Days of Horror

Day 5: A Boys Best Friend

October 14, 1961.

He's at it again.

That innocent yet idiotic boy of yours.

Always messing around with women, always thinking that they will do him no harm.

But you know better. You know what those girls will do to your sweet innocent boy. They'll tear him apart, leave him with nothing.

It's happened to you before. Just in the opposite. Met a nice man, fell in love with him, raised what should have been the perfect family.

Only for him to tear everything you'd built apart like children's toys.

You scoff, shaking your head as you cross the wet ground, heading towards the motels office.

It's a story that has happened time and time gain. People are a vain and cruel race, caring only about themselves. It's something that your poor sweet boy has yet to understand. Something he may never come to know.

But that's why your here.

Your here to protect him, to batter away the darkness that tries to swallow him whole.

Stepping into the motels office, you study both the keys hanging in the case and the check in sheet.

There are so few names in the register to begin with, it isn't hard to find the wicked girl's name.

Janet Crane.

You let out a small snort. It's exactly as you thought. Yet another whore that's spinning your sweet boy's heart like a top.

Based on the keys, it looks like the bitch is staying in room number 1. Another sign that your son is being twisted around. He always liked to give girls room 1. Especially the ones he "liked".

A smile spreads across your withered and wrinkled face. Maybe you could use your sons foolishness to your advantage.

Walking through the main room, you enter into your son's office, doing your best to ignore those terrible and disgusting stuffed birds he keeps.

Honestly, the fact that he can somehow gain a woman's attention is a mystery you will never solve.

Beneath the birds, lies a framed picture. Lifting it up and setting it down, you lean down, looking right through the little peephole the picture concealed and giving you a good look into room 1.

Norman thought that you didn't know about his little peep hole.

But he should know by now: he can't keep any secrets from you.

The room is empty, the bathroom door shut, bed still made.

For a brief second, you think that the woman has slipped out and has gone up to the main house to try and seduce your boy.

Then the sound of rushing water seeps through the hole.

Another smile gathers on your face. The little bitch is taking a shower. No doubt trying to clean herself up before going in for the kill.

It doesn't matter. All that does is that she's distracted.

Giving you the opportunity to strike.

In an instant, your out the door and in front of room 1. The door opens without so much as a noise and you creep in, careful not to make a sound.

You tip toe across the small motel room, approaching the door with an almost catlike silence.

Ever so slightly you turn the bathroom handle, sliding the door open. At the same time, you reach one hand behind your back, closing it around a smooth wooden object.

The door opens wider, revealing the woman's silhouette in the shower's curtain.

She doesn't even turn as you creep across the tile floor, hand tightening on the wood handle.

Your other hand grabs hold of the edge of the curtain.

As the other pulls out a large kitchen knife.

The curtain flies back, causing the girl to turn.

Her eyes widened, mouth opened, and a scream exploded from her mouth as the knife came down like a hammer.

The blade bite's into the girls chest, blood spurting like a fountain.

You don't stop. The knife plunges back into the skin again.

And again. And again. And again.

Blood spurted from the now many wounds, dripping down into the tub and spiraling down the drain.

The woman's scream started to die off, becoming more of a shriek.

The now bloody knife strikes down once more embedding itself fully in the girls neck. She let out one final gasp before falling down into the tub, blood flowing freely.

She lay there for a few seconds, life slowly fading from her eyes.

You stand there, blood staining your face, long messy, grey hair.

And the large smile nearly cracking your face in half.

This feeling, the feeling of taking control, of killing for the one you cared about, it was exhilarating. It was a wonder why you fought it for so long. Why you tried to show people how harmless and innocent you were.

Because the truth is, you aren't innocent. Your a mother. No mother is without a bit of darkness inside them.

After all, what wouldn't a mother do for their lo–

Your train of thought comes to a screeching halt. You blink, smile melting away, brow furrowing, eyes locking on the dead girl.

Only... it's not a dead girl anymore.

It's a woman dressed in a prison guard uniform, soaked red with blood from the makeshift shiv buried deep in her neck.

And you aren't back at Bates motel.

Your in a prison shower room, wearing an orange jumpsuit.

And you aren't a woman.

Your... your a man...

Your her son.

And you... you wouldn't... you couldn't...

Eyes widen in horror as you fall backwards, landing on the water and blood soaked ground. Your hands go to your mouth, covering it in shock and horror.

"No, No, No, No..."

You can't believe it. This shouldn't have happened.

Mother said she wouldn't do this again.

Said she wouldn't hurt a fly.

Said...

Your mind trails off as you stare at the body, not even noticing the yells, alarms and heavy footsteps.

Guards pour in from all sides of the shower, each one coming to a stop, eyes widening at the dead guard and you, sitting there amidst the carnage.

"Jesus, Norman." One of the guards said in the silence. "What the hell did you do?"

You turn slowly, glazed eyes looking at the assembled guards, seeing them for the first time.

"I- I didn't do this." You swallow hard, looking back at the body.

"It... it was mother."