. Now open the door."

James had nothing to say but, no.

"Well, I'll just have to claw you out won't I?"

His mother laughed to herself and the next thing James knew it a knife stabbed the door. She kept clawing at the door, and soon the hole was big enough to poke her head through. Like the shining, she smiled. Mother removed her head and put her arm through the hole. The brown wooden door stabbed her but she felt nothing. Mother opened the door. Her arms mangled, her face crooked, her clothing all bloody, and a knife protruding from her leg, but she smiled with content like she had accomplished her life goals. Mother brought Jameson to the living room and what stood there was two bodies cut open, it was all gore. the smell of blood filled the air. The two mangled bodies conjoined together, and in the moment of silence a calm and happy voice spoke aloud.

"Would you like to join them, darling?"

As soon as James could even turn around a sharp pain dulled his senses, it was a knife from the kitchen, the one he used to make his sandwich. All he could hear was mother's laugh.

His blood splattered onto the orange wall, his blood danced around his body spinning and twirly like a ballerina. James spoke aloud.

"I always loved you, mother. see you in hell."

With that, his vision darkened his body was a hue like that of snow, his blood gushed from his pores. A viscous syrup like liquid flowed from his eyes the pair of which were dull like a used blade. James' heart was slowing and his lips blue like berries. Jameson was dead, face first on the brown and blood stained carpet. All the while she watched from on high an ominous figure in the den of night, a killer of men, mother.