Yesterday had been very noisey. Mommy and Dad had insisted on getting rid of Anna, and Lianne threw a fit. She'd also broken a few toys before Mommy had put her foot down and said that if she didn't stop, there would be no trick-or-treating.
A few minutes after Dad drove off in the car with the doll, it was okay again. Anna was with her. In her head.
She had gotten TONS of good candy while trick-or-treating! Lots of Snickers and Three Musketeers and Sixlets and ... but Mommy got the way she always did and wouldn't let her eat as much as she wanted. That was a couple of hours ago, no.
Lianne pattered in her bootie PJs down the steps from her bedroom to the kitchen. It took a couple of minutes to move a kitchen chair over to the counter. She climbed up onto the chair and pulled open the drawer. The bright metal flashed in the light from the outside street lamps, but Lianne’s red eyes didn’t even look at the utensil after she picked it up. She carefully clambered down off the chair and headed back upstairs.
“Mommy?” her quiet voice called into her parents’ bedroom.
Lisa-Marie only barely woke. “Mmm?”
Lianne crept into the room. “Can I come sleep with you?”
Her mother mumbled something positive, and Lianne climbed up onto the bed.
The little girl carefully lay the butcher knife across her mother’s throat and pushed. The sharp, sharp blade sliced her esophagus and both blood vessels almost instantly. Lisa-Marie tried to gasp, to cry out, but only a bubbling, whistling sound escaped her. Lisa-Marie's hands flew to the wound as if to try and hold her slit throat closed. But the demon possessing her daughter was far too thorough, too careful in its placement of the cut. Even before her thrashing around had a chance to wake her husband, their little girl turned to do the same to him.
A quick trip out to the garden shed brought back the half-full gas can that daddy used to keep the lawn mower running. She left it in the two-story entry room at the front of the house. The little girl walked back upstairs to get at the vacuum cleaner mommy always kept in the hallway closet.
Lianne had to work hard to roll Daddy’s office chair across the entry room’s carpet. The seven year old worked in silence with an evil glint in her eyes, but somewhere in the corners the girl’s terrified screams could be seen … if only there was a witch nearby. There was not. Eventually the chair stood under the bannister upstairs, directly under the knotted electric cord dangling down from the upper level.
Lianne opened up the gas can and started pouring it out all over the rug in a pattern with points and curved lines. She left the gas can at the door and tipped it over onto its side, letting the remaining fuel pour out. Lianne climbed up into the seat, stood on the edge and reached to pull the loop of the rubber-coated wiring around her neck. Red eyes turned to daddy's zippo and she opened and ignited the device with care. A tiny whimper escaped her before her face turned cruel again. “Never trust a talking doll, kid," came out of Lianne's mouth as she spoke to the otherwise empty room. "We always lie. Cthulhu fthagn.”
The little girl kicked herself off the chair’s seat to hang from the bannister. It tipped over and the zippo fell from her fingers. The gasoline-soaked rug lit immediately to burn in a pattern some called the Astral Elder Sign. Fear and fire lit her eyes as Tossyrth the demon jumped out to leave Lianne to burn and strangle. The Fire department would not save any of the family.
Yesterday had been very noisey. Mommy and Dad had insisted on getting rid of Anna, and Lianne threw a fit. She'd also broken a few toys before Mommy had put her foot down and said that if she didn't stop, there would be no trick-or-treating.
A few minutes after Dad drove off in the car with the doll, it was okay again. Anna was with her. In her head.
She had gotten TONS of good candy while trick-or-treating! Lots of Snickers and Three Musketeers and Sixlets and ... but Mommy got the way she always did and wouldn't let her eat as much as she wanted. That was a couple of hours ago, no.
Lianne pattered in her bootie PJs down the steps from her bedroom to the kitchen. It took a couple of minutes to move a kitchen chair over to the counter. She climbed up onto the chair and pulled open the drawer. The bright metal flashed in the light from the outside street lamps, but Lianne’s red eyes didn’t even look at the utensil after she picked it up. She carefully clambered down off the chair and headed back upstairs.
“Mommy?” her quiet voice called into her parents’ bedroom.
Lisa-Marie only barely woke. “Mmm?”
Lianne crept into the room. “Can I come sleep with you?”
Her mother mumbled something positive, and Lianne climbed up onto the bed.
The little girl carefully lay the butcher knife across her mother’s throat and pushed. The sharp, sharp blade sliced her esophagus and both blood vessels almost instantly. Lisa-Marie tried to gasp, to cry out, but only a bubbling, whistling sound escaped her. Lisa-Marie's hands flew to the wound as if to try and hold her slit throat closed. But the demon possessing her daughter was far too thorough, too careful in its placement of the cut. Even before her thrashing around had a chance to wake her husband, their little girl turned to do the same to him.
A quick trip out to the garden shed brought back the half-full gas can that daddy used to keep the lawn mower running. She left it in the two-story entry room at the front of the house. The little girl walked back upstairs to get at the vacuum cleaner mommy always kept in the hallway closet.
Lianne had to work hard to roll Daddy’s office chair across the entry room’s carpet. The seven year old worked in silence with an evil glint in her eyes, but somewhere in the corners the girl’s terrified screams could be seen … if only there was a witch nearby. There was not. Eventually the chair stood under the bannister upstairs, directly under the knotted electric cord dangling down from the upper level.
Lianne opened up the gas can and started pouring it out all over the rug in a pattern with points and curved lines. She left the gas can at the door and tipped it over onto its side, letting the remaining fuel pour out. Lianne climbed up into the seat, stood on the edge and reached to pull the loop of the rubber-coated wiring around her neck. Red eyes turned to daddy's zippo and she opened and ignited the device with care. A tiny whimper escaped her before her face turned cruel again. “Never trust a talking doll, kid," came out of Lianne's mouth as she spoke to the otherwise empty room. "We always lie. Cthulhu fthagn.”
The little girl kicked herself off the chair’s seat to hang from the bannister. It tipped over and the zippo fell from her fingers. The gasoline-soaked rug lit immediately to burn in a pattern some called the Astral Elder Sign. Fear and fire lit her eyes as Tossyrth the demon jumped out to leave Lianne to burn and strangle. The Fire department would not save any of the family.
((Happy Halloween!))