Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas! And a little Murder for Christmas too.


Still love this image and sorry about the Christmas cards this year... KISSES! Anyhoo still felt like leaving a small little something for you... A little murder for Christmas. It’s seems like a bit of a tradition. Don't you think? Any traditions?


Mommy can I go out and kill tonight? Indeed... Delving into darkness once again.


Anyhow, hope EVERYONE had a Happy Christmas Eve and has a MERRY CHRISTMAS! Enjoy. Kisses. m.

Whisper.

Whisper.

“Go ahead and whisper. It won’t help any. I can hear every word you’re saying.”

“This is going to be so much fun when we finish cutting your throat. No one will ever notice you were here.”

This is going to be lots of fun.

“And when we’re done here, we can go out and play.”

“She likes to play outside.”

Outside. Means different things to people. A lot of things can happen on the outside. But there’s so much more on the inside than meets the naked eye.

You have no idea how much can go on in the inside.

“Fiona” she calls out the name that the small child responds to.

Fiona turns and stands above a small hole in the ground that she has been attending to for nearly half an hour. The child runs across the bright green lawn toward us. There are a handful of flowers in her hair that fall with her steps. As she approaches it is clear that there a handful of rust colored stains running down the front of her gingham dress. These match the color staining both her hands.

It’s remarkable the likeness of the child to her mother. I’ve known Matilda since childhood and still find the same auburn hair and hazel eyes that greet me upon introduction remarkable.

Harmless is the first thing that comes to mind when you look upon the face of a child. Fiona was no different. In this case it would be quite an inappropriate assumption. And often angelic would be the term her mother use in conversation. It wasn’t a surprise that she deemed the child heavenly… to strangers.

Waiting.

“Moving in the dark. I’m out here in the dark.”

Outside?

“In the front yard. You should come outside. It will be lonely out here if you don’t. Don’t you want to play anymore?”

I want to play.

“Good. Let’s go.”

“Fiona, darling I’m so pleased to meet you. How are you today?”

“I’m fine. Mommy, can I go back and play?”

“Yes dear. What are you doing?”

“Stringing daisies on a chain. Would you like to see?”

“No thank you. You may go back and play.”

The small girl runs back out across the open yard and begins to attend to the small hole in the ground. She takes stick and pushes it in and out of the hold rapidly. When she pulls the stick out there’s that same unmistakable rust color coating the stick. Only its brighter and wet. Slowly she bends down and places both hands in the hole before looking at her mother for approval.

With a nod Matilda consents and the child resumes her play. Down falls the ring of daisies into the hole and Fiona makes no move to reclaim them. Inside both hands delve downward into the opening to drag out an object in plain sight.

See.

 “I’m watching beneath the windows.”

Can you see inside?

“It’s okay. We can look inside.”

They won’t mind if we go inside?

“Come on.”

“The child has no right to live.”

“You have no right to make that judgment.”

“What of the other people? She’s… k-k-k…”

“She’s harmless.”

“That’s not what happened…”

“Fiona didn’t do anything. It isn’t...”

As Matilda sits in denial before me I can visually see the child taking the sharp end of the stick and pushing it into a small object. The size and mass make the object about the size of a small animal. From the short distance away I can make out the rising and falling of the object. It’s breathing between stabs. Short increments of shove and release without any sound of pain. Only the signs of torment lay before my eyes. 

Open.

“Watch carefully. This is how you do it. When you hear it click that means the lock is opening.”

Push it open?

“Go inside.”

Oh yes, this is a fun game.

“Yeah. My mommy taught me how to do that.”

“I think you should leave now.”

“What do you think she’s doing?”

“She’s curious for Pete’s sake. She’s playing with something she found in the yard.”

“That’s not something. It’s too big.”

“It’s probably a dead bird. So what if she found that? Allan you were a child once.”

“There’s no way it’s a bird. Likely a kitten or a small dog. Didn’t you have a dog?”

“Fiona honey, leave that alone now. Come to Mommy.” She calls the child in before sneering at me. Smiling and talking between her teeth she continues. “We’re through talking. Leave.”

“Matilda… I think we have a problem. I’m going to call someone…”

“Go ahead. There’s nothing you can say.”

“Then I am sorry. And you’re right it’s time I was leaving.”

Whisper.

 “It’s too late.”

You’re awake.

“Keep slicing into the front of his neck and he won’t be able to scream.”

I’m glad you’re awake. And don’t bother trying to move.

“That’s a really good job you did tying him up.”

Thank you.

“Keep cutting….   Allan, you’re a very bad man and you hurt my Mommy’s feelings today. It’s such a shame that you won’t be able to call anyone anymore. But you can’t come to my house and talk to my Mommy like that.”

You should have apologized.

“Yes you should have and she said you weren’t going to. And I couldn’t have let you talk to anyone about Fifi and me. Mommy says it’s okay that no one can see her. It’s ok that Fifi has to do these things.”

Ok.

“So Allan we’re not asking. We’re making sure you never talk to anyone ever again. Fifi keep cutting...  Move a little lower though. I’m not through talking to him.”

There’s nothing to talk about. Let’s end this.

“That’s just as well.”

Finish him?

“Yes. I’m ready to go out and play now. Goodbye Allan.”

Both sadness and madness lies beneath that angelic exterior. Dueling beneath the surface. A small demon set forth upon the world to wreck havoc. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it now…

Mommy can I go out and kill tonight?