Perfect American suburbia, smoldering, burning, rotting house pets. All
evidence burned to cinders. Everyone in that house had died.
"I know I said I'd take care of Ryan but he's been doing things." Miss' Clouder couldn't hide the trembling timbre of her voice.
She was a good woman, took in poor and demented children then made them loving members of society. But there was something about Ryan that Miss' Clouder couldn't face. His eyes ran like deep pools of oil. The only time she had seen a spark of life was after catching him flaying a cat alive with a soupspoon. Miss' Kitkit was a bloody mess oozing life over Miss' Clouder's linoleum. He'd been there only for five days and already three more cats had gone missing.
"Please, I'm not saying that I'm giving up on Ryan but. Hello?" The phone went dead. "Hello?"
"You sent me to my room and gave me less allowance." The thirteen year old said with a hallow voice.
"Yes I did Ryan, you stabbed a teacher with a pencil."
"She deserved it!"
"No Ryan she didn't." Miss's Clouder started backing away very slowly.
"Yes she did. And so do you!" A cold blunt edge chunked into Miss's Clouder's head. The last thing she noticed before head stained the carpet a rich dahlia hue, was the sound of her other children upstairs beating frantically against their bedroom doors. It seems they were locked in.
'My children are trapped.' She could barely croak out the words.
"Fire's pretty." Was the last thing she heard.
"I know I said I'd take care of Ryan but he's been doing things." Miss' Clouder couldn't hide the trembling timbre of her voice.
She was a good woman, took in poor and demented children then made them loving members of society. But there was something about Ryan that Miss' Clouder couldn't face. His eyes ran like deep pools of oil. The only time she had seen a spark of life was after catching him flaying a cat alive with a soupspoon. Miss' Kitkit was a bloody mess oozing life over Miss' Clouder's linoleum. He'd been there only for five days and already three more cats had gone missing.
"Please, I'm not saying that I'm giving up on Ryan but. Hello?" The phone went dead. "Hello?"
"You sent me to my room and gave me less allowance." The thirteen year old said with a hallow voice.
"Yes I did Ryan, you stabbed a teacher with a pencil."
"She deserved it!"
"No Ryan she didn't." Miss's Clouder started backing away very slowly.
"Yes she did. And so do you!" A cold blunt edge chunked into Miss's Clouder's head. The last thing she noticed before head stained the carpet a rich dahlia hue, was the sound of her other children upstairs beating frantically against their bedroom doors. It seems they were locked in.
'My children are trapped.' She could barely croak out the words.
"Fire's pretty." Was the last thing she heard.