Author: CucumberHero343 PM
Anya always did love her little Ricky, Her angel. Her boy.Rated: Fiction T - English - Horror/Supernatural - Words: 1,560 - Reviews: 1 - Favs: 2 - Published: 12-06-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3080739
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
They call me crazy, well, not crazy just stupid. Yet it was they who are stupid. For I finally found out how to form his being. My little Ricky. I searched in all the old bible tomes and other religious fables and formed my answer, slowly, oh so freak'n slowly. I figured that I would have to gather the parts separately to form a new shell. All for my Ricky.
I had tried with the old one. Ricky's old body, that is. He had just decomposed on the steal lab table. I had all parts, each stitched together, like puzzle pieces waiting all fresh. Only one left, I sighed. The eyes, the door ways to his soul, his being. His life, my Ricky. His eyes of the earth and life, being filled to the brim with innocence and laughter, and love. Mommy loved her little Ricky. He was always mommy's tiny boy.
"Anya! Your shifts over, you can leave!" A random employee yelled waking me up from my inner dialogue.
I smiled slightly making sure I wasn't suspected of anything. "'Kay. I know when I'm not wanted," I joked, all the while thinking. Could she read my thoughts? Is she going to tell on me? I wont allow it. I WONT!
The female rolled her blue eyes (not as beautiful as my Ricky's brown) and smiled. I left without another word ready to get his eyes. The one's I saw on the school boy at 'Heather Daycare'. The four year old would be perfect. After nights of searching I finally found them. The eyes that belong to my Ricky. How dare that bastard take them from him, from me! I need, deserve those eyes. I live for those eyes. I thrive for those eyes. I will take those eyes, all for my Ricky. He was such a sweet boy and mommy didn't mean to do it. Oh no! I would never mean to do such a thing, it's just that he was always yelling and didn't listen to mommy.
Mommy always loved her innocent angel.
I waited by the house of which I had found on my voyage. I had tried to get the little bastard in other ways and forms but he would never listen and I almost got the police on my ass numerous times. The devil shall die and in his place will be my angel. I could recall my Ricky's voice but mommy didn't need the vocal chords. He would forever by my silent angel. I drummed my fingers against the stirring wheel of my old station wagon. The beating of my fingers matching that of my heart. Not that I cared.
The clock was set at a blinking 8:45, each minute passed felt like a decade, but as the old ones say. Everything good will come from patience. What to do to pass the time? Maybe, I could sleep, take a nap. I will need to be very energized for this night. All of my tools in the backseat waiting to be used. Waiting, forever, waiting. Darkness soon consumed my light headed mind and I dream of my Ricky's first steps.
I was startled awake as my horn blew loudly shaking me from my musing. I glared, the clock stroke 11:27. The lights that were once out opened and I drove my car further behind the trees. Waiting.
"Soon baby, will be together, soon. Oh so soon," I laughed in delight.
I had crept into the house for the fourth and last time. The night was forming shadows on the walls. Mine being that of a walking ghost. It was very pretty. The house was engulfed in trees and other nature things. The air smelt of dust and perfume, I shall take the demon and leave. I walked into his room taking out the gag from my pocket. His room was easier to find this time and I didn't trip over anything along the way. The floor in his room was covered in toy trucks and blocks. The night light shining in the corner. My eyes widened.
He was sprawled across his racing car bed, the woman staring at me from her place. She screamed.
"Get out! Get out! Marshall call the god damn police!" She shrilled her dark skin old and wrinkled. I snarled at the woman pulling out a knife.
It was long and felt heavy in my palms. I lunged forward knocking the both of us onto the floor. My ruby red hair tangling with her thick brown. She hit my face and in the background I could hear the sound of a little boy crying out.
I didn't understand. I am his mother and yet he only cried harder when I reassured him I would be all right. What did that ghastly woman do to my poor baby's head! Why does she not let me get my child. He is mine, mine, mine, MINE! My Ricky. Could she not see that? Our blood is connected as is our bond. Yet here she lays, I, over top her. Trying to take my place by his side.
Pain erupted in my stomach as she kicked me. I dug the knife into her shoulder, the blood staining my hands. She yelped out in pain. Her husband soon came in and pulled me off of his wives dieing form. I snarled biting his hands causing him to drop me. My adrenaline was pumping. Ricky was so close. My boy. I could practically hold him in my arm right now, I took out a gun and shot him straight in the head. That will teach these morons to get in the way of both mine and Ricky's happiness. There lifeless eyes staring empty. Alone
I grabbed the boy with Ricky's eyes dragging him home with me, the cop sirens going off in the distance.
"Let go of me! Let go!" He wailed, big fat tears leaking from his eyes. His nose like a faucet. He was in the back seat struggling against his bounds.
I didn't give him any acknowledgment besides the murmured "Be quite Ricky." The piercing brown eyes starred back at me, there was no laughter causing me to frown.
I didn't understand. Shouldn't my Ricky be happy to see his mommy. Those are his eyes and soul. Ricky would have laughed from his place reaching out to me. 'Mommy, Mommy! Look at the trees.' He would have giggled. Why does he not do that now? Can he not see that I love him. I reassure him of my love, encouraging him to smile and yet;
He just whimpered never looking at me. I tightened my grip on the stirring wheel. Why wouldn't my baby smile? He was always smiling, always. Maybe it was because those eyes, Ricky's eyes, were on a different boy. I bit my lip with enough force to make it hurt. I want my Ricky! Ricky! Ricky!
It was complete. My Ricky was complete. All his parts were there sewn together with black string. Flakes of his skin were peeling of and the once empty eye sockets were filled with his vibrant brown eyes. They didn't move, yet. The other boy, the small black four year old was crying out blood in the corner. His dark screams had once filled the room and a raging headache took place in my skull. I finally had him, my Ricky.
The body was slowly decomposing and the stank of rotten human feces was coming from the animal in the corner of the room. From the inhuman demon that once had Ricky's eyes. The satanic ruins were scribbled in the blood of a pig on the stone floor. Ricky's body was gently lain a top of it and the summoning began.
"He who had once been gone."
"He who shall be forever strong."
'Take the blood of the sacrifices tonight."
"Death make everything alright."
"Bring back the person who had once been lost."
"Bring him back at whatever cost."
"Let his heart beat and chest rise."
"Give me my well deserved prize!"
The mist swept into the room and a booming voice echoed in.
"Child I hear thee."
"I shall let Ricky's soul free."
"Be warned child he shall not be whole."
"Let thy insanity into the fold."
"Watch his eyes never blink."
"See him as he never sleeps"
"Love him for the people lost."
"You will take this all and the cost."
Anya sat at the dinner table happily. Smiling in the eerie light. The soulless child sat in front of her foam and blood pouring from his mouth. He only spoke in gurgling gulps and moans of pain. A thousand faces created his form and Anya loved him. They never left the home in Ottawa. No one ever found out who had murdered all those people.
And no one shall. Yet the cost for her child's life to be revived was the cost of a thousand demons to be placed upon her. The child now rests in the attic of her home like a rag doll. She rests beside him like the puppet-master.
Anya always loved her little Ricky.