Mary-Jane was fully aware of the implications whenever her father's door flared open; it signaled the moment to hunt. Rising quietly from her bed, she ambled down to the basement with an unsettling calmness. The wooden flooring bore the distinct marks of her footsteps, staining it a deep crimson.
"I just took a bath," she mumbled, her irritation surfacing as she carefully navigated the increasingly soiled steps. Upon reaching the cellar, her hand reached for the railing when a piercing shriek abruptly shattered the silence.
"SOMEONE HELP ME!" a woman's voice cried out, echoing against the basement walls.
Mary-Jane stood, her eyes locking onto the terrified woman in front of her. The palpable fear radiating from the stranger was unmistakable.
"No one's coming to help you," Mary-Jane replied, a tinge of mockery laced in her tone.
The woman stared at her, bewildered by the child's small stature amidst the unfolding horror.
"Little girl, aren't you frightened by what you're seeing?" the woman questioned, her voice trembling.
Mary-Jane simply shook her head, her concern for the woman evident.
"If you keep quiet, Daddy won't hurt you," she assured, attempting to provide some solace.
As the words slipped from her lips, the woman's expression froze in an unsettling stillness.
Then, the door swung open again, and a male voice pierced through the tension.
"Is she still alive?" Mary-Jane's father asked, his tone charged with agitation.
Mary-Jane turned to the woman, gazing into the depths of her brown eyes.
"Yes, Daddy," she replied emphatically.
She could hear her father muttering curses under his breath as he entered the room, his glare fixated on the woman.
"Your bones will be promising once I eviscerate you like a fish," he sneered, the malice evident in his words.
The woman swallowed hard, her face draining of color as fear enveloped her.
"Why are you doing this?" she cried in desperation.
Her father chuckled darkly, pulling a butcher knife from his pocket.
"Because it's fun," he answered, his sneer widening.
He brought the knife up to the woman's throat, the blade glinting ominously in the low light.
Attempting to break free from his grasp, the woman squirmed but found no success.
"GET AWAY FROM ME!" she shrieked, narrowly missing a strike at him.
With a tight grip on her neck, her father squeezed calmly and deliberately, savoring the fear he instilled.
"You are one of the worst victims I've had," he proclaimed, tightening his hold until she struggled to breathe.
"PLEASE LET ME GO!" she pleaded, her voice cracking with desperation.
Without a moment's hesitation, he slashed her abdomen, blood spattering across the floor, marking the finality of her existence.
Afterward, he hoisted the lifeless body and carried it to the washroom, handling it with a chilling nonchalance.
Carefully, he laid her down in the shower, then donned gloves, tending to her wound to stem the blood flow.
Turning on the shower head, he discarded her bloodied clothes, turning the scene into a macabre cleansing.
Suddenly, he glanced at his daughter, whose wide eyes reflected horror and confusion.
"Jane, will you please preheat the oven to two hundred degrees?" he asked with eerie normalcy. Mary-Jane nodded, retreating up the stairs, her mind dissociating from the grisly events she had just witnessed.