Ooh, full of death, you've been warned. Stealing souls may seem fun but with the job comes a rain cloud of guilt. [back into third person point of view]
Lily strode down a deserted dirt path with only one thing on her mind: how to kill a family of five. Sticking plainly out of her left back pocket was a miniature packet snuggled tight against a revolver. So many ways to end their lives but how many ways were there to get out of the guilt? Lily shrugged as she scuffed her feet along the ground, not even bothering to pick her legs up when she walked. "Burdens, I carry the largest of all ..." she whispered to a decrepit weeping willow. Sobbing on her shoulder, it provided the shade she no longer could feel. Hands intertwining with each passing leaf, the tree told her exactly how to do it.
Arriving finally in the suburban neighborhood of her victims, Lily stuck her hand out expectantly. The clouds wept greatly while the possessed girl smirked in time to the pitter-patter of each drop. Her soaked clothes clung like a sponge to her pasty skin and she was ready to present herself to the family. Such a plain, cookie cutter house stood before her; it was identical to everyone else's. A picket fence adorned the lawn and Lily couldn't help but think of typical such a sight was. Just barely she could see through their front window and it grew obvious that they were prepping for dinner. "Perfect."
One ghostly finger sunk into the doorbell, her shivering figure down on its knees. "Coming!" a woman's voice was barely audible. Doorknob screeching open, the woman's eyes fell down upon Lily as her hands flew up to her face. "You poor thing! All out in the rain, come in come in!" she wailed while ushering the mischievous killer inside. Surprising enough she just allowed Lily to lay on the plush couch in the front room, not even bothering to check her. "They're just letting their guards down for imminent failure," Lily cackled softly. Two twin boys sidled up to the couch and proceeded in prodding her.
"What?" she snapped. The boys fell backwards, unaware she was even alive. "Get out of our house, demon woman! Your skin isn't all tan and pinkish like ours!" the older one piped up.
"Cha!" shouted the other.
"Boys, don't pester the girl. I think she's coming down with a severe cold and her forehead has no heat to it. Hmm, I wonder what we could do for her ..." the mother had come back from the bedrooms with clean clothes for Lily, but she declined.
"If you don't mind, could I help with dinner? I hate to be too much of a burden and I'm quite the cook. It'd be selfish of me not to offer my help," Lily's teeth gleamed. Mother obliged of course, not wanting to turn down a kind stranger, and led her to the kitchen. The father was slaving over a pot of scorching hot stew when Lily entered the room. He dropped the ladle, quickly attending to the new person. "Erm, hi. I was wondering what my wife was fussing over in the back rooms. Welcome to our home ...?" he offered his hand.
Lily shook it weakly but the handshake with a slight pinch. "I'll look after the stew, if that's all right," her toothy smile appeared once more. The adults shrugged before leaving her all alone in the room. Taking the package from inside her slim back pocket, she tore it open and breathed in the contents. "Oh how I love the aroma of poison," Lily snickered. Slowly she flooded the pot with the fast acting powder and stirred it up to not seem so obvious. If all went according to plan, within five minutes of swallowing the toxin, they'd all be face down in their bowls.
She scurried quickly out of the kitchen and stole her spot at the table. Mother swiftly set the table and set all the food stuffs in their appropriate places, all with an award winning grin. Father took his seat nimbly while fixing his napkin into his lap. Those boys from the couch incident reappeared, giggling madly and dragging their tiny sister behind them. As everyone finally became seated, mother motioned for them to dig in. Secretly eyeing what everyone was taking, Lily filled her plate will all but the stew. But her plan slightly backfired. Only father, mother, and one of the boys had filled their bowls with the liquid death.
Father yawned heavily after but a few minutes of masticating. "Dear, what's wrong?" mother asked curiously.
