Part one of the family illness

This is a normal situation, and although we have all been completely devastated by the past few incidents, the show must go on. We can't stop here.
Your mother is dead. Your father is in prison.
Your sister was left dead in the alley.
Your brother is trapped in the old life he can't quite leave.
The family is broken.
This is how it all begins.

The clever little girl, she never quit. The seduction was the best part, but after seeing the brutal slaying of the innocent she quickly began to fade. Her smile, her eyes...every quality she possessed was no longer hers. The devil danced and took it all away. He poured the girl a glass of something strong to numb the pain. The way her mother's blood slowly drained from her dying body was heart wrenching. She thought she knew him well. But the monster stayed locked away for 10 long years. One whole lonely decade. If she could only clear her head...
She's comfortable in heaven, and he'll burn every day in hell.
The way her limbs went limp, the way he cleaned the knife bewteen his fingers and licked the blood from them. Dried stains of brown were splattered across the room as she sat for hours, crying for mummy. "mummy please wake up," The little girl in her cotton white dress rubbed her lips over her mothers cold face. "mummy please wake up."
"mummy please wake up!"

He ran down streets, dodging old faces and ignoring the neighbors looks of confusion. The blood on his hands and clothes were not easily hidden in the broad daylight. The cold steel behind the fabric of his pocket made him shiver. the excitement bubbled inside as he made his way through crowds searching for the next one. She had to be there somewhere, within the walls of a random building, bewteen the streets in a long black dress waiting for what she did not expect.
Lock him up. Lock him up. Lock him up.

He began to sense it. He could smell it. He could feel it.
It was swelling inside him, the beast within.
Begging to be released. Begging and pleading.
The soul left the body a long time ago.
The conscience was never really there...
It tried to get out. It tried to get out.
Then it was...out.

Slashing and ripping and tearing her skin. The brick walls surrounding them quickly turned bloody and gruesome. Pieces of flesh being torn from the body, every substance she held leaked onto the pavement. Her fundamental freedoms were not considered. He was no longer her father but her killer. The enemy once gave her such joy, such love. This was forgotten when the knife entered her warm surface which covered the bones what were now exposed from the cutting, the splitting, the gashing. Every laceration he put into her exposed more of her insides.
And he ran. He left her in bits after shredding every inch of her. But her eyes, they could still see, and the tears that came from them were not water, but blood.