10. Tag
Blood.
It was everywhere, on the floor, on the walls. There was just so much of it. The smell of rotten corpses hung in the air.
A small boy stood in the middle of the pool of blood, several unmoving bodies not far from his position. The red liquid stained the knife he was holding, the clothes he wore, his snow white hair, his hands, and his face. The child seemed unfazed by his surroundings, an expressionless look on his face. All of it was, after all, his doing.
The silence was broken by a slow applause.
"Very good, my dear. Did you have fun playing tag with those people?" a smooth, cold feminine voice spoke.
"I was 'it' again." the boy whispers, looking at his reflection in the knife he held.
"And I trust you had fun with them?" the voice laughed bitterly.
"They were unworthy prey, I finished them."
"Well done, boy." the voice chuckled. "Would you like to play again?"
The boy faced to where the woman was, and nodded, cocking his head to the side, he spoke.
"Am I... 'it' again?" the child asked.
"Why, of course my dear, you are." the voice said, "Finish them off, quickly this time, okay?"
"Yes... I will..."
His azure eyes became a pure, blank white as he gripped the knife tighter.
It was time for another game of tag.
