Storm and Slaughter | ON HIATUS

Chapter 1

The present...

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Five sister-less years I've gone without Paige, and it has been glorious. I've killed more people than ever imaginable (twenty-seven in total), and I've done everything that I've ever wanted to do. But I feel incomplete. Maybe it's the fact that I sent my sister to an insane asylum, or maybe it's just because I murdered our parents. Either way, my feelings haven't changed since I sent her to that place.

She deserved it. In fact, she still does deserve it. Five years isn't long enough. She hasn't learned her lesson yet.

"Bellatrix!" My adoptive mother calls for me.

I don't know why I have to stay here, now that I'm 21, but I do.

"What?" I sigh.

I absolutely hate my adoptive family.

"Now, now, dear. No need to be bitter!" She responds from downstairs.

I groan. My 'father' yells at me to answer to my 'mother', so I comply. He can be scary. But, then again, I can be scary. I did kill my real parents, after all.

So maybe I can kill these ones too.

I trudge to their voices, listening for my adoptive brother. I can't hear him. Good, he shouldn't have to see his parents die.

"Yes, mother?" I shudder at the word, but she doesn't seem to notice.

"We have come to the decision that you are too old for us. Since you are now 18, you need to get your own place," she says.

The adoption agency changed my age, so that I'd get adopted quicker. They haven't found out that I'm actually 21. Yet.

"Right," I respond.

I glance towards the kitchen, eyes scanning for any sort of a weapon. I leap towards the kitchen, arming myself with the weapon. My adoptive parents back away slightly as I get closer to them.

"Don't do this, Bella," my mother says.

My face twists up into a sadistic grin.

"If you knew me at all, you'd know that I hate being called Bella. I prefer Trixie."

I plunge the knife deep into the woman's heart as she splutters, blood pouring from both her mouth and the wound. My adoptive father screams, but I quickly shut him up by stabbing him in the head. He slumps before falling back.

I step over the bodies in front of me, heading to the front door, with the knife still in my hand. I have to get rid of the evidence.

"What have you done?" I hear their son's voice from upstairs.

I freeze, halfway off the front porch. I could run, or I could kill him too. I decide to go with the latter.

"Oh, this?" I start, "All I did was kill your parents. No big deal."

I shrug. He starts backing away from me, going upstairs again.

"No. It wasn't you. It couldn't've been," he stutters.

"It couldn't've, huh? Then what's this?" I point to the knife.

He takes one look at it and gasps.

"It was you. It was always you. You killed your parents. You put your sister in the insane asylum, where you should be. You are a psycho," everything comes together for him.

I leap at him, stabbing his stomach. He screams, but I just push the knife deeper. His body falls onto mine as I feel him drain of warmth. My mind drifts to my sister, who is still in the insane asylum that I sent her to all those years ago.

I know that she's longing to get out, that she wants to kill me.

I've decided to visit her. Even though she doesn't deserve it, I need something from her. Something of mine that she has.