Hillary_Flesh and Blood (41 page)

Read Hillary_Flesh and Blood Online

Authors: Angel Gelique


Pleaasseeeee,

Caleigh wailed,

don

t do this to me...don

t do this to me, Hillary...please, please don

t
—”

Hillary smiled. Her eyes were feral. She picked up the knife and slit Caleigh

s throat from left to right. Caleigh gasped and choked on her garbled words. Hillary put her mouth to Caleigh

s throat and drank. Her sister made a noisy gurgling sound. She could feel Caleigh

s pulse throbbing, strong at first then weakening. She
could feel
Caleigh d
ying
. She pulled away and looked at her little sister. Nope, she was not so pretty anymore.

Kathy sobbed heavily. The pillow was damp with her tears. Hillary looked coldly at her.


Why
is there
blood
on
your lip?

she joked,

Did you drink from Caleigh too?

Kathy hadn

t even realized that she had bit her lip badly. She didn

t even feel it.


Come on,

Hillary summoned her,

show

s
over. L
et

s go downstairs.

Kathy couldn

t move. She cringed in place on Caleigh

s bed, unable to comply with Hillary

s command.


Let

s go,

Hillary repeated loudly. She held up the knife for Kathy to see.

Kathy tried to stand. Her legs were too shaky.


I...I can

t,

she cried,

I can

t.

Hillary approached her mother angrily and slashed the right side of her face.


How

bout now?

she yelled,

you think you can get up now?

Kathy grabbed at her face as she shrieked in pain. She cowered but could do no more to avoid Hillary

s wrath. It was as if she were paralyzed with fear.


Let

s go!

Hillary shouted, growing incensed by her mother

s disobedience.

Kathy cringed in fear, awaiting the next strike.


You never listen to me!

Hillary
roared, her big, red, blood-stained mouth making her look even more
te
rrifying.


CAN YOU HEAR ME?

Hillary

s threatening voice resonated loudly throughout the room.

She lunged forward and used the knife to slice the back of Kathy

s right ear. She did the same to her left ear, only making a deeper incision. Blood dripped down Kathy

s neck as she
screamed
loudly.


CAN YOU HEEAAARRR MEEE
? YOU

RE NOT LISTENING TO ME!

Hillary shouted into her mother

s right ear.

Letting the knife drop to the floor, Hillary stepped in front of her mother and grabbed a hold of her ears

one in each hand. She dug her fingernails deeply into the bleeding lacerations, squeezed her hands to grasp each ear firmly then yanked them forward savagely.


You

re gonna hear me,

Hillary hissed,

you

re gonna hear me

.

What Kathy mostly heard was the ripping sound of her ears being torn from her head. It seemed surreal to her. It couldn

t be happening. She was in the middle of a long,
ho
rrifying nightmare. She would wake up and find everyone in her family happy and healthy and
alive...
.

Kathy could feel the pain; it was excruciating. Yet she couldn

t move. She was on the verge of going into shock. She was half-screaming, half-moaning and one hundred percent afraid of what Hillary would do to her next. She didn

t dare put up a fight, didn

t dare resist. She had seen for herself how brutal
ly savage
Hillary had become.

When her mother

s ears didn

t fully dislodge from her head, Hillary picked up the knife and used it to pry them off, puncturing one of her eardrums in the process. This time, not only did Kathy howl in pain, but she tried her best to protect her ears from further damage, to no avail. Hillary stabbed at her hands when they got in her way. Less than a minute later, Hillary had Kathy

s left ear in her hand.


Now can you hear me, Mom?

Hillary shouted, launching the ear across the room and repositioning herself to remove the other one. Kathy was beside herself with pain, fear and grief. She was sweating profusely. She felt hot, then cold, then h
o
t again. She took rapid, short breaths. She thought she was going to pass out. She was hoping, anyway.

Hillary was saying something, but Kathy couldn

t make out what it was. There was a sharp ringing sound in her ear. The next
thing
she knew, Hillary was holding her other ear in her hand. Kathy swayed, feeling woozy. She didn

t know if it was the blood loss, the diminished oxygen or her overwhelming fear, but before she could ponder it any further, she fell on her side upon Caleigh

s bed as everything faded to black.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~16~

 

It was just a dream, just as she had hoped...until she saw the blood all over her hands, all over the pillow, all over her shirt, all over the floor, all over Caleigh

s grotesque corpse. The ringing in her ear persisted. Her head felt heavy. She wanted to go back to sleep and never wake up again. She scanned the room for Hillary. There was no sign of her daughter. Slowly she climbed off Caleigh

s bed.

