A boy who’s excluded from playing with the neighborhood kids decides to create a masterpiece, something they’d never think to do — in order to be accepted in by the group. But what happens when someone encounters him a little too soon? Rated for gruesome scenes.

About this: I know it’s morbid and crazy. My sister, who’s read my ‘To Kill a Unicorn’ story on my other account, asked me to write a story similar but dealing with racoons. This is what I came up with. Granted, it has no Tommy or Suzie, no romance at all, but it does delve in a mind very similar to Tommy. If you’ve never read that story, then that’s ok, you can still read this and understand (since this is an entirely different story). Also, I'm not a professional on the insides of bodies or animals, I nearly failed human anatomy in high school, so please excuse any wrong descriptions. Please review, I’d love to hear your opinions :)

The Bloody Raccoon

by eVil-uNicorns

The raccoon was bloody, splatters of its insides caked the boy that held it down, the pocket knife blade tearing into flesh as he dug and cut.

He had wanted to create those cool hats that he’d seen on TV, the ones that had a raccoon’s fur and tail. Ever since he saw one, and asked his father on how to get one, he’d been anticipating his time in catching one; a young raccoon, freshly killed and hunted by him.

He, of course, knew that it would be all the more telling if he caught and killed one himself. He could just see himself, walking down the street, with his raccoon hat — his coonskin — which was what it was called. The kids would be so jealous, especially when he’d explain in detail of how he came across it. How he killed it, and gutted it into perfection.

“Well,” he muttered to himself as he moved the blade back and forth along the stomachs fur, the motion very similar to sawing on wood. “They’ll definitely let me play with them now.”

Nobody would dare make their own coonskin hat at such an age. The boy knew that he’d be the first eight-year-old to ever do such a magnificent accomplishment. He’d be praised by all. “Or at least I better be,” he ground out, clutching the handle tight in his small grasp.

He deserved to be treated like he was the best, because in fact, the boy knew he was better then all of them. And soon, they would understand this.

They had to . . .

Blood squirted heavily on the boy’s face when he began to cut deeper, peeling the stomach lining out, and began to remove the organs of the small dead animal. The blood filled the boy’s nostrils, the scent making him smile in glee. He’d never smelt so much blood in his life. The most he’d ever catch a whiff of was when he’d go hunting with his dad and they’d catch a deer or rabbit on occasion, and the smell never quite reached with such intensity as the raccoon’s blood did.

The boy found that he loved such a smell.

It made him want to smell it more and often. Perhaps he could make more coonskins for the other kids? They’d surely let him play with them if he did so. But of course, the boy knew he’d have to make theirs smaller; baby raccoons would be more preferable.

He was after all the best and deserved thus.

“Oi, what’re you doing Caleb?” The voice of one of the neighborhood kids suddenly asked, his appearance having gone unnoticed by the boy for some time; the boy, who was known as Caleb, looked up from his bloodied raccoon, narrowing his eyes at the kid who dared show up when he wasn’t finished.

“Nothing,” Caleb huffed, leaning his body over the animal in order to hide it from the other boy's prodding gaze. “Go away!”

The other boy’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, surveying the scene before him. “Why is their blood all over the place?” He asked, his voice trembling slightly. Caleb knew he was taking in the blood splatters that covered him and the grass, he could see red everywhere, so he knew the other kid could too.

Caleb glared up at the other boy, sitting up to reveal the unfinished creation. He didn’t want to show the neighbor boy, but he knew he had no choice. The boy would’ve just shoved Caleb out of the way and saw for himself sooner or later. “It’s the coonskin I’m planning on making. It isn’t finished yet, Alan, so just go home.”

The other boy gaped, his eyes bugging wide. “Caleb! You’re so stupid! You can’t just . . . You don’t just . . .”

“What?!” Caleb yelled, leaping to his feet and griping his pocket knife in anger. “You’re gonna tell me not to make it cuz you don’t want me to be cool. You’re just scared that all the other kids will like me more.”

Alan took a step back from the boy that was drenched in blood, his face turning ghostly pale from the sight. “Y-you’re crazy!”

“Shut-up!” Caleb screamed. “I’m not crazy. I’m cool.” He knew that Alan would probably do something like this. He was always pretending to be Caleb’s friend, trying to get the other kids to include him — but he knew. He knew that Alan just wanted it all for himself!

Like the saying went, ‘keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer’. That was what he’d heard from his father when he’d told him of the other kids bullying him and not including him in anything.

Alan was the enemy. He wanted to be the cool leader, but Caleb wouldn’t allow that. He’d stop this stupid kid, then finish carving the raccoon into a nice coonskin hat, that all would be jealous of.

He’d finally made the decision on how to deal with this.

And so, Caleb approached the pale boy in front of him, his smile blossoming wide with such happiness when the other boy ran. He’d be having quite a hunt today . . . Perhaps he’d even make Alan into a nice little possession. All he’d have to do was carve a bit more. He’d surely be covered in every inch with blood by the time he was finished with both, raccoon and boy.

“What a fun day,” he insanely laughed out. “A fun day indeed.”

-

--

---

--

-

.fin.

-

--

---

--

-

Any errors?! Tell me, and I'll fix 'em right away ;) Reviews are greatly appreciated by the way!!