It should have been her little brother that she was dragging after just having killed him and eaten his heart. Blood still fresh on her lips. Gore and flesh clinging to her fingernails. Instead it was just her little rag doll, torn and tattered from years of too much loving. Blood simulated with the lipstick she found in her mommy's drawer. Amazing how gory looking spaghetti can be when hanging from the shirt of an old rag doll.
Who knew where this new game would lead. A game she quickly became addicted to in those quiet moments when all alone. Times where she would re-enact heinous acts only imagined in her fertile little mind. Which would not have been bad, in and of itself.
If only she had left the neighbor's cat alone. But she bares the scars of that misadventure, cats not going quietly, armed as they are. Brother had better watch his back the cat was just a warm up. A way to try out thoughts, hone skills.
Others would make her list of not always failed experiments. Heaven help the birds that were too slow to evade her traps. And neighbors started complaining of pets gone missing. No evidence at all if you don't count the freshly turned earth in her small backyard.
A quiet neighborhood, really. Peaceful in fact. Little did they know how much peace was being disturbed in the little girl's basement. Normally a sanctuary for children who have free run of an overly large house. Not so this one, more like a mortuary, a collection of improvised instruments of pain, mutilation, dissection experimentation, torture and even death.
It should have been her little brother that she was dragging. All his teasing, all those years. Brothers can be so cruel. But now there may be a way to exact revenge.
Not that what he did was so out of the ordinary. I mean what little brother hasn't
pulled his sister's hair, or called her names. But does this justify the plans being spawned in her twisted little mind? Of how she will lure him to the basement trick him with a promise of some treat stolen as she often does from mother's pantry. How she will tie him up and gag him, not wanting to disturb the peace. How she will take delight watching the terror in his eyes as she approaches him, tool in hand. Which one will she start with...
Just then the alarm goes off. Oh look, it is time to get up and get ready for school. She loves school, especially the new creative writing class. She can hardly wait to get started on the Halloween assignment. Been dreaming about it all night.
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