It was hysteria and hallucinations that was driving this plan of destruction.
A contract was in front of him, the link to the depth of the internet open on his computer. It was midnight, the moon shining deep into his window. It was almost time for the new 2037-38 school year to begin, but that was the least of his worries. There was rarely anything he was worried about now, but there was one thing.
Money. Specifically for this contract he was about to sign.
Maybe he was insane, driven with madness that was caused by the failure of his marriage and the poisoning of his children. Maybe that's what was causing this vengeful spirit to flow through him. It was the selfish thought that would always show up: Why are they happy and I'm not?
He'd never get that question answered, no matter how many times he asked it to the hookers he'd fuck, or to the shadows on his walls. Whatever demons were following him, they were persistent, and he was finally giving in.
He'd managed to stay off the euphoric drug for longer than a month to afford this. In that time span he witnessed heaven and the deepest pits of hell. He'd shake, trembling in fear as paranoia and these monsters swarmed his mind. They followed him everywhere, creating an intense and intricate webbing of lies he wove for himself out in the colorful sand of the killer drug.
It was the process, the long and grueling process with the points of roadblocks asking if he was sure about this.
They're only children. The people wrote.
To hell with their ages. Are you gonna fucking do it or not?
Many people backed out of it, and he was growing agitated. That was until he found the right people for this job. A pack of sickos banded together to make profit off of pornography. To his sickly delight, he noticed that they accepted all ages, and he'd have to pay less the younger the kid.
This organization was a place where people who enjoyed young flesh joined together, humming together and reaching a peak of intense pleasure from supple little things.
Like children.
He typed to them, staying in contact. It felt wrong, but it felt oh so good to finally know that the people around him would finally feel what he's been feeling for years. Nobody knew how it felt to live in this world he was born into, and they were finally going to know.
She's going to finally suffer for what she did to me.
He'd repeat it to himself, growing anxiously excited at the thought of this possibility of hurting her without having to use his own energy.
She'll pay. He'll pay. They'll both pay. They'll finally understand what it's like...
The people wrote to him. He could feel their own excitement through the monitor. It felt good to finally feel the same excitement for the same thing. Like he once had before his house became his prison.
Age?
He thought about it, doing quick math.
Both 13 currently.
He saw the text bubbles. These people were chatty, fishing for extra information, making up for the emptiness he felt.
Both?
He could feel their surprise.
Yes. Two.
A jump of vengeful joy when they asked the final question.
When and where?
YOU ARE READING
The Grean Household
Romance"It was a mistake..." She told her mother, folding her hands into each other. "Marrying him..." Her mother said nothing, she simply sat there as her only daughter stood across from her, on the verge of collapsing from bruised ribs and cracked shins...
