Sinister Tales

The Babysitter

"You care too much sometimes." Martha teased her mom.

"Or maybe you just don't care enough." She took another bite of her ice cream. "Alright, lets go. It's babysitting time." Laura took both empty ice cream cups and ditched it into a nearby trashcan.

"And what are you going to do while I'm babysitting?"

"Go out. Take a walk. Enjoy the night air, something like that. Maybe I'll find me a date." She winked.

"Ew, gross mom." Martha crinkled her face in disgust.

The two drove the rest of the way in silence, too occupied with their own minds to even care what the other was thinking. Soon enough they pulled up in front of a two-story house. "This is the house, right?" Martha looked at her mom for an answer. Laura nodded, watching Martha walk up the cobblestone path walkway to the front door. She pressed the doorbell, a tune echoing throughout the house. A slim blonde woman opened the door wearing a blue fitting dress reaching above her knees with black stilettos. "I'm Martha."

The blonde woman let her in, grabbing at her black clutch and sticking her phone in it.

"I'm Carly. Randal and Patrick are in the upstairs room. They need to be in bed by nine. Number to my cell is on the fridge if you need me." Carly rushed her speaking while heading for the front door. Before leaving, she looked back at Martha. "Do not forget to lock the door behind me." Her voice was stern. "Oh yeah, here's your money." She handed over five, one hundred dollar bills and Martha stuffed it in her pocket.

Martha followed Carly. "Have a good night." She said before she closed the door and locked it as she was ordered to do.

Then she walked towards the wall clock looking at the time. 8:31 the clock read. Martha walked up the stairs, guessing which room belonged to the boys. The first door on the right had a dry erase board on it with writing on it. Randal's and Patrick's room. She walked in to see one of the boys with dirty blonde hair running around the room with toys in his hand. The brunette brother sat on his bed reading a book.

"Hey guys, I'm your babysitter." Martha stood in the frame of the door. "My name's Martha."

The rowdy kid ran up to her with a huge grin on his face. "I'm Randal." Then he pointed to his brother who sat on the bed. "That's Patrick." He got closer to Martha. "He's a party pooper." He tried to whisper but his words came out louder than expected.

"I'm sure that's not true."

"It is. All he does is sit there and read." Randal looked over at his brother.

"Maybe reading is fun to him. I like to read, does that make me a party pooper?" She placed her hands on her hips waiting his response. He looked up at her, not knowing what to say then ran off to play with his toys again. "Bed time at nine." She mentioned before leaving the room. She could hear the sounds of Randal's groaning as she left the room.

Martha plopped on the couch then turned on the tv with the remote. She was about to switch the channel until the news channel caught her attention. The overly botoxed woman anchor spoke with the same placid expression on her face. "Another victim claimed in this murder spree that has shocked the small town of Gibsonton. This makes it victim number seventeen. Authorities suggest you stay indoors and lock any windows or doors. No suspects have been made at this time, if you have any information that will be helpful or see any suspicious activity please report it to the police. What's your take on this story, John?"

The male anchor turned towards the woman to speak, "Well, Joanna, I hope they catch the culprit. They're sick and need to be put away for life."

"I think the thing that makes it harder to catch the person is they don't target certain people. They've attacked adults, teens, and kids." Joanna explained.

"I heard the serial killer takes at least one finger of their victims. I mean, who does that? What would you need with a fi-"

The sound of stomping down the stairs caused her to turn off the tv before the pair of feet could make it to the bottom.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Martha asked Randal who stood at the bottom of the stairs, wiping his eyes.

"Larry won't let me sleep." He pouted.

"Larry?" She asked.

"He's my friend."

"You're imaginary friend?" He stood there looking at her with a blank expression. "Never mind, I'll be up in a second to help you go to sleep."

Randal shook his head, understanding her words then ran up the stairs to his room. He jumped into his bed waiting for Martha to come up and tuck him into his bed. Moments later, Martha walked into the dark room and sat on Randal's bed.

"Where's Larry?" She asked in a hushed tone. Randal pointed behind her and she turned around to see no one there, but still spoke. "Look Larry, you need to leave Randal alone so I can help him go to sleep." She turned to the young boy. "Better?"

"Yeah." He smiled.

"Now time to help you sleep." She smiled down back at him then pulled out a knife from her back pocket, stabbing it into his chest while she covered his mouth with her other hand. Screams muffled into her hand as blood soaked his pajamas. The knife slid out of his skin and she stabbed it back in, listening to the knife break through his skin and enjoying the muffled sounds of his agony. "Hush little baby, go to sleep." She sung as she tucked the blanket under his dying body. By the time she went over to Patrick, life no longer remained in Randal's eyes.

"Hush little baby, don't make a sound." She sang in an angelic way, waking Patrick up as she stroked his brunette hair.

"Huh?" He got out before the knife went plunging into his chest.

He squirmed against the knife, screaming into her palm louder than Randal did. Patrick received more stab wounds than his younger brother, mainly out of frustration of his continuous screams. "Shut up!" She screamed at him. His head dropped to the side, she checked his pulse to find none.

Then her hand grabbed his and began to cut at the flesh and bone until his finger went falling to the ground. She did the same to Randal before calling her mother on the house phone in the house.

"I'm already outside, I had faith you'd be done by now." Her mother spoke into the phone as she answered the phone.

Martha walked out of the house and to her mother's car.

"Do you got it?" Laura asked her daughter.

"Here." She nodded her head, handing the severed fingers to her mother. There was a proudness in her mom's eyes.

"It'll go nicely with the others." She smiled.

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed it. Sorry it took me a little bit to post this, but it's here now. :)