Vicky Genocidal: In Depth

Chapter Eighteen: The Birth of Genocide

Vicky quietly made her way through the house, careful not to make too much noise. She went to her room, gathering some supplies in her old, worn-out school bag. These consisted of a bag of markers, her last pack of cigarettes, her father's lighter, and the single sheet of paper Anna had given her. Vicky then changed into a pair of black, cutoff shorts and an old, tattered red and black sweater from one of her past Halloween costumes. She then made her way into the laundry room, where her aunt kept her old supplies, like old hair dye and a small sewing kit.

"Perfect." Vicky whispered, scurrying to the bathroom. Once inside, Vicky took her time, applying some heavy makeup. She applied several coats of mascara, completely covering her now-blonde eyelashes. She also colored her eyebrows black, now a stark contrast from her hair. That was okay, she would take care of that soon.

Vicky then used Marge's old hair dye to color her hair, having been shown how to do it by her aunt. As her hair dried, Vicky then decided it was time to finish the makeover. After a few failed attempts, Vicky managed to thread the sharpest needle, then pulled the bottom of her eyelids down, stretching them out as far as she could.

She then began to sew.

And sew.

And sew.

And sew.

When she was finally finished, both of Vicky's bottom eyelids had been completely sewed open. Blood dripped from the small holes in her flesh, landing on the counter with a soft "plink". The girl ran her index finger over one of her cheeks, holding it in front of her face. She gazed at the crimson red blood coating her finger, admiring how it looked.

"Pretty..." She mumbled, then licked the blood from her finger. To her newly twisted mind, the blood tasted salty, with a hint of sweetness to compliment it. She then licked the rest of the blood from her fingers, finding herself growing addicted to the taste. She gazed at her new face in the mirror as she did this, giggling to herself. She looked just like him. It was so funny.

Soon, the blood was all gone. She wanted more. No, she needed more.

It was then that Vicky realized. There was a way to get more. She could have all the blood she wanted. The deranged teen then rushed into the kitchen, grabbing the sharpest knife she could find.

She then made her way to her aunt's bedroom.