Parker Hunt is seven years old and has a deadly allergy.


1. Innocence


Parker Hunt had an allergy. A very severe allergy. Mr. and Mrs. Hunt never allowed him around any sort of animal fur in effort to protect their young son. Their cute, young son of only seven short years. They hoped and assumed that the two of them could easily keep their little boy away from what made him most sick.

But things don't always go as planned. Sometimes bad things happen, no matter how good the people are or how hard they try.

Mr. Hunt had a meeting; an urgent meeting that could have a large impact on his place in the company. Normally, he wouldn't leave his wife home alone with Parker, but he had no choice. This was not something he could take care of from home.

Mr. Hunt walked to the front door before turning and giving his wife a quick kiss on the cheek and his son on the top of his head. Then he was off, Mrs. Hunt left to fend for herself.

For hours, things were uneventful. Lisa Hunt carefully tucked in the hospital corners of the bed she shared with her husband of nearly a decade, Chris. As she tucked, she wished for the millionth-some time that she hadn't married Christopher Hunt. Their current, unavoidable predicament was the fault of her own corrupt genes.

Now was the time. Lisa had to leave, had to save her husband, whom she so loved. Lisa packed her clothes with those of her son and hauled the suitcase into the back of the old, rusty Sedan that hadn't been used since a time before Parker. Before their secret.

She took a pen, and Lisa scribbled a heartfelt goodbye and apology to her husband and taped it to the front of the refrigerator. Lisa only hoped Chris would understand why she had to do this. It was all for the best.

Lisa took her son and dressed him in his heavy winter coat; something he'd received as a gift for Christmas from relatives that didn't know of the ugly secret. Lisa fitted a ski mask over his blond locks and childish face, leaving only his blue eyes to the view of the world. Then, with shaking hands and a consciousness full of fear, Lisa took Parker by the hand and led him out of the house and ushered him into the back seat of the Sedan. He was buckled safely, securing her from possible harm, before she slipped into he driver' seat and turned the keys in the ignition. She was scared; Lisa was so very scared.

"It's okay," she told Parker in a caring voice when he asked why they weren't going out with Daddy. She was probably trying to convince herself more than Parker, but she needed the convincing just as much. "Daddy is going to meet us when we stop." She smiled despite the way the lie broke her heart.

Lisa backed out of the driveway and onto the snow-blanketed black of the street. And Lisa drove.

Lisa was nearly to the state line when Parker announced that he needed to go potty. Lisa pulled over, onto the shoulder of the highway, and wished she had another option. But she didn't. So Lisa got out and unbuckled Parker, taking him just to the edge of the wooded area that lay just beyond the end of the paved road. Lisa helped Parker take care of business and let him button his own pants while she turned to observe their surroundings, scanning for any animals or the like.

Lisa turned back to Parker. What she saw made her heart squeeze tight. Parker's cute little face was uncovered, a happy smile spreading across his lips. "No! Parker put it back on before you get sick!" Lisa told him urgently.

But their was a sudden change in Parker's expression. His smile remained, but the intent behind it became something far worse than childish play. Lisa knew she had no hope of getting back to the car, he'd never let her make it that far. But maybe...maybe if she could get up one of the nearby trees, she would be okay.

Lisa took a careful step backward. "Parker, baby boy, it's Mommy. Hey, put your mask back on for me, okay? Can you do that?"

The smile slid off of Parker's small lips and Lisa ran. But how far could she make it, really? How far could she make it with that haunting smile chasing after her?

Chris stepped into the warmth of his home. It was nearing six in the evening, and he wanted nothing more than a nice, quiet dinner with his wife and son. But as Chris entered room after room, he found no trace of the two. In the bedroom, Lisa's clothes were gone. In Parker's room, a few toys were left strewn across the carpet, but his clothes, too, were gone. Chris raced into the kitchen, searching for the phone. He needed to call his wife; needed to understand what this was. That's when he spotted the note on the refrigerator. He yanked it off, reading the scribbled words. It was clear, the haste Lisa had been in when she'd written this. It was an apology; an explanation. It was a death sentence.

Chris left, taking the Hummer, and knowing exactly where his wife had been headed. Lisa had been on her way to her parents in Almond Grove, Connecticut, just across the state lines. She had wanted to tell them the truth from the start; how their son had received a dangerous gene, a kind of allergy. Whenever he was exposed to the fur of an animal, the pheromones would do something to him; take him back to his most primal instinct: to kill. So that's where he started.

Chris was about to cross state lines when he spotted the old Sedan on the side of the highway. Why were sitting there? By this time, surely, they should've made it to Almond Grove. A bolt of terror coursed through Chris's veins. He knew why the Sedan was still sitting there.

He pulled the Hummer up behind the old Sedan and got out, calling for Lisa and for Parker. Chris combed the area and fell short for more than an hour. He headed deeper into the woods. Chris looked behind trees, kicked through large snow drifts, to no avail.

But then he noticed a spot where the snow was tainted, stained red. "No...!" The stark realization pushed him toward the stain. And there, behind a large oak, lay the bloodied and beaten body of his wife. Chris resisted falling to his knees beside her. Even if he checked, she would have no pulse. Lisa was gone.

Chris heard the snap of a branch and jerked his head around, but he didn't see any evidence of his son. He turned back to his wife, only to be met with the smack of a large tree branch to the side of his head. Chris Hunt fell beside his wife at the hands of his young son, Parker. Parker smiled that murderous smile down at the mangled bodies of his dead parents.

Parker gave them a last glance, then walked away through the snow. Ah look, a hunter!

Parker Hunt had an allergy. A severe allergy. Parker's allergy made him a killer at only seven years old. Parker just murdered his parents. Now who is there to protect us?

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