Stolen Blood

The worst of kills

After a long run through the forest I made back to my house. It took longer than I thought it would, considering the last time I went I was following Jeff, who knew the forest better than I do. I looked up at my window where I saw it was still open. Luckily, it stopped raining so my room should be soaked or anything. I climbed up the side of the building and made it back into my room. But when I was getting my other foot in, I tripped and landed face first on the floor. A painful sting came to the bottom of my stomache, for when I hit the ground, it made a loud bang. I quickly got up and stood there frozen for a few seconds, listening for any foot steps heading this way. When a minute has passed, I relaxed and sighed in relief. I sat down on my bed and yawned. I checked my digital clock on my night stand, to see it was five in the morning. I rubbed my tired worn-out eyes. I was still gripping the knife when I slumped  down on my pillow. My eyelids grew closer and closer together at every second I blinked. Before I knew it, I passed out. Leaving a "happy" day behind me.

My eyes quickly shot open to a terrible shriek. I hesitated to sit up, when I did. My muscle reflects reacted, once again, and I threw my bloody knife at the wall. Where it stuck there, just inches away from my mother sickened face.

"Mertha, how could you." my mother shrieked once more. Anger was brewing inside me, not only that but the erge and blood lust was brought back to the surface once more. My mother ran out the room and dashed into the next room. Thousands of thoughts ran through my head. She's going to call the cops. She was going to turn me in. If she does that, then she must have stop caring. And if she stopped caring then she must not love me anymore.

Seconds later, hatred and and insanity was the only thing I could feel now. A grin crept across my face as I thought of what I was going to do next. I pried the knife out of the wall and slowly walked down the hall to my parents room. When I got there, my mom was standing just in front of my father, with her back facing me. Neither of them noticed I was there. My mom was rapidly speaking, she was shaking and her voice was stuttery. I barely made out she was saying. But what I did made out was stuff like "Our daughter killed those people" and "How could we have raised her wrong.". But the room fell into a dead silence when I stabbed my mother in the back and she screamed then she fell to the floor just barely alive. I retrieved the knife from her back and my father watched as I looked at him with the creepy grin. He didn't say anything, he just tried to back away, reaching for his phone. The same thought I had for my mother were now on him. Then; with a flick of a wrist, my knife plunged  in his forehead. Blood spirted all over the wall. 

I got my knife out of my fathers forehead and walked out of the room. I stared down the stairs, the feeling of blood lust was still unsatisfied. Then I heard sound of books falling to floor just behind me. I slowly turned my head to see my brother Mikey.

"M-Mertha." Mikey stuttered. My grin on face was still there, along with my blood spattered face, and narrowed eyes. Once again, I threw my knife at him, and it stuck right in his chest. He fell to the floor in pain. I walked over to him and dug the knife deeper in his chest. He hissed and grunted in pain. Then in one move, I ripped the knife and held to his neck.

"How about you take a trip somewhere. How about... to Hell." And with that. I slit his throat and he laid there dead. I stood there over my dead brother, smiling over the joy of killing. I chuckled under my breathe as I slowly walked back to my room. I was still very tired, for I only slept for three hours. In an instant. I fell on my bed and fell asleep.