Mira Mercer lay snug in her bed with the covers pulled up to her neck. She was awash with the self-satisfaction of doing a good deed. It had taken an hour before the boy had spoken to her. And only then, he provided his name. Percival.
Instead he watched her with those intense eyes.
What is he looking for? She had wondered. But there had been more important issues at hand like feeding him and giving him a bath.
There were still so many little mysteries left for her to solve. Like where did he come from? Where was his family? The boy had been unable...or unwilling to answer. He had been abandoned, that much was evident. He was thin to the point of gauntness. His skin was pale to the point of translucent. Only the dirt and grime coating his skin provided any coloring.
Oddly still, was the way he was dressed. He'd worn a faded black suit. She hated it. There was something wrong with a child with such ethereal beauty being contained in the dour outfit. It made him look stiff...deceased. It had made her shiver.
Once she's gotten him out of the bath, his beauty really shined through. Eyes the silver-blue of a glacier stared back from a cherubic face. His lips were drawn in a determined line and they barely parted on the rare occasions when he chose to speak...which weren't many in her experience.
His hair was overgrown and tangled but after a washing it shimmered with health. Mira had dressed him in an outfit that had once belonged to her beloved David (God rest his soul)...before his untimely death. After she's polished her pearl, she'd placed him in the spare bedroom to sleep away the night's events.
Yes, Mira was warmed by her selfless deed. Perhaps she should have been chilled by the draft coming from the now opened window ...in her spare bedroom.
Nancy Dotard dozed in her chairwhile Jimmy Kimmel joked on her television screen. It was a weird ritual that she engaged in every week night. She didn't actually watch Kimmel...but she had to have him on her television screen. It was the only way she could fall asleep. She was well on her way to deep slumberland when she heard the crashing noise coming from the kitchen.
Her cat Tobias jumped up from his car bed at her feet. The time was finally here. It was her turn to be fucked with. She's watched enough ID Channel to realize this is how it always happened. A woman minding her own damn business is set upon by some serial killer, burglar...what have you. Well not this time. Not Nancy fucking Dotard!
She hopped out of the chair and pulled the shotgun from under the sofa.
"Okay you bastard," she said pumping the shotgun. "I'm coming for you."
Nancy rushed into the kitchen and slapped on the light. Her heart raced... Her finger was on the trigger. It was like stopping a operatic aria just as the voice veins to rise...but her energy did change that drastically. She went from murderous rage to melting heart in the blink of an eye.
There crouched in the kitchen floor ravenously eating from Tobias' bowl was...a boy. A beautiful boy.
"What...what are you doing here?" Nancy asked. She leaned the shot gun against the wall and hurried over to the boy.
She had never had children herself. Life had been to busy for such natural things and by the time her biological alarm went off... Her eggs had long since resigned from the job. Nevertheless...the instinct was there even after all this time. She took the boy by the hand and helped him to his feet. His face was smeared with the greasy mess of wet cat food. His eyes burned with the displeasure of the removal of the meal.
"No, no, " Nancy said wiping his mouth. "You can't eat that." She said, sitting him down at the table. She went into the fridge and pulled out eggs, bacon and bread for toast. "We are going to get you fixed right up." She said preparing the meal.
Sensing the the coast was clear, Tobias meandered into the kitchen. He took one look at their guest, hissed, and ran right out of the room.
The smell of frying eggs and bacon filled the tiny kitchen. Two pieces of toast popped up from the toaster slits a inviting golden brown. Mira generously filled the plate. She turned to place the food on the table but the boy was gone.
Her heart dropped. Where could he have gone? Nancy dropped the plate onto the table and ran into the living room.
She checked the bedroom.
Her attention to turned to the bathroom. The light door was cracked open. The light shone from under the door. Had she left it so?
Memories of an old woman was follies playground. Of course she had left it that way. Fear crept through. The silent alarm of the brain that had awakened panick. I was weak at first but the closer she got to the bathroom the louder the alarm sounded. Her fingers curled around the door knob and she opened the door.
Nancy nearly slipped on the widening pool of blood on the linoleum. Her eyes traveled followed the trail of blood to its source. There the little boy kneeling near the toilet.
"Oh my god!" Nancy screamed. She rushed over and grabbed little boy. His face was covered with blood that streaked down his body. His innocent face was crumpled with rage. The eyes were filled with something dark and unchild like. It was inhuman. Nancy wrench his shirt and shorts off and scoured his body to find the injuries that were causing the blood.
It took a moment before she noticed her beloved Tobias on the floor, his throat open and exposed. His eyes were open in death.
"What...what have you done?" Nancy asked shoving him away. The boy lowered his head and gave a menacing growl. He pushed her back with the strength no child possessed. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
A wicked smile stretched across his lips. "Are you scared yet?" He asked. She was. Nancy made a move for the door but he blocked her path. He took a step forward and pushed her hard. Nancy stumbled and fell backward into the bathtub. She screamed as he jumped on top of her and hatched a vicious attack. Nancy felt only pain the final moments of her life. The last of her blood circled the drain.
The boy and her cat Tobias were gone.