Jason reached into the drawer and pulled out the butcher knife. He inspected it, his eyes wandering over the clean, reflective surface and the razor-sharp edge, dimly aware of how easy it would be for this knife to tear apart human flesh. He imagined Bobo's expression as the sleek blade was plunged into his stomach, imagined the blood seeping through his shirt -- a dripping, deep crimson stain from the laceration.

Jason's grip on the knife tightened as his thoughts returned to the present. In one quick motion, he slammed the knife onto the counter, cleanly slicing through an apple that had been placed astray from the basket in which it belonged. His face was twisted with disgust as he let go of the knife, allowing it to clatter onto the counter. How could he even think of such a thing? He could never go through with that.

That would be so...so...messy.

He swiftly returned the knife to its drawer and paced the kitchen, brainstorming. No, the knife wasn't the answer. And he wouldn't head over to the rec center where he knew Bobo was currently skulking around. No, he would wait. He would wait for his perfect chance and then Bobo wouldn't even have time to regret all he's done.

Jason sat by his window, watching the sun slowly sink below the horizon. He had decided to pay Bobo a visit at the rec center after all...but Bobo never knew. Jason discreetly followed his enemy home, observing him all the while. Jason had peeked into each one of the windows of Kelton home (at least the ones he could reach). It wasnt hard to figure out which one was Bobo's. The window was thrown open and loud rock music was blaring obscenely from inside.

Now he sat in his own bedroom, his mind replaying the events of the day, focusing on details he'd need later. In his hands, he cradled a small, black object. A gun. He had discovered it in the drawer of his father's bedside table a few days back. He knew exactly what he was going to do. And he was going to do it, too.

It was a few hours after the sun had set. It was time. Jason stood and tucked the gun into his back pocket, stretching his shirt down over it, and headed to the door.

It didn't take long to reach Bobo Kelton's house. It seemed as if the planets were aligned for him -- everything was going perfectly. Just as he had hoped, Bobo had left the window open a bit. Jason wouldn't have doubted that Bobo had been blasting his metal music late into the night, in hopes of irritating the neighbors.

Jason reached his fingers beneath the window and slowly and silently pushed the pane of glass up. He carefully climbed in through the window and stood over Bobo, who was fast asleep, his mouth hanging open, snoring lightly. He looked so innocent this way just like any other child.

You're welcome, Jason thought to himself to Bobo. Now you'll always look this innocent. No one else will have to find out what you really are.

He reached into his back pocket and felt the cold handle of the gun. He pulled it out slowly and pointed it in Bobos direction. Jason stared for a few seconds at the helpless body. He sighed and shook his head. Then, pulled the trigger.