1 I Warned You

I found the spare key in the fourth flower pot to the left, where it has always been. Maybe we were begging someone to rob us. But then again, this place is guarded heavily by armed guards.

Usually the thought of being at this place scared me. It's been three years since I last stepped foot here.

Three years since I died.

I smile in delight as I remember it all. That horrible man.

The staircase is just as grand as it had always been.

The curtains are drawn, the hallways unlit. Light wasn't welcome here after the passing of Darlene. Sweet, sweet, unaware Darlene.

I grin at the thought of how stupid that woman was.

The kitchen is the same. Nothing has changed in this house, like it has remained frozen in time for the past three years.

I make my way up the staircase, with memories of tumbling down them. The sound of my head cracking the linoleum floors echo fresh in my mind.

How many times, I wonder, did it take for me to become familiar with that sound?

I don't feel heavy walking up the stairs, as I did in the past.

I feel like I'm floating, high off of criminal intent.

This house was too big for three people.

I almost knock before I enter the room I remember to be the den, but then remember I'm not here just to visit. Why should I knock?

I can tell he is in there. I can smell him, reeking of cowardice and an undeserved god complex.

I hate that man. Because of him, I have no family. The beautiful world I lived in, crumbled and burned.

By his hands.

This is no time to lament. I only care about claiming what is mine.

I twist the glass doorknob and fling the door open so hard that it comes off of the hinges, and pictures fall from the walls around the wall.

"I'm assuming you found out about your termination Arthur."

I snort loudly walk into the room, the sound of my boots echoing off of the beautiful cherry wood floors.

"How could you fire Arthur, he's covered up so much shit for you." I jeer nonchalantly.

"Who..." The horrible man hits a button on a remote and the lights come on.

I cock my head to the side, greeting him with a twisted smirk.

At first he looks surprised, but then he squints as though he can't believe it.

"Are you confused." I laugh.

He presses his lips together then clasps his hands together. "I must be going senile."

"I don't think you could become any more of psychopath than what you were." I respond coldly.

"What do you want?" He bites out, nostrils flaring.

I smirk at him as though it's already obvious.

He snickers to himself. "You were always a fighter, I'll give you that."

I narrow my eyes at him. "I'm assuming that you're not going to cooperate."

His glare connects with mine. A cold, glassy glare. Eyes filled with emptiness.

The man charges at me but I stand firmly in place.

Something cold seers through my skin, deep into my chest.

"Really, up close I can see how your demons have aged you."

His eyes go wide in shock, then he pushes the blade deeper into my chest.

"Killing me once wasn't enough for you?" I laugh maniacally as his jaw goes slack.

"Wha..." He pushes me with enough force to send me tripping backwards across the room, hand twisting the blade.

Then glass is shattering and I'm falling.

How sad, I actually admired the bay windows when the sun shines through them. That'll be a headache to repair. He has no shortage of money though.

So neither do I.

Glass rains down from above. The horrible old man looks down at me from the broken window, eyes glazed over.

He looks remarkably unsatisfied. Having everything was never enough for him.

The signature empty gaze he had when he sashayed the halls. When he talked to other people. The night I died.

Darkness surrounds me. I inhale it's sweet aroma.

The smell of blood.

Thorns dig into my exposed skin reminding me of the reason I hate roses.

Maybe if I stayed still a little longer, I could become part of this garden.

"You can stop pretending to be dead now." His sickening voice chortles.

"I am dead. Were you not there when they signed my death certificate?" I smirk and sit up. "Unless you covered up my unfortunate end."

The metal inside of me stings. He missed, obviously out of hesitation.

"Do not mock me!" The horrible man booms but takes a step back.

"I thought you'd be happy to see me." I mock hurt but a sinister smile spreads across my face.

"This can't be real!" He gasps, his features going pale.

"But it is." I remove the dagger the horrible man had plunged into me and hold it up in the moonlight.

"W- who are you?" The pathetic man is now quaking with fear.

"Don't you recognize your favorite punching bag?" I cackle as the blood from the blade trickles down my wrist.

"But you were dead!" He shouts, collapsing to his knees.

It sends a great satisfaction through me.

"That's right, you remember now?"

He garbles something in response and begins scooting back on his knees, then tries to get back onto his feet, but falls again.

"Please do try." I snarl and close the distance between us.

He's so scared that his teeth are chattering. Ha! I love it.

"l came back just to see you." I lick the blade slowly, savoring the sweet taste of my own blood.

"Niore," He shudders as his pupil quake with fear. "You vindictive bitch."

I look down on him sadistically admiring the sniveling old bag he has become. "Oh, I love you too." I raise the blade in the air slowly.

Then I smile down on the horrible, pathetic man.

"Daddy dearest."