Bad things come to those who try

“What’s going on, Mommy? What happened to Daddy?”

“Daddy is taking a nap, honey,” I replied, staring at my ex’s prone body, “don’t worry about him.”

She shook her head, “No, I meant Daddy, not him.”

I stared at my ex and then at him. Why would she think that he was her dad? He should have meant nothing to her but apparently it was her real dad that didn’t mean anything.

I checked his pulse once more and found it still there.

“He’s just had an accident. He’s resting now.”

She sighed, “I was hoping he was dead.”

I stared at her as her brother appeared.

“Is daddy dead?” he asked her.

She shook her head.

“Oh, well should we do it for him then?” he asked her as I stared in disbelief. I couldn’t believe I was hearing this from two six year old kids. Was this because of what I did? Or was this because of That? “I mean, Daddy and him are both asleep and all we’d have to do is stab ‘em with this.”

He held up one of my knives that I had lost when I left. My best friend was behind them and let out a scream when she heard what they were saying.

They turned on her and before I knew what had happened, she was dead.

They turned around and stared at me; I knew what they were looking for. They were waiting to see my reaction that way they could kill me if they needed to. I sighed and performed the most nonchalant shrug I could. Seeing that I didn’t care, my ex followed her quickly.

When they turned to do the same to him, I stopped them.

“Wait, he’s mine,” I said slowly making my way over to where I could face him; it didn’t matter that I couldn’t move my leg, I could still get around kind of easily.

I leaned over and woke him up with a touch to the shoulder. As he met my eyes, I slid the handless knife into my hand. I could feel them converging on us; they would do it if I didn’t. it went straight into my pocket and I turned to them to ask for a blade. I opened my hand and offered it to them.

“May I have a knife?” I asked, trying to imitate their voice and way of talking, “I want to do this one myself.”

They exchanged glances and then she pulled a knife from her pocket, which I suddenly noticed bulged in a peculiar fashion.

I allowed her to set it into my hand before I turned back to him.

“Well then, you ready to die, Thom?” I asked him, playing with the knife in a way to suggest I was about to do what they wanted me to do. We were destined to kill each other in the end but this was not the time; he just didn’t know that.

His eyes widened in fear and he began trying to cry for help. I cut him off with a fierce kiss.
The kids began to vocalize certain issues they had with what I just did, but Thom had grabbed the other knife from my pocket by then and when I turned to “say” something to them we both sliced them open.

Blood rained down on us since we appeared to have opened up an artery in each child. As the rain came down, my children performed their dying wish; attempt to kill the woman who created them.

Thom stopped them and sliced open a few more spots on their bodies. His own blood loss grew as they retaliated or at least tried.

They issued one last cry of pain and died.