After School Read online

His chest hurt. He reached down and picked up her dainty little hands. He remembered the proper way she always held her toy teacups that she forced him to play with. He remembered how he broke one of them by throwing it down too hard. He’d bought her a new one last Christmas. It was probably still in this room somewhere.

  He kissed her hand. It was still warm. He squeezed it, hoping that somehow she’d wake up, but she didn’t.

  Afraid to open his eyes but unable to keep them closed, he looked at her and pulled back the covers. A large, bloody gash ran down her chest. A crimson halo stained the sheets around her body, yet her face still appeared peacefully asleep.

  Eric grabbed his head as the room began to spin.

  He lifted her gently, but her limbs sank like pieces of a broken doll. She was gone.

  He sobbed. “Please come back. You can’t be dead, too.” He brushed aside her auburn curls. “I’m sorry.”

  His screams echoed in the silence of the house. He’d never heard it so devoid of noise. He could hear every breath he took as if it were blasted through a stereo.

  There was an overwhelming metallic iron smell that was almost tangy. Eric realized it was Susie’s blood. He never knew blood had a smell before. Her hand still clutched her stuffed kitten, now stained with red splatters. He laid her back down and turned away. It was too much.

  Thoughts rushed through Eric’s mind. Had she slept through the butchering or woken up? How could he not have heard her screaming?

  Then he remembered why he had rushed to get to her in the first place. He was in danger and he knew he had to get out. Susie’s windows had been bolted shut for her safety after a series of sleepwalking episodes.

  Eric rushed to the hallway. He saw a man hooded in black, holding a bloody knife, blocking the stairway.

  “Why hello there.” The man took a step towards him.

  Eric dashed to his room. He went for the window. A hand pulled him to the ground.

  He made another run for the window. Maybe he’d break his leg, but he’d be alive. He wouldn’t wind up in that cold place where dead people go. Like that boy. If he could just get outside, he could run to Mr. Nelson’s house. Mr. Nelson had a gun.

  He was slammed onto his bed. His mattress absorbed the brunt of the fall. Eric stared up into the eyes of his attacker and was greeted with cold, hard glee.

  He realized that it was over. All his thoughts about death were about to apply to him.

  He watched as the bloodstained blade plunged into his flesh. Agony erupted in his shoulder and shot throughout his entire body. He opened his mouth to scream. The stench of his blood rose to his nose. The cry of a gasp for air echoed in his ears, but his body’s plea was denied.

  The killer stabbed him again. Eric couldn’t tell where this time. The pain just consumed him.

  The killer watched in awe as blood poured like a fountain.

  Eric coughed up mouthfuls of blood. He couldn’t breathe. When would it be over? One minute ago, he’d do anything to live. Now, he prayed for his body to die so he could stop feeling this unbearable torment. He tried a ‘Hail Mary’ but the prayer escaped his lips as barely a whisper.

  The killer plunged the dagger down into Eric’s chest, piercing through his still beating heart. In a single second, it all stopped. He felt nothing. His green eyes gazed upon the light from the fixture under the ceiling fan.

  Eric saw a light more beautiful than any he had ever seen. He realized that he was no longer in his body. Looking down he saw his own eyes staring back at him, slowly fading away, until everything was consumed by light.

  The killer took pleasure in feeling Eric’s body go limp. He continued to hack away at Eric’s boyish flesh another twelve times.

  He turned and looked at the blood splattered on the blue walls and then at the red smear on Eric’s Batman sheets. The blood was stained all around the chest and splattered across the hero’s face.

  The killer ran his gloved hands reverently down Eric’s chest. He slid the body off the bed. It landed with a thud. He set it against the bed, hands folded in the lap, a trail of blood leading from the sheets to where the boy now sat. He left the boy’s horrified eyes open and stepped back to admire his work.

  “It’s everything I envisioned.”

  He gazed at the boy, as if his body was little more than clay and his life’s blood mere red paint. He turned to the dresser and set the picture frame upright again. He took a mental snapshot of the entire room and casually walked out, leaving the family to decompose in their pools of red.

  Like what you see? Pick up J.J. Francesco’s debut novel, Blood Chain, available now wherever you buy books online.

  Author Bio

  For J.J. Francesco, the seeds of writing were planted with entering Reading Rainbow story contests as a young child. In the coming years, his writing often took unique forms – from making up his own Pokemon to imagining soap opera storylines in his head based off of anime characters. As a teenager, the writing moved to the page, starting with fanfiction, then serialized character dramas, and ultimately resulting in his first novels and short stories. “Mirror, Mirror,” was his first publication in the award-winning college literary magazine Limited Editions, with “Untitled Short Film” following in the next annual issue. Literary magazine Transient, published a third short story, “After School.” In 2014, J.J. published his debut novel, “Blood Chain,” through Rivershore Books. He also serves on the staff of the hit website, NewReleaseTuesday. J.J. lives in Philadelphia with his family.

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