Reviewed by Nickolaus Pacione
10/17/2011
This is chilling -- I like the way it is presented and one of those stories that is a rare find for a PG rated story on the Den. You got a voice here that is looking to be published, you should try to send a story to Withersin Magazine if you can do one that's 3000 words. In fact I am doing an anthology of my own that is looking to send stories to the museum where the anthology I did previously is there.
THE SOCIOPATH
BY ZEBRIAL J. GOSSAGE
~IN THE BEGINNING~
It was a summer in Oakville, Illinois that Christine Adhums would never forget. Her son Alex Adhums was six years old. He was rather big for his age. He sat playing with his toy trucks and action figures. The cheap ones you get at a dollar store. His mother was very cheap when it came to her son. His pet hamster Steve roamed freely on the brown carpet around him. His mother sat in the kitchen smoking her nasty home rolled cigarettes. They were menthol and smelled like a dirty ash tray. She smoked like a fucking chimney and drank cheap whiskey like no other. She walked into the living room just to vent a little bit.
"Alex, where the hell are my car keys?" She asked angrily. She had nobody else to vent to because Alex's dad abandoned them before Alex was even born. This lead to her alcohol problem.
"Alex!" She yelled again, waiting for a response. Alex looked up at her blankly, wondering why she was screaming at him.
"What?" he asked in his cute childhood voice.
"Where are my car keys?"
"I don't know." He shrugged cutely. How Christine could treat him so badly was a mystery. He was so innocent as far as the eye could see.
Christine walked into the kitchen and grabbed her keys off the counter. She knew they were there but just loved bitching about the most ridiculous things.
"I'm running to the liquor store. Don't be getting into shit."
"Okay mommy." Alex smiled. He was used to being left alone, his mother was real shitty and didn't know a thing about being a mother. But she sheltered him and fed him, and even bought him cheap toys so nobody could possibly know how bad she really was. Even his preschool teacher Mrs. Devin had no clue. Alex was smart but quiet and somewhat awkward at times but this didn't give her any suspicion of Christine's parenting.
Christine headed out the front door that looked like it was about to fall in, while Alex kept playing with his toys and hamster. He began to hear a creepy noise coming from above him, the kind of noise that would make a kid run to his mommy but Alex didn't run. He stared blankly above him. Alex began to interpret words out of the sounds.
"Kill......--"
"Kill?" Alex asked in a confused tone, but the noise had faded away.
Alex continued playing with his toys for a moment but something shiny caught his eye from the kitchen. It was a steak knife laying on the counter. His mother told him not to play with the knives but he didn't care, she wouldn't know he thought to himself. He ran into the kitchen and grabbed the knife off the counter. He felt the blade, it was sharp but a little worn from being used so much. He liked the way it felt. Blood began to run down his hand, he had accidentally slit his finger. He didn't even know it, most kids would have cried, but he was different. He watched it bleed. He was intrigued. He looked into the other room at Steve and curiosity filled his growing mind. Not the kind of growing mind a six year old boy should have, but the growing mind of a monster becoming. He grabbed the hamster up and began to cut little slits into his stomach. Steve squirmed and fought but it did him no good. The blood gushing out of him was dark and thick. Moments later Steve was lifeless.
