One Shots!

Dear Diary, My Diary

A/N: This is a fanfiction of the horror/supernatural thriller movie Mercy.

I know what I have to do. I know what I'm supposed to do. I know that if I don't do this, she'll kill me and my family. She's crazy! But... She's also my grandmother. "It's ok, Georgie. Remember, she's trying to kill you! You HAVE to do this!" my invisible friend urged. I only knew she was invisible because everyone is always asking me who I'm talking to. "You're right, but I really don't want to! I love her!" I protested. She handed me the ax from the basement, silently pushing me to do it. To drive an ax into my grandmother's neck and cut her in half. Just like my grandfather did to himself all those years ago.

The ax was heavier than I had expected. The blade was rusted, and the wood was old, but it was still obviously strong. I hear her screaming. I slowly creep towards the door. Her back is turned to me. I slip behind her, raise it up, and...

I drive it through her head. Again, and again, until she lay in bloody pieces on the floor in front of my feet. I can feel her blood on my face and hands. I know she's dead, but I can still feel a presence. It's dark, and feels like that old Weeping Book I found under the floorboards. Suddenly, I fly across the room. I bust through the door to the cellar, and land sprawled over my mother's body.

I'm still holding the ax. I realize this when I look down and see Mom's head no longer fully attached to her shoulders. More blood is on my body now. I see the Book, lying innocently on the floor. The presence is gone. At least, I don't sense it anywhere near here.

I hear sirens. The police. They must have heard the noise and come to investigate. I head up the stairs to meet them, noticing that both my friend and the darkness is gone. It's just me, the bloody ax, and the dead bodies of my family. Buddy is nowhere to be found. Had he called the police?

"FREEZE! POLICE, DROP YOUR WEAPON!" a voice shouted. Blinding lights were flashing in the house now. I squinted against the glare and looked behind me for who they were talking to. Hadn't I left the ax in the cellar? "I'M NOT ASKING AGAIN! PUT THE AX DOWN!" the same voice barked. I glanced at my hand and slowly lowered the ax, keeping eye contact with the officers. I straightened up, and they rushed into the house.

They found Grandma. In the harsh glare of the police flashlights, the whole scene looked much more macabre than it had in the dark. Blood was splashed high up on the walls, tables and chairs were upended, and in the middle of it all was a bloody pile of meat and organs that used to be my grandmother. Funnily enough, I didn't feel anything looking at her. Only a slight nausea from the stench. I wonder why that is?

I regret killing Mom. That was entirely an accident. I didn't mean to cut her head off, it just happened. I was no more able to stop it than I was able to convince Jim and Charlotte that I was telling the truth.

I'm at the police station now. They're asking all kinds of questions, like "How do you feel?" or "Why did you kill them?" I don't have any answers right now. I feel numb, but the psychiatrist lady doesn't believe me. I didn't mean to kill mom, but the policeman is relentless. They think I'm crazy, like Aunt Jinny.

Now they put me in a "home for troubled teens". Bullshit. It's a nuthouse, a mental hospital. It's just for teenagers instead of full grown adults. At least they let me shower.

I haven't spoken since we got here. Finally, the therapist snapped. "Tell me one thing that's on your mind right now, George. Anything at all." I looked her in the eye, instead of at the table. I said, "I know they're here..." She's shocked. Good.

More questions. Why can't they just leave me alone...?