The Horror You Inspire

The days changed like you wouldn't believe.
When he was here, the grass was green, the flowers were pink, & the night was so bright.
Life had sunshine & smiles, and all those things us pessimist's despise.
Home wasn't like it used to be, because a house was never home, & he was never really planted like the flowers that lead up to their house.
He was home, and anywhere they went, as long as they were together, they were home.
There is, in fact, no place like it.
After he died, everything suddenly lost taste, like he had taken it with him.
So, she had to become friendly with the darkness and all sorts of scum, like the sewer rats & the Venus fly traps that she thought sometimes talked to her.
She had become comfortably numb.
All the animals spoke highly of him, and they only really fear the Seventh Son, his offspring.
It wasn't quite prophecy, but his rage & evil were predicted not long ago; regardless, she ignored it for as long as she could, because ignorance is bliss, right?


22. Chapter 21

It was daytime when Maybelyn woke up again, this time there was no sign of Peter ever being tortured six feet away from her, or her maniac son. 

Maybelyn crawls to the kitchen and stands up only to fall into the nearest chair seconds later, realising just how hard those blows to the head were, and secretly hoping they form a blood clot and kill her or something along those lines. 

After sitting for about an hour and contemplating the state of her clarity, Maybelyn gets up and goes to the cabinet in the bathroom to get the ibuprofen, which is probably expired, but she takes it anyways and hopes it'll help. 

Seeing herself in the mirror, Maybelyn realises she needs to look presentable, because to the customers, today is just another day of her work, them of course not knowing she was struck twice last night with an iron rod. 

Maybelyn dresses in a dark flowy top and comfortable pants for her day of work, and does quick makeup before going down to her office and sitting at her desk, patiently waiting for customers, and maybe even nodding off, from the pain, she assumes. 

"Get up, woman. That 'no fears' girl is here, and I want to crack her head open and see those fears she's hiding" Mitchell declares after he smacks Maybelyn on the back of the head, right where he hit her twice before with the iron rod. 

"She's still five minutes out...?" Maybelyn states as she senses the radiant confidence of Amelie. 

"And you need to compose your damned self" he spits and then moves into the dark corner. 

So, to the best of her ability, given the circumstances, she 'composes' herself, and waits patiently for the arrival of Amelie East. 

As before, Amelie makes her signature entrance with loud music blaring from her classic car, parking somewhere were there isn't a parking space and slamming her door before strutting confidently up the stairs and coming through the door.

Amelie has all her normal gear on, except this time with the addition of a large leather bag slung over her chest. 

"Amelie, good to see you, dear" Maybelyn greets as she sits down. 

"Sure. Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something serious" Amelie says bluntly. 

"Alright, do as you please" Maybelyn says with a nod. 

Amelie wastes no time slinging her bag into her lap and opening it to unload it's contents on Maybelyn's desk. 

Articles, obituaries, and telephone transcripts are lain on Maybelyn's desk, neatly organised and collected, and Maybelyn holds her breath, because she knows what Amelie is onto. 

"Why are you killing your customers?" Amelie asks bluntly, leaning back in her chair but looking Maybelyn right in the eye skeptically. 

"I'm not" Maybelyn replies simply. 

"Then who is?" Amelie asks. 

Maybelyn genuinely appreciates Amelie not arguing, but being an adult and asking further questions. 

"I can't tell you, cause then you'll be killed too" Maybelyn says shakily. 

"Ah, what happens in the fight club..." Amelie starts, before she gets interrupted by Mitchell who decides to come out of the dark corner declaring simply, "me." 

"Why so brutally?" Amelie asks as she sizes up Mitchell. 

"Let me ask you a question... What is your fear? and before you say it, I know, she looked through your head and couldn't find anything, which made you so intriguing, but I know it's a lie, so tell me... What is your fear?" Mitchell asks as he paces around the room slowly. 

"I asked my question first, answer my question and I'll answer yours, truthfully" Amelie offers. 

"Fair enough. I kill them so brutally because they are but bugs among people like me, and they deserve to die. Me, and my artful taste, would eavesdrop on this woman's devastatingly sad and emotional sessions with her customers and would take tabs on their worst fears, and compose their deaths ever so true to their many fears. But, when I met you, it was infuriating to have someone with no fear, which is a lie, we all have a fear of something, so I've answered your question, you answer mine" Mitchell declares. 

"You're just a sick freak? That's it? I don't believe you. You've got to have daddy issues or something. But, to answer your question, truthfully, I really am not afraid of anything. It's a natural talent, and you can try and scare me, but you will never see fear in my eyes or hear it escape my lips" Amelie says in full confidence. 

Maybelyn sits in utter awe that Amelie is having a full, calm conversation with her psychopath son.

"I will not accept that as an answer, try again" Mitchell says. 

"Turtles terrify me" Amelie says in a mocking tone. 

Mitchell snaps his fingers and turtles appear, and Maybelyn can't figure out how deep of dark of magic he got into to be able to pull that one off without a wand. 

"Hi little guys!" Amelie says happily to the turtles, completely not phased by Mitchell's magic. 

The turtles disappear after another snap of his fingers and are replaced by giant spiders, but instead of the natural response to run and scream from them, Amelie looks at them and says "rad" with a nod. 

Mitchell goes through all sorts of terrifying things, from rabid gorilla to an adult male with that nasty look in his eyes for young women, but nothing phases Amelie, and eventually both of them get bored.

"You'd be a great killer, you have nothing standing in your way" Mitchell says, and Amelie cringes. 

"I'm fine, thanks. Great time and all, but I gotta go. Peace out" Amelie says and spins on her feet and heads to the door, but before she makes it, a knife flies through the air and almost hits her in the head and Maybelyn screams. 

"No, you're not going anywhere" Mitchell says and locks the door with a snap of his fingers. 

"Piss off" Amelie mutters and keeps walking to the door. 

When Mitchell starts to speed up to get to her quickly is when she starts to run, but instead of to the door, she runs deeper into the house. 

Loud, angry shouting and the clanging of metal comes from both of them as Maybelyn panics on what to do to try and help Amelie, and the only thing she can think of is to unlock the front door, but when she tries she is stabbed by needles that are on the lock, and she tries to ignore them but her hands are covered in blood and there's nothing she can do. 

Maybelyn follows their angry shouting to whatever room they are in, and realises just exactly what they're shouting about.

"You knew exactly where to find that hidden knife, I know you're her son and I know you've killed every single customer for the past four months!" Amelie screams. 

"You're the missing son. Tom and Maybelyn had you and after he died you were taken out of public school, and never seen again, and everyone thought she killed you, but here you are, a goddamned monster" Amelie adds, and just as she finishes a knife hits her in the arm and tears a long gash that she tries hard to ignore. 

"I was brought into this world to destroy!" Mitchell screams. 

"She's your accomplice isn't she?" Amelie stops and asks genuinely.

"That's none of your business!" Mitchell yells and nails Amelie with another knife, this time at her heart. 

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