Berceuse for The Suffering (Complete)

31. {Lets End This}

As Linda gazed out of the window, her eyes fixated on the headlights of the car which had stopped at the Mercedes house. A smile played at the corners of her lips, but it was short-lived. Her heart sank when she saw the state of her husband. Blood covered his clothes and he was leaning on the car for support. His legs were shakily and his other hand was clutching his stomach.

Linda was about to call out to him, worry etched on her face when a groan behind her drew her attention away from her husband. Her wicked grin returned as she noticed that Antonio was coming to.

As the man regained consciousness, Linda watched in amusement as he struggled against the ropes binding him to the chair. The same was true of his late wife and their son, who was also bound in the middle of the living room.

Taking great pleasure in their discomfort, Linda refused to answer Antonio when he asked, "What have you done?" Instead, she raised a hand holding a knife and dragged it gently across her cheek, a sinister smile etched on her face. "Lyli is here," she whispered menacingly.

Antonio's eyes widened and he thrashed against his bindings, causing his chair to tip and wobble. Linda laughed gleefully at his futile attempts to escape. Then, without another word, she strode to the front door, flung it open, and switched on the porch light.

***

Mark wasn't a person who cared. Hell, he never stayed in any relationship far too long to understand what the word care meant. He was an orphan, bounced from one foster family to another and when he was old enough, he started living on this own. But as he watched the man descend his car with difficulty, he felt a pinch in his heart that urged him to lend a hand. Besides, he hasn't paid. He needed to at least be nice. Maybe he would give him a big tip. So he stepped out of his car - the thing in the backseat completely forgotten - and assisted the man who at that time was leaning on the side of his car.

"Need help?" he asked.

"Do I look like I need one?" The man answered.

Mark bobbed his head.

"Then yes," the man replied. So Mark took his arm and wedged or over his shoulder. An ear-splitting very erupted from the old man and as soon as that yelp escaped him, the creature in the back seat jumped out the car window, breaking the glass.

Mark's eyes widened in terror and he almost let go of the man when the creature crawled towards them on all fours.

What the fuck, Mark thought to himself. Yup, he was in the twilight zone. Maybe he smoked too much pot. Or maybe he drank before he went to sleep.

A growl yanked Mark out of his jumbled thoughts.

Then the man he was assisting spoke, "Lyli, Daddy needs help."

The creature stopped growling and slowly removed herself from their path.

Yup, crazy. He definitely was dreaming all this, Mark mused. So he took a deep breath and assisted the man toward the house. The porch light turned on and as soon as it did, the creature who was walking behind them growled.

Mark flinched.

"Martin, Lyli!" The high-pitched voice of a woman turned Mark's attention to the porch. His eyebrow furrowed when he saw a woman perhaps old enough to be his grandmother standing under the light bulb. She wore a blue floral dress that had patches of red. Her face was also smeared in red. Mark understood one thing at that moment. He was definitely dreaming or he had lost his mind. He was batshit crazy. He was in an asylum.

"Martin," the woman yelled again. Like a robot, Mark moved forward. His emotions were in turmoil though, but he just kept taking one step after another, guiding the man toward the bloody woman on the porch. The creature beside them crawled slowly. Like she was trying to be in the same line as her father. He was her father, right? Mark mused. She called him Daddy.