Tomahawk

Childhood

Waring: Not for the queasy or the ones who have violent dreams or who have any mental disorders. Other than that, enjoy. He stood up all night last night. Scared he was. Lying in his bed as the cold air hits him. Why? He's scared of the boogy man. Is he here or not. This boys name was Dylan. He hasn't been fed in two days. He sprawls up from bed. His eyes blood shot, staring right at the door. He gets up and almost as if he is possessed he walks one foot at a time. He grabs the nearest mask, which seems to be a dirty old hill billy mask. He steps out into the hall, and next he heads for his parent's room. He grabs the tomahawk next to his dad's bedside table. He puts on the mask. Now he knows his intent. He knows why he grabbed the tomahawk, he knows why he grabbed the mask. In fact he knew right where he should go.

Though Dylan was mentally unstable and spent all his time locked up in his room. His parents locked him in there everyday hoping that he wouldn't do anything stupid. Today it was unlocked for the first time in seven years. Dylan was only ten at the time. No one knew who he was. No one knew his family. If they died no one would know. They don't have to pay taxes because they never go shopping. Instead they eat human flesh, wear human skin, all their furniture is made out of skin and bones.

Dylan raised the tomahawk high in the air. With no hesitation he struck his dad in the head. It went through, no noise was made because his dad died on the impact. Blood gushed out from the giant slit through his dad's face. Then he walked to the other side of the bed, his mom's side. He picked up the tomahawk, and that's when his mom woke up. Right when she saw him she screamed, but Dylan struck her in the throat. Blood was everywhere, but his mom was still alive striving for every last bit of air. He struck her in the head five times all with great force causing blood and pieces of brain to mash everywhere. Her body fell on the floor spreading more blood around the room. Dylan sat down fell asleep right after that. Again, he was cold. This time cold for the bloody murder of his two parents. He was satisfied. A smile sprang across his face, and he chuckled, almost like he has gone more insane than he already was.