A/N: Because of my dear friend VstavajSonce updating a story that was coated in cobwebs, I've decided to turn this one-shot into an entire series. So, enjoy Sloth. And your new batch of nightmares.
"I'm so tired of this."
What was she saying? She wasn't tired of anything. She loved her life.
She loved her darling husband, Ohio. Even though he brought home new whores every day, hanging off his arms like leeches. Even though he mostly ignored her. Even though she knew quite well he'd only agreed to marry her due to her land and money.
But that didn't matter. Not at all. As long as she was able to be by his side and love him, she was happy.
She looked down at the little boy asleep in her lap. His official name was the town of Manly, but she called him Drew. He was her and Ohio's son, and she loved him dearly. He looked so much like his father. It made her smile.
She was happy.
The Des Moines Register
Beautiful weather over the weekend, perfect for the Arts Festival…
Her dear Ohio seemed off today. There was no women with him, he didn't even have his normal sexy smirk. It worried her.
He didn't say a word to her, which was normal, but he just seemed so…tired. Stressed. She couldn't stand to see him that way.
She glanced at the bottle of clear blue liquid on her bedside table. Of course, her sleeping medicine! A friend of hers had taught her how to make it a very long time ago, and she knew it to be very potent. It could help her darling.
"What is it, Ali-Samantha?" He almost forgot her name. That pristine smile on her face didn't falter in the slightest, however. She just quietly took his hands and slipped the bottle of sleep medicine into it.
"It's sleep medicine, darling…You seem so stressed…" She smiled warmly. "Just consider it a gift, from me…"
He frowned, but nodded. It was strange that his wife should give a damn about him after how he treated her, but he guessed that was just her nature. After she left, he took a deep swig of the stuff. Maybe he should be nicer to her from now on…
The Des Moines Register
A mysterious new illness has sprung up in the Midwest, one dead already…
She hadn't noticed it before. She didn't realize she had been so blind.
But everyone was so sad.
Her dear brothers and sisters, even the people just walking the streets, they were all miserable. Stressed, sad, angry…She equated it down to one thing. They all needed sleep.
And her sleep medicine was just the thing to help.
She was in charge of catering the next meeting. It was a small one, just among the Midwestern states, but she knew what she had to do. It would take too long to give everyone the medicine individually, so she just slipped a good amount into the delicious-looking corn chowder she had made.
As she carried it out to the meeting room, where Illinois was domineering over it all with only paltry input from everyone else, she was smiling that same pristine smile.
The Des Moines Register
The new illness has been spreading fast, though for some reason seems mostly contained to the Midwest. People are dying by the hundreds of thousands and it doesn't seem to be letting up…
Everyone was happy now. They were all asleep now.
She kept petting her young son that rested in her lap, completely ignoring how limp he was. He was sleeping now. He would be happier this way.
She giggled softly.
The New York Times
The illness that has sprung up in the Midwest has ended. However, not a single survivor has been found…
All she had wanted was hope. The ability to do something for herself for once.
And she had gotten it. With everyone else asleep, she had freedom and fortune to spare. They couldn't tell her what to do anymore.
All of her life, that's all it had been. Used every day to someone else's whims. Like a decorative doll.
It broke her, it really did. She didn't know when it happened, but it did. A broken doll was of no use to anyone. So she decided to make herself of use.
By destroying everything.
But in the end, she was the only one not asleep. And she was so tired, so tired…
She really didn't notice or care anymore that her husband was still lying dead on his bed, not having been moved since the day she murdered him. She just wanted to sleep. And sleep she would.
An empty glass bottle clanked to the ground, and she fell onto the bed with her husband, wrapping herself in his cold, limp arms.
"Now, I can be Sleeping Beauty…"
A/N: Not as good as the first, I fear. But it's done. And I shall post it. And you shall have nightmares. And I shall laugh.