"Nothing. I just feel ... a tad queasy," he held his hands up to his lips to keep from vomiting. Lily sniggered after noticing that mother had been showing the same symptoms, as did the little boy. Face first into the table they fell and off their chairs they collapsed right into the carpet. The little daughter frowned upon seeing her family "fall asleep", thus beginning to wiggle and whine madly. Also, the remaining son had already plopped out of his chair, inspecting each dead family member on the way. "I knew you were a demon, I knew it all along," his finger waggled at Lily.
"Guilty as charged!" Lily winked, hands shifting to her back pocket once more.
"Don't pull your voodoo magic on me, don't'chu think 'bout it!" fear surged through his veins.
"Sorry kiddo but I can't have you giving away my secrets," the revolver was exposed, Lily closed one eye and looked down the barrel of the gun. Before she had the chance to shoot the boy dashed out of her line of sight, taking his sister with him. "Give it up boy or you're gonna die!" Lily called out after him. She heard his sneakers sounding from upstairs and a door lock after him. "Open this fucking door or you'll get a bullet in the back of the neck!" her threats weren't scaring the boy enough.
Using the strength of her ebony boots, she kicked the door open and wielded the gun menacingly. A silent prayer between the children was exchanged, the safety unlocked, the trigger was pulled. Ever familiar liquid splattered on the fraying wallpaper of the bathroom, a lifeless body slumped onto a screaming girl's lap. Right between the eyes is where she got him, but not on purpose. "W-Why? We never did nothin' to you! Bring him back, bring my bwother back," shrill screams from the sister left Lily covering her ears.
Lily was a monster for doing that, but even more so because her conscience hadn't even tried to stop her from pulling the trigger. There was no doubt in her mind that she needed to do this which made her even more afraid of herself. She shoved herself to the bathtub, wrapping her bony fingers around the knobs. A black plug had already been placed on the drain so she didn't need to waste on anytime finding one. While she was conducting her own little plan, the puny girl shriveled up into the fetal position.
"C'mere or you're going to end up with your brains splattered on the freakin' wall," Lily growled. Of course the sister had no other choice because frankly, she thought there was still hope for her survival. And of course she was sorely mistaken. Lily took a hold of her hair, dunking her victim into the soapy water. It never seemed to end, the flailing of the little girl that is. But when it finally did stop, Lily had to wash her hands in the sink vigorously. "Why did I even just do that? Just to show that I can be just as tough as the rest of them when I want something dear to me? So I could show Saint Jimmy that all his whining is actually making me try harder at doing this? If the Devil can see me right now, he must be either very pleased or silently fuming with shame and anger."
Although she left the evidence behind, she did not care. Her fingers lacked prints on the tips, her boots left no imprints on the carpets. Even if they had traced the poison in the stew, would anyone find any clues to a culprit? Many suspects maybe, but not the one they'd be looking for. "I wonder how the Devil picks these people," she pondered while sitting on a rock, waiting for the sprinkling rain to cease. "They must've been total sinners, but how can any family be so cruel and yet so perfect?
Coming to the conclusion that none of her questions weren't going to be magically answered, Lily shook the rain off before setting off again. And somewhere quite far away, Gerard was frantically searching for his soul-less new friend. "Why does it seem like everyone I get close to just turns out to be the wrong person for me?" he panted, a bit out of breath. As if the wind was blowing, which it wasn't, the spot next to him suddenly grew cold. "Maybe you're just not close to her yet," some voice came from nowhere.
Gerard turned around for approximately a minute before actually facing the voice. "I'm pretty sure that in my heart I'm close."
"The feeling is not mutual, m'dear. She feels contempt for you, does she not?"
"She's dead, how can she even feel back? Any bright ideas, erm, voice of the unknown?"
"Take it from me, the Saint of broken strings. Sing her something soft, sad and delicate. Or loud and out of key. Sing her anything."
The voice evaporated quicker than it had appeared, leaving Gerard only a tad puzzled. Down on the horizon the sun was fleeting to the other side of the world, not waiting for the hopeless boy. "It never ends, it never ends."