Inhaling deeply, a young woman basks in the delicious smell of her concoction before her. In front of her is a wondrous kitchen pot sitting on a beautiful electric stove surrounded by a round marble counter. If the stove were considered the starting point of a circle, the sink would be on the pi end. Stirring the contents in the large cylinder, her homemade spaghetti brews and bubbles aromas into her face.


Her secret spaghetti and sauce recipe is far from the average type of marinara sauce, meatballs, and choice of pasta noodles. As she grabs her exquisitely, hand-carved chopsticks to pick up some of her "noodles," she raises them up into the shining light from the window behind her. The large intestines glisten beautifully with the sauce of tomato, basil, blood, bone marrow, semen, and other nutritious human fluids.

Hmmmmm, why do I feel like something is missing? she warily thinks to herself. She put the heat down to a simmer, as she carefully removes her kitchen apron so she can change into her "meat" apron, along with her trusty wooden sheathed katana as it lays gently on her back. Sigh.

Turning on the faucet to wash her hands, she slowly runs them through the running water as the drain pulls in traces of spices and blood. Flicking her hands of excess water, she dries the rest off on a neighboring towel on the counter before proceeding to the adjoining room to go check up on her ingredients. As she enters through the open door to the other room, her black heels click and clack over the polished wooden floors breaking an ataractic air of-

"Mmmmmmffffff!" a young, five-foot-tall Caucasian boy tries to cry out through the dirty, muddy sock lodged into his mouth as he sat uncomfortably on his arse. His long sleeved, light blue shirt is tattered while his overlaid white t-shirt is tainted with specks of blood. The edges of his khakis look so worn out because of the dried mud from the messy trail he was running in. I love it when they think they can get away. Sigh. It’s adorable. She ignored his muffled cries as she walked over to him in his little corner, still keeping an eye on him with her wide peripheral vision as she focused at her wall.

In front of her, there was a small collection of her favorite sharp toys for playing with children like him. Her face lightened up at the sight of Ping and Pong as she excitedly snatched a pair of twining daggers and began to sharpen them with one another. As her hands kept busy, she slowly turned towards the young boy with an eerily indecipherable, calm look on her face.

Lowering her eyes down at him, she saw that he had also been busy with his hands, with what little space he has with that tight rope knot. His adorable bright cyan eyes widen in fear as she ever so slowly tilted her head to the right, a clownish grin slowly curving over her face. It’s just so droll to see their reactions. It looks like he’s been trying to cut through with a stray broken piece from a scythe.

At first, she didn’t process this immediately as she smiled wistfully at the happy, gruesome memories she had with her old sickle. It was so much fun, slicing it cleanly through necks and shoulders. It was always fun to watch their butts jiggle when it came to cutting off the thighs. Of course, it didn’t work very well when she thought she could sharpen it at a different angle; she didn’t think it would break like that. That Cheshire grin of hers immediately disappeared into a heavy frown as she snapped back to the present to see that the broken piece was in his hand.

Within a few seconds in one swift move, a beautiful splatter of blood went in a tangent graph direction from his lower right abdomen to his left shoulder.

“Ahh... ahhhhh... AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” he lets out a macabre scream as he squirmed about and dropped the broken piece from his bloody hands. She was careful for it to be about an inch deep gash just so she could relish the screams. It’s so much fun to watch his pain. His contorted face. The arching in his back as if his body could somehow repel the pain just by jutting it out. The handle of her katana was firm, despite the blood on it, as she sliced through him again, mirroring the design on his shirt. From the arousal she’s getting from this, she figured the spaghetti could wait a little longer. This is going to be fun.

A young girl is walking down a lonesome trail not too far from home. She is happily skipping along as her black messy hair bounced about as she explored this new trail. She looked like she had been crawling through dirty tunnels that had tousled and played at the rough ends of her hair. As she looks around her path and surroundings, her sneakers sing in gravelly tones as they crunch against the rough sand gravel of the trail, until she saw a strange sight.

Several feet ahead of her, a little brown haired boy is wearing a light blue shirt that looked to be twice his own size. As his small body is crouching over an ice bucket sized rock, the rough torn edges of his black Nike shorts are seen clearly, as they are caked with traces of dried mud and grass. He looks like he is about seven or eight years old. Once she slows her pace, she notices that he’s been crying, with the trails of dried and fresh tears strewn all over his cheeks and neck. Sensing another presence, the boy raises his head and looks up at her pitifully as he scrunched up his face and whimpers out softly:

“Mommy’s gone. I got lost and I don’t have my mommyyyyy.” His adorable baby face continues sniveling; his soft cries filling the air around them.

Oh no! That’s so sad, she thought to herself. But, he’s cute when he cries. “Where did she go? Do you know?” she asked softly, thinking that talking loudly might scare him.

“W-well, we were walking around s-staring at the pretty flowers and birdies,” his voice wavered as he sniffed again. “When we were playing I Spy, I spied a bird’s little straw home on a tree branch. It was right over the creek.”

“Oh really?!” she asked, curiously intrigued. “Were there eggs or baby birds?”

“Mommy likes to climb things, so she climbed up like a monkey to take a closer look. It was a really high branch.” He then lowered his voice as he shamefully said, “I thought I could help by throwing a heavy rock at the branch, but it hit mommy in the head and she fell.” Oh wow, he sure can’t aim, that’s for sure, she thought condescendingly.

“Why did you throw a rock?” she asked curiously.

