TW: Death, Murder, Suicide by cop, hints of assault - not brought into written detail, abuse

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Her first kill was her mother. Tearing through her flesh, ripping her near in half like a vulture consuming a carcass. There was nothing normal about her. This sweet child of mine with her pale skin that was like marble, eyes mismatched and jarring. She glared into the souls around her, hungry and yearning.

At five she had begun to pluck the fishes out of the fishing bowls and watching as they struggled for their source of breathing. Mouths gaping open like caves that dotted the nearby oceans. Though she never allowed them to die. She was far too curious about what else could be discovered in her little experiments. Over time, little pieces of the fish would be missing. It began with the fins, then the scales, until the gills and eyes found themselves sprinkled in various places. One such place was her guardian at the time’s food. A soup that was wretched, made better by the collection of eyes that the young child began to collect.

In the summer of her seventh year, she began to dissect the dead birds and animals that she would find on the side of the road near her house or had been devoured by the nearby coyotes. Sometimes, when bodies were short, she would go out and look for worms, chopping them out and mixing them up in the ketchup and mustard. If she was feeling extra courteous, she would even hide it in the makeup the woman married to the guardian wore.

She was eleven when her mouth killed again. Blood staining her teeth, innocence lost. They had touched her in places she did not want. Her mouth couldn’t say no, her voice broken the day she was born. The voices whispered in her ears, praising her image; they had even cheered her on when she was doing the killing. Clamping her teeth into their necks as if she were a shark consuming human skin. Blood squirted from the jugulars of those who had violated her. Killing them had been a pleasure but it was the after that she truly admired.

Their bodies were skinned and burned, cut up and deposited into the earth to feed her mother. Strewed out in public for all to see; that true horror was not just a myth. This girl with eyes of purple and green, was a viper. Luring beings who knew not what she was like a black widow. It was their fault for falling for it. Dutifully, she pulled black strands of hair pulled away from her full face, her beauty drawing her victims to their impending doom.

Mother was pleased with her; I should know. Her voice drew her daughter to slumber, singing the abyss around her skin. Smoke surrounded her being, consuming her soul. Her skin held the scent of blood on blossoms, her hair silked with that of despair. Those who had been wronged gnawed at her bones like babes at their mother breast. They whispered into her ear, slipped into her mouth, chewing on her tongue, sucking at her teeth. Their song was greater when the glint of her silver glistened in the moonlight, the screams of whoever had been caught in her nest echoing in the night. She adored it when they screamed, to her they were like a harmonious dissonance that would make even deaf people suffer.

In time, the kills grew larger. Innocents, guilty, young and old, nobody was safe. No discrimination was held. How could one discriminate when she held no love for any on that world and cared not for her own well-being? My sweet child of mine like a void, yearning for destruction. Whether it be hers or the worlds. In time though, chaos must find a reign and my youthful daughter was ignorant. Soon she saw the end of the road and was met face to face with those who had wanted to stop her.

These men were not like her, they did not know the purpose of her visit on the land nor did she care. Maybe next time, she had vowed, taking one step then two. Their bullets rung in the air like buzzy bees on hot summer days. She always did love summer.