This story is so long I still haven't finished it yet. It is my third story I ever started, and includes Italian words, but from the way they're used you can understand them. There aren't many adult themes in here, but more of drama. Some humor is dotted here and there. And there are a couple of twists. Read and find out how sick I can be!
The Simpsons were at home, asleep. Little did they know, a horrible incident was about to happen.
"I hope you are enjoying your last day on earth, Simpsons," Sideshow Bob said under his breath. "You thought I couldn't win. You thought you beat me every time. Well, I think for once I deserve a little of your luck. Thanks to you all, I have been kicked out of everything that I love. My life has become a living hell, and thanks you, everything that's good in my life are pulled away from me! Not marriage, of course. But most everything else."
Bob had made his way to the tree house. Climbing up, he put the kitchen knife in the mouth. Now for revenge… THE BLOODY WAY!
First was the parent's room. Bob climbed in, and was shocked into silence. They were already dead. Slit throats in the bed.
Next was Bart's room. Oh, he was going to make Bart's last.
Bob ended up passing through that room too, Bart was stabbed to death. Joy filled his heart, but so did curiosity. Who killed them? He hurried on to Lisa's room, slowly realizing his job may be done completely.
He hoped if she was still alive, he could find out what happened. But three out of five . . . She had a slit throat, the knife still in it. It was a gruesome sight, the bodies still fresh.
He now entered the baby's room.
Bob looked in her cradle, expecting to see another bloody throat. But she was wide awake, crying silently to herself.
Maggie curled in her blankets, hugging the stuffed bunny from her family, given to her on her first birthday. When she saw Bob, Maggie wiped her tears with a sleeve and stared wide-eyed at him.
Bob turned on the light. At least she was still alive.
He smiled. "I bet you weren't expecting me this evening. Or anytime soon. Since you are the only one left, I suppose you would want to join your beloved ones? Give me a chance to end a hell that is bound to happen in an orphanage?"
Bob raised the knife just as flashbacks of the rest of the family's butchered bodies entered his mind. Who killed the rest of them? All he wanted was to kill the boy. Cecil had wanted to kill Lisa. But that was over with. Someone had just recently killed the family in their sleep, making short and sloppy work of it, leaving only an infant trembling under the sheets. Leaving the baby. Actually, all that he wanted to do was come in, kill the boy, and get the hell out.
Bob couldn't just leave Maggie here; nobody ever broke into the house. And she wouldn't be found for at least another week. Died slowly from hunger. She was smart, but the cradle was raised too high for her to climb out. She would be trapped.
He again looked down at the baby's face, unable to raise the knife upon the orphan. He couldn't bring Maggie to an orphanage; the nuns would see him and call the cops. And then he'd really be charged for murder. But he couldn't bring her home; they were barely passing by as it was.
But Bob couldn't leave her here. He made his decision.
He went back into every room, trying to make it look like Homer did it by laying him in Maggie's room, holding the knife.
For Maggie, he rubbed the blood off of the knife and brushed it on a life sized doll from Lisa's room. For extra measure, (and so it wouldn't look like it wasn't set up,) he stabbed the doll, and oh so carefully let blood droplets fall around that.
Bob took off his blood covered gloves and set them in the washer.
No possible way the police wouldn't think Homer did it all. Then again, the police weren't the sharpest people around.
Robert went back upstairs to retrieve Maggie and some of her belongings. The last thing his family needed was for her to start crying because she didn't have anything to play with, or reminders of her family.
He got a back pack from Marge's closet, and began to pack several items that would make the baby feel better.
He packed one of Lisa and Marge's necklaces, Bart's slingshot, and one of Homer's shirts to wrap her in.
Next, Bob packed clothes. Then several toys, mainly because she kept putting them in the bag. He also packed milk bottles, one of which she joyously began to suck down, because Gino had grown out of those before they came to America.
Bob smiled and lifted the girl into his arms. By now, two hours had passed, and it was now 1 in the morning. At least he would make a clean getaway.
As he looked into Maggie's eyes, Bob felt a huge jolt of guilt for what he had just found. At least someone had finally killed that damned boy, but also killed the entire family. Leaving the innocent baby an orphan. What had she done? Maggie only followed her family, she couldn't help being in the middle of a feud between two families. Possibly more, since Homer was her father, and he was "a people person. Who drinks."
Either way, what's done is done. The Simpsons were dead, the blame on a dead Homer.