I watched her intently from the door. None of the door spaces actually had doors though, so they just had empty spaces. She sat at the table in the middle of the room with the books she had picked out for today: Quantum Physics, The Art of Cubism and also Pythagoras Theorem. At the moment (from what I could see) she was reading a book about Literature and was furiously scribbling out notes –or quotes – so she could look over them again. She calls this room her little den because of all the books. No newspapers allowed though; no newspapers or TVs or anything that is a link to the outside world.
I do it because I care. I don't want the world to corrupt her and throw her away like it did to me, she deserved better than that. She was a good daughter...even though I must've been a terrible father. I never let her know though because she was too perfect. Only when she was in a state of rest would I leave. "Mida? Sweetie? Are you ok?" I asked.
She looked up from her work and nodded. "I'm fine Dad. I'm just reading about some Victorian book" she smiled, calling me over to her work. I looked at the book and at the picture of a workhouse with some boys. "It's called Oliver Twist. It's one of my favourite books"
Remembering it from my childhood I sat beside her and looked over the page. It had been so long, and I couldn't remember it that much. Everything from my childhood and early teenage years is just a big blur. A big, red blur. She decided to read the extract to me but my attention wandered and I looked around the small room, messing with my sleeves and fiddling. It'd been nearly ten hours and it was getting tough.
"Dad, do you want me to make some food? I'm kind of hungry so I can make us both a sandwich or something?" she asked, nudging my shoulder. I shrugged. I heard her get up and leave the room, so I assumed she had indeed gone to make some food.
Sigh. "There's bread in the bread basket and ham and cheese in the fridge" I told her. It was the only thing I could afford (my last few kills weren't exactly the wealthiest of people so I was scrounging just to be able to buy some food) but she appreciated it nonetheless and began to make a sandwich. "I'm not that hungry, so you can have mine"
That's the good thing about being insane. You don't care about whether you're hungry, or thirsty. It's all irrelevant now. But...I forget that she is perfectly human. She isn't blessed with the gift of no emotions, or guilt. "Are you sure? You'll get sick and weak if you don't eat, Dad"
"I'll be fine, it's late anyway. Eat your dinner then finish your reading, then it's bedtime. Time to go to sleep" I sighed. Those words making it hard not to jump at her and gut her, and nail her entrails to the walls. I pulled on a less blood-covered hoodie and grinned. It was the one I wore when I killed her mother. Chuckling, I put a knife in my pocket.
"Goodnight dad" Mida smiled, with a small yawn, and kissed my cheek before walking up the stairs to go to bed. I followed her quietly and tucked her under the covers like I'd done every night for a long time and kissed her forehead.
"Goodnight sweetie. Go to sleep" I smiled, watching as she curled up and fell asleep almost instantly. I stood from the kneeling position I'd taken and surveyed the road outside to see if there was anyone near. No. It would mean I would have to take a little journey before I found a potential target. I crept out of the house quietly to not wake Mida and locked the door. She was safe.
Now the fun began. I walked down to the local bar and sat in the corner with my hood covering my face; if anyone recognised me, it would be all over. I looked over everyone in the bar: patrons, the men who would drink out their sorrows, a few young babbling girls and a fighting couple. The woman of said couple reminded me of Mida's mother.
"I HATE YOU! SON OF A BITCH! YOU CHEATED ON ME WITH MY OWN SISTER!" the woman yelled, smashing a glass over her partner's head. The bar owner threw the couple out and grunted to himself about how they often fought. Perfect. I would go for the woman. Her anger proved that she would put up a little fight, and it would be a bit more rewarding to have her blood squirt on me from her wounds.
I tapped her shoulder as she breathed deeply to try and calm herself down. "What do you want? I'm guessing you saw that fight in there" she sighed, hugging her knees as she sat against the bar wall. I coughed slightly.
"I was wondering if you were ok, Miss" I asked, my voice full of fake concern; I didn't actually care about her wellbeing, I just needed to get her away from all these prying eyes. Holding a hand out to her, she took it and I helped her to her feet.
"Thanks. It's nice for someone to show a little consideration" she said, brushing herself off. Luckily, thanks to the darkness, she couldn't see my features. I took her hand and began to walk in the direction of the forest. "Wait..." she shook, trying to pull herself away from me.
"Fine, I'll just leave you here to get beaten up" I replied with a slight cockiness. The pressure of her tight grip was present on my hand and soon we had walked deep into the forest and away from any form of human contact. If she screamed, nobody would be able to hear her. Her breaths quickened in the cool night air and were visible in front of her face.
"I-It's late...I should be getting h-home" she shook nervously, trying to back away. I pulled my hood down and shook my hair, grinning at her with my beautiful smile. Then, I took my faithful knife from my pocket and pointed it at her. "OH MY GOD! DON'T COME NEAR ME WITH THAT!" she yelled, now running. Good thing I was used to running from victims.
I ran after her, the thrill of everything becoming too much. I needed to taste her blood. She tripped over a fallen tree and coughed when she landed on the floor. I placed my knife above her chest and then plunged it deep into her chest, the blood spurting over my face and hoodie, laughing with menace. "Now, go to sleep..."
The life left her eyes. I took the knife from where it had buried into her chest and wiped the blood on my hoodie. I'd wash it when I got home. The rain began to fall and it quickly washed some of the blood from the fabric, leaving little trails of red down me. The walk home was hard, but I finally managed to reach the house. Click. The door unlocked. I opened it slowly so it didn't creak and locked it behind me.
The glug of the washing machine was a familiar occurrence, the soapy water not white but red with that bitch's blood. I watched the clock tick...tick...as the minutes and then hours passed by. Now rid of blood, I walked upstairs and into Mida's room. She was still sleeping peacefully. I placed a freshly made breakfast onto her bedside table (with the meat I'd managed to buy with her money) and kissed her forehead softly. Light flooded into the room as I opened the curtains and she woke up with a beaming smile on her face. "Thanks for the breakfast dad, you're the best!"