𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ━━ 𝘙𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘎𝘰𝘥𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘺

𝟏 ── 𝘛𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘴

(𝘗𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘴𝘺𝘭𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘢, 1996 )

( 𝘏𝘦𝘮𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘎𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦 )

IN THE QUIET HOUSE BELONGING TO THE JONES', VERA AND DONOVAN JONES HAD JUST PUT THEIR PRIDE AND JOY TO SLEEP. Their darling little Sage was only seven months old with her beautiful, smooth chocolate skin. Her brown orbs had been a sight for sore eyes to the pair of parents. They had just come back from dinner as their babysitter, Jenny had looked over her for the last 2 hours.

They had soon gotten ready for bed, changing into their pajamas. Vera dawned an iconic, pure white lingerie piece before putting on a black robe she adored to cover herself with. Donovan only wore his pajama pants, allowing himself to be shirtless.

They settled themselves into bed by nine-thirty five at night, finally feeling comfortable before attempting to sleep. Vera faced the left side of the room, Donovan acting as the bigger spoon of them.

Soon enough, they're both sleeping soundly. Their snores encroached the room, filling it up. Their bodies laid in the space, warm, next to one another. Unsuspecting, in a way.

But then, as the hours go by, a faint noise rings in the distance. As if it's some pen dropping to barely alert those in the house. The sound rings and rings, several times, an annoyance at this point.

Vera slowly stirs awake, sure she heard a faint noise coming from downstairs. Blinking her eyes, she scans the room to identify the sound but finds nothing. She slowly sits up to begin strutting downstairs to the source of the noise. Her eyes gloss over the small details of their luxurious house as she wanders over to the kitchen.

𝘛𝘪𝘯𝘨......

𝘛𝘪𝘯𝘨......

𝘛𝘪𝘯𝘨......

It rings again, sticking in her mind too damn much. She turns to the window, noticing a black shadow cast out, visibly there. Reluctantly, she pulls her eyes away to look over to another sound. A voice, an urgent one.

Following it, she heads towards the drawer full of knives. Picking one up, it feels familiar in her grasp. She tilts her head at it, almost in interest. But then, swiftly handling the knife, she attains a small yet certainly effective revolver.

With one last look to the window, she stands in the center of her pristine living room only to stab her fit abdomen, repeatedly. The wound forms quickly as enormous amounts of blood spill from her stomach, staining the clean floor. She begins to tumble down, now on her knees. Her white night-gown now drenched in her voluminous blood. The tingles of the wound barely effect her, resulting in barely any flinching from the brunette.

But as she notices that her death is now just coming along too slowly, she hesitantly brings the revolver up to the center of her forehead, her pointer finger near the trigger. Now, she looks toward the stairs, to see her husband just staring at the sight. His eyes blankly blink at her, his body barely moving a muscle.

𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨 !

It goes off, the bullet going straight through her head, directly to her brain. It sticks inside somewhere in the lower regions of her head. Her now lifeless body collapses on the floor, now on her back. Her eyes stay open, not closing even without any life in them. Donovan only glances over to her fresh corpse. Within a matter of seconds, he heads for the wine cabinet with some of the most aged bottles they had. Quickly enough, he downs almost the whole thing within record time.

Now, stumbling even more so than his wife was only moment ago, he trudges up to the roof of their abundant home. With each sluggish step, his mind was blank, void of any specific feeling or thought.

He finally reaches the roof, looking over the sight of the starry night above. The stars twinkled with their might, setting quite the sight. Just as quickly, he tilts his head and sets his attention on the bountiful yard below him. Four and a half floors were between him and the space below. Without another glance or thought, Donovan takes a few steps forward, resulting in his head being stuck on one of their fence's sharp ends as his decapitated body laid on the now heavily, red dosed grass field.

From where his head once was, blood began to spew and ooze from the area. His body had been involuntary shaking because of every vein or organ in his body but it soon became quite still. His head's eyes were full of death but they still remained open, somehow.

Both Vera and Donovan Jones were dead, much so. The life went out of their eyes, to be never seen again as their corpses began to slowly decay as the hours went by of the night.

As the early of the dawn came, little Sage Jones woke up yawning from her peaceful sleep in the night. The seven month old was blindly oblivious to what had happened in the course of a few hours and was still a bustling ray of sunshine but no one knew how long that would last.

| 𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊 |

𝘚𝘰 𝘶𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘺