by S. R. Rashad
“You once said you believe I must be dangerous, doc. Remember! Do you remember that, you bastard” I say as I bend down to retrieve his knife “Well, it seems I am!” I shout half crying, half filled with the joy of righteous anger as I slit his throat with his knife.
He turns off the light in the attic, heads down stairs, walks around in the huge empty house, feeling sorrowful, hurt and mournful. He clutches one of her first journals where he finds the mad writing of a confused, hurting twelve year old, just pity inducing stuff. He walks down to the cellar, unlocks the door, turns on the lights and approaches his mother in her caged prison.
“Mother, are you awake?”
She turns to face him, opening her one good eye, as he tried to save the other, but after dragging her here from the lake and removing the jagged rock the was stuck in her face, he could see it was of no use. Even if he were to get it back in her head, he would have no way of reattaching it, not to mention how fucked up and damaged the eye was any way. So he just bandaged her face and left her to heal, best she could, but not before locking her in her new prison.
“Chuckie, my boy.” She says excitedly,which quickly turns to anger, squinting like a one eyed pirate, she sees he’s holding something that is extremely familiar and important to her.
“Chuck!” She yells. “What is that? What do you have in your hands, boy!”
“Mother, the things you and uncle put yourselves through, why?”
“Why? You know why. Because we are VonNetzers.”
“Well, so was grandfather and he didn't do any of these things.”
“Your grandfather was weak, Chuckie. We loved him of course, but he was weak.”
“Mother, I feel I am like grandfather. I don't think this behavior is right. There is something horribly wrong here."
"Chuck, Chuckie my sweet sweet boy. You are mistaken. Peter and I are fine. We love you and your brother and sister so much. Now, please. Let me out of this cage."
"I don't know mother. I just don't know." He says softly, in pain and confused. He turns, walks away from his mother, turning off the lights and heading up stairs.
Nancy yells from her cage at him in the dark.
"Chuckie, Chuckie my boy, my sweet...mother still loves you."
As the blade cut into Peter's neck, he ripped his hand violently free from the knife that was pinning him to the tree. Still looking at Laura with his cold piercing, enraged eyes, he clutched his throat fiercely, trying to stop the bleeding in his neck, while stumbling toward Laura as if he had one last attack in him, then falling to the ground. Laura watched the monster fight the oncoming death as he gasped for life. She was hoping to feel more satisfaction, more pleasure, but there was none and as his cold eyes looked up to her, even in this state, there was still something eery about him. She had had enough. Besides, she wasn't like him. She found no pleasure in watching him die. She didn't need to see anymore. She turned away. Then she looked over, filled with love and immense sadness, at the lifeless body of her friend, her reason for being there and her reason for searching for a better part of herself, a forgotten part of herself, for the old Laura and a newer Laura as well. She gently embraced her friend one last time, thanking her and vowing never to forget her or her sacrifice. She headed off and away from that place, away from all of it. For this chapter of her life was over. And something new was about to emerge. What was to come she didn't know, but she welcomed it.
The dwarf missed all the killings, all the slaughter. He comes outside to see the remains of the carnage and he is overwhelmed, over come by grief and hatred. He is hating the depravity of his sick sick family. He walks around the property collecting the bodies and cleaning up the mess, as he always seems to do. And he sees the lord trouble maker laying there motionless with his throat slashed probably dead. Not really caring either way, he drags him to the house, like he did his mother just a short while ago, but never truly checking to see if he were alive or dead. He pushes his body down into the cellar with all the forgotten things.