Before Lisa made the first stab, she watched her father’s eyes lose their light as he lay disfigured at the bottom of the stairs. Lisa kissed him on the nose, then put her ear to his stomach. She sucked a green pacifier in and out of her mouth and listened to her father’s belly gurgle. Only when she was bored with this did she carve out his insides with the sharpened Barbie leg in her two-year-old hand. When she was done she clapped her hands in glee and looked around for sissy. When Lisa didn’t see her, she began to wail.
Three blocks down the street Lisa’s twin sister, Miranda, walked behind Auntie Barb. Without knowing it, the children had killed their parents at the exact same times. Miranda had gone for the simple and clean trachea grab, using her teeth to rip out her mother’s throat. Blood drenched her hands and face.
Auntie Barb was delighted to have a child around. It had been so long since there was a child in her life. The last one was her niece, Amber, and that was at least twenty years ago. The appearance of little Miranda was a good omen. It meant that Auntie Barb’s search for her niece was going to be fruitful. Besides, she’d already gotten a free scalp from the deal. At that moment Auntie Barb wore the mother’s blond scalp.
“How old are you, Miranda?” Auntie Barb kept her strides short, so the little girl could keep up with her. She could pick the girl up, but the feisty thing might try to rip her throat out, and then she’d have to kill her. Auntie Barb didn’t want to kill Miranda.
Miranda held up two fingers covered in blood.
They were approaching a hill, and Barb knew hills made her wheeze, so she wanted to get the small talk out of the way before they reached it.
“Why’d you kill your mommy?”
The girl looked up at her. “Mommy want to sell me.”
“To whom?”
“The bad men behind the store.”
Auntie Barb understood. She’d found the child near the Applebees. That’s where the Satanists hung out. If the girl had been exhibiting abilities that could be construed as evil, the Satanists would pay good money for her.
“Well, I’m sorry that happened to you. She can’t sell you now.”
The girl nodded. They reached the beginning of the hill. Residential homes stood on each side, and the roadway was strewn with abandoned cars, rotting corpses, and various riffraff. Auntie Barb had a shotgun in her bag if anything wandered near them.
But Miranda stopped. She began to cry. It was a sorrowful noise, and loud. Auntie Barb decided to risk injury and picked up the child. The girl was heavier than she looked, and smelly. She tried her best to hug her and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Sissy at home.”
There were two of this creature?
“Where’s home?”
The girl rubbed her eyes. She looked around as if she could see it somewhere. Then she began to cry again.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay.” Auntie Barb turned around and started walking back toward the Applebees. “We’ll find out where you’re from. We’ll find sissy.” The girl calmed down.
Auntie Barb made her way down the road, her short apple-shaped frame swaying as she held the child. Maybe a few more scalps were on the table for the day.
