A humbled mother and a pompous-looking son sat at a kitchen table that looked as if it were to fall apart with any sudden change of movement or perhaps even the fall of a pin. From the ceiling hung a light bulb dangling from a loose cord, offering it's light throughout the room in awkward places where it wasn't needed at all. The wall's were painted a burnt yellow, though the color was chipping and peeling near the floor. The cabinets that hung on these walls were stripped of all color and now only seemed like plywood boxes hanging from the drab walls.
The room appeared to be shaking from beneath the brawl a story above them; muffled yelling was heard through the creases in the ceilings and the walls. The mother looked uneasy by this- the boy, however, appeared unphased at all. Hesitantly, the woman cleared her throat as her long fingers pushed back the auburn locks that hung from her head, behind her ear. She then reached for the pencil across from the boy and looped it through her fingers carefully, then pressed the led against the yellowed paper and quietly wrote out another algebra problem. "Here you are, Love." She said sweetly, sitting the pencil down across from the dark haired boy of thirteen and sliding the paper to him with an uneasy smile on her face. The mother could practically feel the tension in the air.
The boy glanced at his mother impatiently taking the paper from her too eager fingers and ripped the pencil up from the table. With ease and nothing but a mere glance from his hard, grey stare he had solved the problem in his head correctly and had written the answer back on the paper and shoved it back at the woman.
Like a hunter, the boy watched her, wasting away over some idiotic text book. He never listened, why did that batty woman even try? Her persistence annoyed the hunter; her care frustrated the hunter. Again, she picked up the pencil and wrote another problem across it, sliding it back towards the hunter.
"Aiden," She said kindly to the hunter, "Please, tell Mummy the answer to this math problem." She said in a painfully sweet voice. Her rosy cheeks were brighter than usual, as though she were flustered in some unusual way. She kept her green gaze on the hunter, as though she were frightened by him. A smirk flickered onto his face- the hunter could sense her fear. "What's the answer, Dear?" She asked again, pushing the piece of paper with a simple- almost elementary problem scrawled across it closer to him.
It was insulting that it was so easy to him, as he scrawled the answer as a response to her and shoved it back hoping his somewhat calm nature seemed to soothe her uneasiness.
She smiled at him and nodded slowly as her eyes remained fixed on the paper. "That's good, Aiden. Right as always." She mumbled to herself, checking something off on a sheet of paper that sat next to her on the table. She looked up, dropping the pencil and meeting his gaze. For a long while, like a deer in headlights, she gazed at him knowing his next question was coming. She was expecting it, but why did this continue to surprise her?
"Where's my father?" He asked with casualness. Even being thirteen years old, the hunter-this... Aiden, composed himself with utmost charm and carefulness when he spoke to anyone. His voice was nothing less of velvet.
She let out a sigh, knowing that she had been cornered. "Aiden, Love... Why don't you try another math problem?" She offered lightly, pushing the piece of paper back to him.
"I'd rather not." He replied idly pushing it back to her; his face grew more relaxed now. For the time, he didn't want her to frightened or uneasy.
She inhaled slowly now. "I told you. It doesn't matter where that man is. He didn't love you, Aiden. But Mummy does, Love. Mummy loves you so much." She smiled at him feebly, or as best as she could muster as she racked her brains for something-anything- that would save her from the tantrum hidden within the hunter. "He left you, Aiden." The mother's voice held an incredulous tone now. "Don't you see? He didn't love you like I do. I love you, Aiden. Mummy loves you so... so much." The confident tone that once overtook her was gone as she spoke of her feelings.
The hunter smiled at the woman . He felt his adrenaline pump harder and harder now, the pupils of his grey eyes grew wider. The hunter watched her, wedded to her in the lust for death. "I'm afraid your love isn't good enough anymore."
The hunter stood up from his chair, walked around the table and stopped in front of his mother. Her auburn locks falling in her face as she stared up at him. To a common boy, the expression the woman held on her face would have stopped what the hunter was about to do, but the hunter was no common boy- in fact... perhaps he wasn't even a boy at all. His smile turned into a devilish smirk- the mother was no longer trying to hide her discomfort.
The hunter arched his eyebrows at her, feeling his aggression rise as he reached out and grabbed her neck almost casual- like, immediately putting pressure on her throat; his fingers closing in harder and harder. He was intent on choking the life out of her.
"Scream." He stated simply to her, wanting to hear the pain that would come of her attempted screams.
The prey tried. The sounds that emitted from its throat were more groans than anything. His grip around her neck grew tighter.
"Scream." He said again, his tone still casual and soft... never once going above a whisper. The tone was intimidating- that much he knew. Again, the prey tried. It's eyes seemed to portrude slightly from the head as it gasped for life. To have the chance to breath one last intake of air. To say one last thing...
The prey couldn't move now, its face held a blue colored tint to it while the hunter smiled in his own accomplishment. His smile growing into a more satisfactory one. He folded his arms across his chest, reaching over his shoulder to pat his own back.
For only a moment, the hunter waited. The prey flinched slightly as the muscles relaxed within its body. The prey's eyes had rolled to the back of her head, and her round, plump face had now turned completely red.
Letting out a sigh, the hunter pleased who was with himself wiped his hands and looked to the corpse. "What a mess." His voice now no longer charming. It held something similar to contempt.