Tobias Amos slid the knife into the drawers, stealing a quick look back. He stared at his hands in dismay; it was as red as the sweet chilli sauce Mama bought a day earlier.
‘Where are you, Tobias?’
Mama’s voice bellowed a few yards away. He scanned the room in nanoseconds; saw the red gown Mama loved wearing on special occasions hanging loosely on the sparsely filled wardrobe. He dashed towards it, yanked it off the rails, wrapping it delicately around his crimson fingers, allowing the blood to soak through, his eyes the colour of a limpid pool.
He closed his eyes and was transported to the events of eighty-six thousand four hundred seconds earlier. He could feel the knife ripping through the supple milky flesh, the bones cracked, the gurgles of blood splintered about the basement like the paintings of Michelangelo. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his long scrawny neck.
Mama entered the tiny room, she took in everything, the deranged look on her son’s face belied the calmness she felt. Tobias Amos stood still like a statue, watching his mother’s reaction.
There was an uneasy silence.
‘What have you done?’ She asked in an icy tone, her hands shaking uncontrollably.
There was no answer. He kept his eyes down, all the feeling of conquest and elation he’d felt had evaporated like a mist in the night.
‘Tobias Amos, what have you done?’ This time, Mama inched closer, towering over her whimpering son, whose bravado had dissipated…
I haven’t written for quite a while but today, this just came pouring out. I have lots of manuscripts I’m working on, and lumping this with other unfinished projects is a mammoth task. However, I don’t believe in letting a good story plot go to waste. We’ll see how this goes!
I hope you’ll all have a wonderful weekend. I’ve visited several websites and blogs, if I haven’t been to yours, please bear with me, I’ll touch base soon.
Much love friends!