“I don’t remember. All I know is that she’s bleeding in the creek, and she’s not moving,” said the boy, with a forlorn expression and new tears sneaking out the edges of his tiny hazel eyes. Aw, I wouldn’t want to remember my mommy like that either, thought the girl. She slowly approached him and wrapped her arms around him, hoping that this would comfort the boy. The boy was still in a melancholy state, so his feeble attempts at a small clench at the back of her shirt was enough to show that he appreciated the gesture.

“Well, I don’t know what else to say. I’m used to other people dying, not my own family,” the girl let go of him and stood up. She paused briefly then her face lit up as a new idea came to her. "I know! You can be part of my family. I’ve always wanted a brother!”

“What? Really? You can do that?” the boy’s face looks surprised, but now with a hint of hope. “I won’t have to be alone?”

“Sure! My mommy told me that if another kid like me lost their mommy to death, we could adopt them into our family!” the girl exclaimed in delight, despite the mention of death.

“Oh really? I didn’t know that.” The boy looked sheepishly more hopeful at a new life.

“See? Everything is going to be okay,” she said in a soothing calm voice. “All I have to do is take you home with me, and we’ll tell my mommy what happened.”

“But... what about my mommy? Her body…” the boy couldn't forget his mommy’s body was lying in a bloody red river.

“It’s okay. I know what we can do. I could take you home to my mommy, and she could help. I know she can.” She smiles happily at him as she continued. “Mommy and I sometimes find lonely people out here, so we take them in so they won’t have to be lonely anymore. But you’re much more than that, you’re gonna be part of our family.” The boy’s chest rose with his renewed spirit and then his stomach let out a low grumble. His face flushed with embarrassment.

“Will…” he hesitantly asked. “Will there be cookies?”

“You betcha!” she happily confirmed as a wide grin spread across her face.

In the middle of the room lies what’s left of the teenager on a bed-sized table, with all his limbs completely cut off. His head still intact with his torso, face frozen in shock, pain, and terror. His torso is now a piece of meat ready for hanging on a hook for a beating. She definitely made sure he suffered as long as possible. Unfortunately, he eventually died from excessive blood loss after his last arm was chopped off. Oh well, time to take out the gloves so she can carefully remove his skin.

She abruptly paused, thinking she heard a noise from the outside - footsteps. She froze as she then heard a sound from outside the kitchen door that leads to the open backyard they have outside the cabin. Carefully wiping her hands of blood onto her apron, she swiftly changes into her kitchen apron as she walks back out to the kitchen. She gets there in time to see her adorable little eight-year-old daughter skipping happily into the comforts of her home... with a friend. Oblivious to the small stain of blood still left near the door, both of them are giddy with glee, the boy avid to be part of a new family. The mother knelt before her daughter and this new young fresh meat as she smiled.

“Hi! How’s my sweet little Jenny?” she squealed, trying to hold back her excitement. Fresh meat! Ohhh, it’s definitely going to be a bloody hell tonight, especially for the Blood Moon!

“Hi, mommy! I went out exploring and found this boy who was wandering around the trails,” said little Jenny with her short black hair messed up with twigs and branches.

“H-hi, my name is Lucius,” he shyly introduced himself. He nervously fiddled with his hands as he fumbled his words, trying to get it out. “My mom… she... fell…”

“His mom is dead and now he has nowhere to go,” blurted out Jenny. She immediately had an apologetic look on her face. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hold it in. It’s just... being able to kill at such a young age.” She turns to face him, “You should be proud, not a lot of us can do that you know.”

“We’re both still kids,” Lucius bashfully says. “But... I didn’t mean to. She wasn’t supposed to die like that.” He hung his head down. “I wanted my first kill to be special.” A sob rose out from inside his chest. At this, the mother tilted her head curiously as she slowly started to see some potential in young Lucius.

“I know you didn’t mean for her to be your first... and no one usually kills their own family either,” Jenny thought she was sympathizing but her mother’s glare said otherwise.

“Oh sweetie… come here.” The mother opens her arms wide to welcome this new, young, demonic being into a tight squeeze. “Oh! I have an idea, why don’t you join us for our tonight’s Blood Moon celebration? We’re having spaghetti.”

“Oh... really? That sounds pretty fun,” Lucius replied unhesitatingly. “But... what about my mommy? She’s still out there... in the river.” The mental image of his mother’s lifeless body is still vivid in his mind, but instead of scrunching his face, a blank morose expression is painted on his face. The mother gently ruffled Lucius’s hair as she let him give his honorable silence to his mother.

“... We could go get her body and bury her for you, if that would give you any closure,” the mother offered sweetly. She knows that she could simply give a fake burial for the mother and use the organs, if the death was still fresh that is.

“What’s closure?” Lucius asked.

“It’s when you say your final goodbyes to the departed, and in this case, your mother.”

“Oh... yeah, that’d be nice,” Lucius smiled sadly. “So... I get to tell her that I’m sorry?”

“Yep!” Jenny finally pitched in. “If you want, you can even promise her that your next kill won’t be so sloppy!” Smack! Her mother slapped her to shut her up for her insensitive words.

“You weren’t this….” Lucius hesitated as he couldn’t find the right word. “You were nicer to me earlier. Why are you being so mean?” He was clearly unnerved by the rude things that Jenny was spouting.

“Well, I didn’t know you. But since you’re gonna be my brother, it should be okay!” Jenny beamed at her own childish logic.

“Don’t mind her, I’ll be sure to punish her later for her language,” the mother reassured Lucius. “Now, why don’t you show us the way to your mother?”