Outside of Caleigh

s room, the house was dark. Was Hillary home? Was she in her room? Was she asleep? Questions bombarded Kathy

s mind. It was hard for her to concentrate with all the noise in her head, between the ringing, the nagging queries and her instinct warning her to leave...begging her to run out of the house. This time, Kathy was going to follow her instincts. Ignoring it had come at a hefty price.

She slowly crept toward the staircase. She paused at the top step, listening for any sign of Hillary. As
ide from the maddening ringing,
she heard nothing. She took a step down, then another, then another, clinging to the railing for support. She stopped at the last step and listened. There was no sign of Hillary lurking about. Kathy hated the darkness. She was greatly tempted to flick on the hall light but didn

t want to risk waking Hillary if she was asleep on the couch.

Kathy inhaled deeply, quietly, as she took a step forward. She wasn

t too far from the front door. She could be out of the house in no time at all. Should she get her shoes? Her purse and keys were in the foyer. She could grab them on the way out. Her legs were becoming shaky again. She had to be strong. She had to be confident. She was so close now, so close....

She walked forward on
trembling,
rubbery legs. Each step took a great
deal of
effort. She paused each time to listen, listen for
the
killer that she had given birth to in more ways than one. She was nearly past the living room, nearly to the foyer when she felt the impact on her leg. She screamed out in terror, jumping back, nearly falling. She placed her hand over her heart as Storm barked loudly. It was just the dog.


Shhh,

she whispered nervously,
“I
t

s okay
Storm, settle down.

She patted Storm

s head and began moving forward.

The light in the living room went on sending faint beams of light throughout the hall. Kathy

s heart skipped a beat as she held her breath. She was trembling
like a leaf
. Li
ke
a deer caught in the he
adlights, she froze. When at l
ast she had the sense to sprint
the rest of the way
to the foyer, Hillary was
already
within eyeshot
and approaching fast
.


Hi Mom,

she said
ici
ly.

Kathy stopped and turned slowly to face her daughter. The words sounded distant and garbled, as if Hillary were under water. Kathy was barely able to make them out. What was unmistakably clear was Hillary

s cold, calculating glare. Kathy gasped. She knew she had lost her chance. She cursed herself for always making the wrong choices. She should
have
crept slowly to her room and called the police. At least then help would be on its way. Now she was alone. Alone and in grave danger.


What

re you doing, Mom?

Hillary asked, advanc
ing
toward
her
.


I...I can

t hear you so well,

Kathy stammered nervously, louder than she realized or intended.


Awww
,

Hillary
mocked
,

do you have a boo boo?

She shouted the last part then laughed out loud.

Hillary flicked on the light in the foyer. Seeing Hillary made Kathy shudder. She didn

t bother to clean herself up. Her clothing was covered in blood. It was smeared on her face like war paint. Streaks of blood highlighted her blonde hair. Dried blood was caked under her fingernails
and around her mouth and chin
.

Hillary reached over and gave her mother a hug. Kathy let out a weak, long-winded mewling sound.


Were you going somewhere?

Hillary asked loudly.

Kathy didn

t know what to say or what to do. Her heart
pound
ed
heavily
with
in her chest.


I said, were you going somewhere?

Hillary repeated, shouting out the words slowly.

Kathy shook her head nervously.


I didn

t think so,

Hillary replied,
“the sun’s not even up yet
and you
’re not wearing shoes
. Maybe you were just bored. Did you want to play a game?

Kathy shook her head again. Her terrified eyes were
glistening
with tears.


Let

s play, guess where you
r
purse is
? Guess where your keys are. G
uess why the phone doesn

t work.

Hillary threw her head back and laughed scathingly. Then she stopped abruptly and looked intently at her trembling mother.


You

re not going anywhere,

she warned sinisterly.

Kathy

s head and eyes were down. She didn

t know what to do.


Understand me?

