chapter one

Silas

The bird chirps, its voice soft and almost melodic, a low trill that lingers in the air. There’s something calming about it, something I savor. I stretch, slowly rising from my bed, the cool air brushing against my skin. It’s time to feed my pets. After all, one can never be too prepared, can they?

First comes Jam, the golden retriever. He’s not what he once was, his tail broken, crushed by a road roller — or so the rumors say. His left eye... oh, it’s not quite right. The iris has been bleached white, the vibrant brown gone, leaving nothing but an empty, milky void. Someone must have thought bleach could fix it, but instead, it only left him looking more... lifeless. I smile at the sight — a twisted beauty, one only I can appreciate. I feed him with care, watching him eat, my hands trembling just slightly. Then comes bones, my big guard dog;I walk towards the dressing table and practice my flawless smile. The townsfolk love so much, I grab the earring I was gifted by someone I can't remember the name of , a small heart wrapped around what looks to be a gold drop design .

Next, I walk over to my hamster’s cage. It’s odd to see him like this — he’s already gone, but there’s an odd elegance to his lifeless form. His tiny body, stiff with rigor mortis, lies with the softness of a corpse still in its prime. His little intestines dangle from the edges of his body, like delicate ribbons hanging in the wind. His one eye — perfectly scooped out, a hollow socket staring back at me — is an art form in itself. I can’t help but grin. My favorite of all, I whisper to myself, a soft chuckle slipping from my lips. It’s beautiful.

Everyone in town thinks a maniac is responsible for these twisted scenes, that I’m just an innocent bystander, someone who helped, took in the broken creatures and sheltered them. They don’t know the truth. They never will. How marvelous it is when a plan unfolds so flawlessly.…………………

I prepare for the day, making my way to the old housere’s library. I hand the librarian a pamphlet offering a discount on his beloved Sunday special sandwiches. He takes it from me, his expression soft and respectful, nodding in gratitude. He then offers me a chocolate chip cookie, still wrapped in its plastic.

“My wife gave it to me,” he says with a small chuckle. “She forgot I can’t have sugar. Alzheimer’s is hard, you know?, she can't remember small things”

I meet his gaze, my expression a careful blend of sympathy and respect. He nods, his eyes clouded, and turns back to his desk.

“Come back anytime, my lad. With a wife, that is!” he adds with a soft laugh, shaking his head before returning to his work.3

I take the cookie, a smirk tugging at my lips as I bite into it. The sweetness is overwhelming, too much for my taste. But perhaps Jam would enjoy it, a glimmer of amusement crossing my face. Though, I know he can’t have chocolate... The thought lingers in my mind for a moment longer than I care to admit.

I wonder how he’ll manage to scratch himself while staring at me with those pleading eyes—

Eyes… hollow, clouded, my finest creation yet.

I walk slowly toward my office, the one that gets redecorated for me every so often—sometimes monthly, sometimes yearly.

The thought gets more and more twisted and dark but my mask I created with perfection stays still, suddenly a man almost my height slightly taller with green emerald eyes a beard so thin you would need a microscope to see, his hand burnt slightly a 2 degree burn perhaps maybe a year or two older, and a slight spot maybe on his lips, why the fuck is his hair colored?

His voice husky yet caringly sweet , i smile instinctively while helping him up;

He looks at me eyes bright , with a hint of…i…don't know?????

I smirk as I lean against the frame of my door.

”He's outside his house again, he sure does like staying in an isolated place , I wonder how you are…, my thoughts are interrupted as bones barks at my phone, that's been ringing for at least 4 minutes now.

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