A small, two bedroom house in a bustling city stands, being the only house left to actually look lived in surrounded by abandoned buildings and fancy homes. The house was eerily quiet compared to the bustling town around it. A TV light inside the quaint home has a soft hush as snow clouds the screen and the radio hums soft music. There was a trail of destruction trailing from the kitchen sink toward the basement. The basement's door was held ajar by a child's shoe, the smell of musk drifting up from the room. The light swings from above the stairs, throwing a flickering ray around the dark room. The light shines on what looks like legs before it flickers once more and dies out. Pale, clouded blue eyes on a young woman reflect a boy that only looked the young age of nine or so, showing they where the only two in the now dark room. The young boy is crouched in a pool of crimson, the heels of his palms pushed deep into his eyes as if he were trying to get the horrific scene around him out of his mind. An unusual sound escaped from the boys lips, a sound of high pitched surprise. Another, unmistakable sound erupts from him soon after; the soulful moan of someone that has lost. Clear tears soon mix a light red as the young boy starts to cry silent tears as he sits in his mothers deep scarlet blood. He laid upon his elbows, letting out stifled sobs, tears dripping into the giant pool that was spreading around him. Soon, the room grows quiet; the young boy's tiny frame trembled as he grips at his wispy blonde hair in vain.
Another sound slips from his tongue as he lay for a short while; a short hysterical giggle. The giggle slowly grows to a cackle, filling the basement with sound as it echoes from the walls as the boy snapped up and screamed with laugher into the darkened room. His light silver eyes shone crazily, his hands dragging down from his eyes to his mouth to his neck, the blood from his hands becoming smeared upon his soft pink cheeks, streaking down to his neck. He turned quickly to rush to the woman's limp body, a knife still driven deep into her stomach, the handle to the cleaver only jutting out slightly showing a tiny stub, the only evidence of the knife. Her blue eyes slowly move toward the boy, the only visible sign that she was still clinging to life. Her eyes reflect the insane look in his as he grips the cleaver, a smirk growing on his tiny face. He watches her expression twist into a grimace as he pulls out the cleaver slowly, the hooked tip of the cleaver tugging at her intestines. He frowns as the hook get caught, causing him to tug roughly to free the tip. As the blade becomes visible, her intestines drag out with the cleaver, the pink flesh causing more blood to drip onto the floor. The last light from the mothers eyes start drain out as her intestine start to pile onto the ground. The young boy lets the cleaver clatter to the ground as he watches the blood stream out of her body, along with her soul, a lingering smirk still stuck on his face.
"...Weep not, poor children, for life is this way...m-m-murdering beauty and passions..." He sings with contempt and water in his eyes.
Hikaru's lips curls into a weak smile as she raises her hand to touch her son Kurai's face before it falls and her blank eyes stare at him, lifeless.
...eehh...don't knw if I should continue with the story...any opinions?
