ticcimask neko

Honeybees.

We stopped in front of a decent sized red brick house, vines slotted themselves between the bricks like water. I felt hannah squeeze my hand tighter as we approached the front door.

We couldn't even make it up the third step before the door was swung open and a middle aged, comically drunk man lent against the doorframe. Somehow immediately loosing any sense of intimidation this man may have the integrity to keep.

"who the fuck are youu~" his voice was rough but got more broken as he kept talking.

Hannah lead me inside swiftly, me, opening my strides not to add too much drag to the girls arm. I saw the man practically drown his eyes in my body as I sauntered past him.

He was much too distracted to notice the knife in my right hand. What a shame.

Out of the corner of my eye I see the man clenching the dark bottle of 'honey' in his left hand. His knuckles where white due to the force he was putting on the glass, I wonder what he's thinking?

I noticed as soon as hannah marched through the front door it seemed as if her popping cherry mouth had been sewn shut. It's as if she had started to fade away with the walls of this house, as it's clearly no home.

I felt burning glare on my body as the hairs on my nape rise, but what is he staring at?

I have so many questions and, shit, they're going to be answered.

Once we've made it up the stairs I see a pink door at the end of the small hallway, white, store bought letters messily arranged into her sweet name. The door pushes open with a long, drawn out creak, enough to make my skin crawl.

The first thing I notice about the room is the lack of lighting, a single light bulb hangs loosely from the ceiling. Giving this child ideas and her parents giving her the motivation.

There is one low bed in the corner of this drab room, covers neatly made as if she has to set the example. Lines of peeled off wallpaper decorate the walls like drawing lines to represent time.

A small pile of books rests by the top leg post of the bed just to be picked up and put down again. The paper is worn down creating irreversible lines in the stories. I remove hannah's hand from mine and walk the short distance to the books, the air was as think as honey.

You could hear every breath, footstep and past scream this room has erupted. I fall to my knees limply as I reach for the top book on the pile. Now assuming that if hannah wanted me to stop she would've told me, so I continued.

'this book belongs to Ffycin hoyw primary school, if found outside the premises please return as soon as possible'.

I'm intregued.

'book of morals'.

Not anymore.

I slowly close this wretched book as to not damage the pages any further, gently placing the book back to its place.

I lick my lips tasting the sweet blood from earlier now lingering on my tounge as a sense of relief. I rise to my feet to see hannah staring blankly at her wall, slowly peeling a strip of wallpaper off like it's her religion.

No matter how softly I walk my shoes send echoes around the room with every step, I don't even attempt the light switch. The room is as dark as her fathers bottle when finally giving it whatever detailed look I can muster.

"hannah" I speak at a whispering tone, I'm guessing that's almost unheard in her ears. "hannah, darling, do you think it's time for bed?" hannah takes her stare from the walls into my brown eyes.

A small nod is given as she walks the short journey to her bed. I turn to walk out of the room, but before I go. "darling"
"mhm"
"we're going to be leaving soon, just rest, don't worry about getting into pajamas"
"I don't have pajamas.."
"well that just makes it easier, see you soon"
"goodbye"
I leave the room and pull the door to give some sort of privacy.

Knife in hand I sway my hips as I walk down the creaky steps, batting my eyelashes and making my presence known.

I see the man waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, bottle now out of hand, surprisingly. I stayed on the first step as he grasps my hips. Dispite me on the step he's about 6'4 and towers over my 5'6 framework. I hold my knife lazily covering my crotch through my dress while my other hand I'd up to my face.

"hey sweetheart, what are you doing here looking like that?"
His voice was questioning but he knew exactly what he was doing. And I knew exactly what he was planning.

I sway my hips slightly in his hands making him growl and tighten his grip. I look him into his blue eyes, clouded with hunger and lust and by his look a lot of alcohol..

He starts rubbing his hands from my hips to my thighs, feeling me up like a piece of meat. He's occasionally pinching at my knickers he can feel through the dress, whimpers slightly erupting from the back of my throught. I started palming myself with the knife as this was doing nothing for me. His grip is too strong and sense of what he's doing Is appalling.

I gasp as he runs his cold hand under my dress to feel my outer thigh hooking his fingers of my knicker string. Running his hand under my knickers he cups my butt roughly while literally breathing down my neck. I stand there for a few more seconds just attempting to process what the fuck is happening here.

I step down from the stairs and bring this horney drunk to the middle of his kitchen. He wraps his arm around my waist and I bring the knife behind his back to his at his lower neck. I use my other hand to feel his spine as he eats me with his eyes. I bite my lip as I turn the knife sideways. Oh boy.

I thrust the knife between the two plates blood spraying like a sprinkler as he collabses to the floor. Paralysed. Blood covers the walls like paint, clotting on the cheap print and absorbing into the bricks.

I stand over the man as I straddle his hips, leaning over to observe my work. I slowly ran the knife over his neck wondering if I should take it slow or just stab.

I run my left hand up his chest as I lay on top of him making small circles on his neck. I make a slit on his neck opening a vital vein and letting it run across his neck making a puddle behind him.

I refuse to come back infected for Tim, covered in hiv, so I get up all owing the monster to either bleed or starve, maybe even suffocate depending on how bad he's injured. I walk back up through the door locking the kitchen door behind me with a key by the..open front door.

I feel someone latch onto me and swing me around and hold me to their chest, I glance up to see Tim holding me tightly.
"so" he starts, I get nervous "someone decided to leave the house" Tim purrs in my ear. I glide my arms over his shoulders and around his neck feeling his hot breath on my jaw. I let out a quiet whimper as Tim bites my earlobe, sliding his hand down to my butt straightening the slight creases in my dress as he does so.

The pittering of footsteps catches my attention away, I turn around to see hannah, dead faced at the bottom of the stairs. She's clearly seen this before,thats probably how her mum ended up. I step away from Tim's looming figure and over to the small child. I take her hand up, but she doesn't follow me toward the front door. She simply glides through to her living room.

On the mantle piece, above a cigarette littered fireplace; were framed photos. She grabs one, which I can only assume is her and her mum. Hannah looks barely five in the picture, first time I've seen her genuinely smile. She clutches the photo to her chest and scurries back over to me. I don't dare ask what she has in fear of digging up some underlying emotions in the doorway.

I grab her hand again and I step around her dad before were out the door. Tim's white mustang waiting for us down the path.