Our Bloody Girls (Sequel to The Killer's Girl)

Chapter 33- Family Time

Opal's P.O.V.

We were at our last victims house. The last person who was there when my sister was brutally raped. The last friend. This time, however, it was different. This time, we had my mother. Trust me, you do not want to feel a mother's wrath.

Home alone, with her cat, Jess turned the pages in her book. My mother's hands were clenched in fists.

"I'm going to beat the shit out of her. And then, I'm gonna rip that hair out of that pretty little head." she hissed.

"No, Iris. We have a plan. Got to stick with it." He held up a strap and a back full of large bricks, which he'd been carrying with ease.

"I know, I know." Tucked under her arm was a big with a portable table. Smiling, my mom pointed inside.

"Go. Now. Get this girl."

"Mom, we've done this before. This is your first. We know what we're doing." I sighed, annoyed.

"Don't talk back to me, Missy. Get the fuck in that house and lure your friend to the bathroom."

I set down the backpack I'd carried here (for specific purposes) and climbed in through the laundry room window, falling onto a washing machine a little too loud and hurting my shoulder. Staggering to my feet, I looked at my arm, where I'd cut myself somehow. Blood trickled down and oozed in a tiny scarlet stream. Half immortality: don't age for shit, but as easily harmed as a human. Since only one person gave Jazz and I their immortality, we had to split it.

The stream began to increase. Fuck, this hurt... I moved my hand to it and held tightly. My parents had heard it, and were arguing.

"Iris, she's okay."

"Okay? My fucking baby fell on something! That was loud!"

"Not as loud as you right now. Ssh. We don't want to alert this girl."

"I'm going in there, that's my Opal. She clearly hurt herself. Just let me wedge myself in."

"Iris, that window is too small for you-" He quickly shut himself up.

"Are you suggesting I'm fat? You motherfucking douche-a-dick!"

I stuck my thumb up in the air, so it could be seen through the window, to calm my mom down a bit. She was too busy screaming at my dad about accidentally calling her fat to notice, but he did and nodded.

"You're such a goddamn prick! Señor tiny penis, I will have you know I am absolutely not fat."

"Iris, I didn't mean to say you were fat..."

"Then what were you saying?! I'm too big?"

"Big asses are hot! I like them!"

"So you're saying my ass is big? The hell, man?!"

This was one of the rare times my parents bickered. Last time, it was my dad yelling at my mom for not wearing a big enough pad and getting menstrual blood on him. For all the blood he gets on him, he whines about my mom's period getting on him.

We were lucky Jess had her ear buds in. She didn't see me walk in. Sitting on the edge of her bed, I examined her body. It was... Nice. Girls has nice bodies. I mean, don't get me wrong, guys were hot too, but I couldn't help but think that women had a certain... Sexiness to them. Was that bad? Eh, whatever.

Killing time.

I poked her shoulder. As she turned to look at me, I made a fist, positioned my thumb so that I wouldn't hurt it, and slugged right into her nose. She let out a whiny little scream and ruby colored juices covered my fists. I uppercut her, then proceeded to punch her stomach.

Wheezing and hacking, Jess reached for her phone. I smashed it with my foot, preventing any hope for her to call the police on us.

Dragging her to the bathroom, I held her against the wall, ignoring her pleas. Her lipstick smeared all over my hand as I covered her mouth. The greasy feeling disgusted me, but I did not budge. I would not budge. I could not budge.

"You knew you were last." I hissed. "You fucking knew it. After what you did to my sister, Jazz, you had to know I was coming for you. I killed all the others. They all died, one by one. I left you, living. I made you paranoid. I am what you saw in the silence. I am what's going to be your end. I'm going to be the last thing you see. I have no mercy. Not for you. The others did horrible things to her, and they all died in misery. But Jazz told me about you. Word for word, she informed me 'The Brown haired girl sat their and did nothing.' And that's what makes me furious. You sat there and did nothing. Nothing. You're a fucking monster."

"Doing nothing is just as bad if not worse than what they did. You could have helped her, but you did nothing. And that's why I have no forgiveness for you. That's why I won't feel bad killing you." Her eyes were wide as she struggled, but I didn't move.

My dad and mom got in somehow, probably from another window. When they saw us, Mom walked over with the portable table.

"Pick her up, Opal." she barked. She set the table underneath Jess and put her down. Dad used a strap he made from a few belts and wrapped it around her knees, fastening it as tightly as he could.

"Are we ready?" he asked, smirking, getting the bag out.

"We are." I answered.

"Fuck yes." He put the first brick underneath her feet. She seemed confused. He added another, and another. He stacked bricks up under the bitch's feet.

She began screaming around the third brick, which my mother responded by punching her straight in the throat.

At about eight bricks, a sickening snapping noise ran through the room. My dad finished at eight. At this point, Jess couldn't stop crying. Every time she began to cry too hard, she got a punch to the throat.

We released her and watches as she pitifully and pathetically tried to drag herself to the door. My mother grabbed her and kicked pulled her up a flight of stairs, proceeding to kick her down. More cracking noises filled the air.

"We're just about done here, doll. Now, do us a favor, and just enjoy the show." We got a canister of gasoline from the garage and poured it everywhere, specifically on her.

"Burn, bitch, burn..." muttered my mother, who gave Jess a couple more kicks to the jaw and punches to the throat. Oh, and she spit on her, with that nasty, disgusting smokers spit. Stay classy, Mom.

Before my mother lit the lighter in her pocket, I grabbed the bag and brought it inside, emptying the contents all over. Hairbrushes, different kinds of make-up, skimpy clothes, and photos of my old (dead) friends.

The people who I once held above my family were now six feet under, and it was at my hands. No more pain, no more guilt.

I'm ready for This chapter of my life. This, rude, cold, hurtful chapter that shoved my family away to be over.

We all exited and my mother handed the lighter to me. I lit it and tossed it in. Before we could leave, my mother looked back at the window where the cat was.

"I'm not leaving that cat." She had Dad boost her up so she could climb to the window and get the cat. She jumped down, hugging him close.

"He'd make a cute Andy, don't ya think?" she asked us. My dad shrugged, and I nodded to make her happy. I took my father's hand (the one that struck me) And walked home next to the mother that once thought of me as a slut, and was willing to say so. And I earned both of those things.

My father kissed the top of my head and I smiled to myself, hugging his arm.

I was wrong.

The world is not a self-centered place.