Demons Don't Feel Love

Chapter seven: In Cold Blood

Annabelle's POV

When I woke up, I stared up at the ceiling for several minutes, introspecting and trying to determine exactly how I was feeling. Nothing stood out to me immediately, so I took that as 'feeling better'. I looked around for Daren, hoping he was nearby.

I got out of bed and went downstairs to look for him. my mom was making dinner in the kitchen.

"Hey have you seen Daren?" She turned around and smiled at me.

"Oh, honey, there you are! Daren said you weren't feeling well so he went to the store to pick up some things for you."

"That's sweet of him." I said. "what's for dinner?"

"Slow roasted barbeque pork and homemade dinner rolls with butter and honey." She said with a broad smile.

I always thought she should be a chef, and I even brought it up a few times; but she always just smiled at me and said

"Annabelle, the best chefs in the world aren't found in restaurants. They are at home, and they are mothers."

To me she wasn't just my adoptive parent, she was my mom. She took care of me, made sure I was safe, and she always told me how beautiful I was even with all my scars. She cried endlessly for me when she found out about my self harm.

I couldn't hide the scars forever and I swore she would send me back to the hospital, but she just cried and held me. Between her and Daren I learned how to love myself. It was a beautiful transformation; and even though these scars are permanent, the feelings that made them don't have to be. Things can always get better.

The door opened and Daren made his way to the kitchen. He looked at me and smiled.

Come with me. He thought to me. I went upstairs with him to the bedroom.

"You feeling better?" He asked me, setting the things he bought on the floor by the bed.

"Yeah. Think I had some sort of moment of clarity or whatever. I'm feeling more optimistic now."

"I'm glad you're okay." He said.

"What's in the bag?" I asked.

"A few of my favorite play things." He said with a smile. He pulled out several knives, and began explaining their purpose one by one.

"The meat cleaver– a butchers best friend. Only the finest for severing bone and tendons with ease.
The carving knife– exactly as the name states. Paired with great hand-eye coordination, creates the Ability to carve with care and precision, with great attention to detail.
A boning knife– for removing the smaller bones.
A scalpel– I have my own, uh, creative uses for this tool." He laughed as he put it down on the table.

"Whats the rope for?" I asked curiously.

"Not for tying nooses, so don't get any ideas." He stated firmly. I felt this macabre joke was simply a way to avoid confirming what it would really be used for, but I assumed it didn't matter, as he said it was all to be used for killing the demon.

"And last but not least, we have this; a Smith and Wesson 9mm pistol. While it is not for the entertainment of my suicidal tendencies, it is for your protection. Keep this with you at all times, should something happen don't hesitate to use it. Just don't do some stupid female shit and accidentally shoot me, okay? He said with a laugh.

I smirked and shot him the middle finger. "You're a dick."

"What do you wanna do?" He asked. "I plan to do something fun before the demon ruins our night."