Hillary yelled ferociously,
giving her mother a shove, “
You

re not going anywhere!

Kathy nodded quickly. She understood completely.


Well, since we

re both up, why don

t you make us a nice breakfast?

Hillary said loudly into the bloodied hollow where her mother

s ear used to be.

Kathy nodded, stepped forward nervously, paused a moment then continued to the kitchen. Hillary followed behind her. Her mother flicked on the light, walked toward the oven and froze. She squinted
as she
stare
d at the orb on her stovetop…t
he orb with th
e matted, singed blonde hair…t
he orb with the charred face. In addition to boiling Joshua

s head, Hillary had cooked it in the oven. It was cooked to a golden brown hue, his epidermis crispy and peeling like the thin rind of fruit.

From where she stood, eight feet away, Kathy could smell it...smell
him
...smell her dead son

s decapitated, baked head. She opened her mouth to scream, but could not. She was too distraught. She fell to the floor, buried her head in her lap and sobbed heavily. She
felt compelled
to go to it, to tell it how sorry she was, but at the same time she was so repulsed by it. It was once part of her son, but Hillary had ta
r
nished it,
had
damned it.


What

s the matter, Mom?

Hillary asked loudly.

Kathy cou
l
dn

t erase the image of Joshua

s roasted head from her mind. She couldn

t take it any longer. She couldn

t endure another bit of
the
mental trauma. Rising to her feet, she faced Hillary.


You

re an animal!

she screamed,

you killed everyone I love. How can you live with yourself?


How can
you
live with yourself? You might not admit it, but it

s your fault...your fault for not helping me.


You

re go
ing straight to hell, Hillary. Y
ou

ll burn in hell for what you

ve done.


How much worse can it be than the hell I

ve already been through?


Innocent kids...they were just innocent kids,

Kathy cried
woefully
, thinking of
her
young, dead children.


I was innocent too...remember?
REMEMBER?

Hillary shouted.


Oh, God Hillary, what have you done?

Kathy cried out. It was too much to deal with. She hadn

t even had a chance to accept that her children were gone

dead
—brutally murdered
by someone she loved and trusted. She hadn

t had a chance to grieve their loss. It was going to hit her hard. She knew that without heavy medication, she would never sleep again.

On impulse, Kathy ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Hillary was right behind her, grabbing at her legs. Kathy kicked at Hillary trying to knock her off. She managed to kick her in the face, knocking her two steps back. Hillary cursed as she lunged forward, just missing Kathy

s foot. Kathy was in th
e hall, just outside her bedroo
m when Hillary caught up to her and grabbed her hair.


Leave me alone, Hillary,

Kathy cried,

let me go, just let me go....


I said I wanted breakfast!

Hillary demanded, yanking her mother

s hair as she walked
back
toward the stairs. Kathy followed her to alleviate the pain.


Okay,

Kathy cried,

I
’ll make breakfast…
I

m sorry...please stop pulling my hair.

Hillary released Kathy who surprised her by running past her toward the stairs. It was Kathy

s last attempt at freedom. She failed miserably. She was no match for Hillary

s youth and speed. Hillary was on her within seconds, slamming
forcefully
into her mother.

Hillary herself wasn

t entirely sure if it was intentional, but she sent her mother tumbling down the stairs. With a sharp outcry of pain, Kathy landed at the bottom of the steps. She moaned loudly as she attempted to sit up. She was certain that her left leg was broken. She could already feel it swelling. Likewise, her left
forearm was fractured
.


That
’s good for you. T
hat

s what you get for being such a liar,

Hillary shouted as she slowly descended the stairs.

Kathy tried to creep away. She knew it was foolish. It would likely infuriate Hillary even more, but she was desperate to get away. It proved to be an absolute waste of time and exercise in frustration. Hillary hovered over her menacingly, blocking her way. She grinned madly then walked away. She was back moments later with a baseball bat.

Kathy could almost feel the pain before the impact of the bat broke her right leg, at her shin. It was an intense, excruciating pain that ran up her leg like a streak of lightning. Hillary continued to slam the bat into her mother

s leg several ti
mes more until she could see the
tibia bone jut through her skin. It was a nasty comminuted fracture, the bone splintering into multiple fragments.

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