1. Damien

Imade a promise to Trixie, even though I'm sure she doesn't remember it. I promised to take her Trick-Or-Treating and that alone gives me a reason to be out of the house on this holiday. I don't want to be there. It's bad enough that Samantha made me take off school yesterday to clean the house and get rid of all the trash just so she could have a Halloween party with her loser friends.

I was able to steal a flower child costume for Trixie. I think it's rather fitting of her all-around happy spirit. She loves the costume. I can tell from the smile as she twirls in front of the mirror in my room. The dress waves in the air as she spins and the giggles that escape from her are contagious.

I pull down my mask over my face. It's one of those glow in the dark masks with X's over the eyes and a glowing stitch over the mouth. As soon as the mask settles on my face, a shift happens and it's almost as if something is unlocked inside my soul. Something dark and unnatural.

No one has to know who I am, what I look like, and I could be anyone other than myself as long as I have this mask on. Grabbing the kitchen knife I stole from the store as a prop for my costume, I put it in my hoodie pocket.

I tug the hood over my head before I reach down and extend my hand to Trixie. She excitedly bounces over to me before taking my hand. I give her the little Halloween bucket for her candy before I walk her out the front door and we head down the driveway.

One of Samantha's friends pulls up in their truck, five people jumping out of the bed of the truck.

"Hey, little dude." I can never remember the name of Samantha's boyfriend, but he's always trying too hard like he thinks I'm her kid. Just the thought makes me want to vomit. "Fist bump, chica!" He bends down to Trixie's level, but I just push past him.

Don't fucking touch her. No one touches her.

"Seriously, Damien!" The idiot calls from behind me, but I ignore him as we slowly walk down the sidewalk.

I don't want to talk. Not to him. Not to anyone.

Trixie squeezes my hand as we make our way through all the houses on our street, but she doesn't seem tired yet. We keep going through the intersecting streets until she starts to slow down her excitement. We walk to the park and I help her onto a lone bench before pulling out a piece of candy from the bucket for her. She grins big before ripping the plastic wrap off the mini chocolate bar and takes a small bite of it.

I feel for the knife in my pocket just to make sure it didn't fall out during our journey. I'd hate to have to explain that. I could just pretend I don't have a tongue. Then, I wouldn't have to lie or answer any questions. I could be just the weird mute kid instead of the isolated orphan everyone stares at.

"Wait, is that King? Damien King!" I don't react as I sit by Trixie. You'd think nothing was happening by her focus on her chocolate bar.

From my peripheral vision, I can see three kids about my age coming over with costumes on. I don't make an effort to learn anyone's name. I don't have any friends and the only companion I have can't even say my name right because I don't know how to teach her to talk.

I stay still and Trixie motions to the bucket like no one is around before giving me those pleading eyes. I smirk behind my mask before grabbing her another chocolate bar.

"Aww, is this your little sister?" The three boys stop in front of us, but I don't pay them any mind until Trixie does. She looks up at them and, for the first time, she looks uncertain, like she can sense something bad is about to happen and she doesn't know what to do about it.

I look up at the idiots who dared to disturb her and all three of them are laughing.

"She's such a cutie," the one dressed up as Jack Sparrow says in a mocking tone. "Too bad she's probably going to turn out like your other sister."

Neither Trixie nor Samantha are my sisters. They can say anything they want about that monster, but Trixie doesn't deserve it. She's just a baby.

"Yeah, I heard your big sister likes to twiddle little kids. She's a fucking pedo," the one with clown makeup on his face says before pushing at the side of my head. Still, I don't do or say anything. Why should I? They're not lying. Samantha is a sicko. I've experienced how bad it can be first hand.

"Sammy is a psycho. You're a freak. I bet your little sister will be the town whore growing up in a house with you two." The one with Day of The Dead face paint leans in to taunt me with a sinister smirk on his face. "Don't worry. I'll be gentle when I break her in," he sneers and red rises in my vision, but it completely snaps when Jack Sparrow grabs Trixie's bucket and she cries.

No one makes her cry.

In a flash, I have the knife out of my pocket and I thrust it into Day of The Dead's groin as a growl surges from my lips.

"Oh my god!" Clown Face screams in horror and falls back on his ass as Day of The Dead stares at me with pain and fear in his eyes. The fear is intoxicating. I rip the blade from his flesh and hear a thunk on the ground. I quickly look and see nothing other than his severed penis tumble from the leg of his pants.

He should've thought twice before talking about Trixie like that.

I kick him to the ground and he cries in agony as he cups his bleeding groin but my eyes fall on his friends. Jack Sparrow drops the bucket and is frozen in place, like he can't believe what is happening. Without wasting a second, I whip the blade across his throat and blood spurts across my mask as he falls to the ground, clutching his neck. Clown Face is a little smarter than his buddies because he starts backing away slowly, holding up his hands.

"Man, they were just messing around with you. I didn't say anything."

He should've chose better friends. In school, they talk about suicide prevention and how you need to be careful of what you say and how you treat people because the smallest thing can send them over the edge. Jack Sparrow and Day of The Dead should've applied that same logic to me because they pushed me past my limit. Now, they're bleeding out in this isolated park.

Make better choices in your next life and maybe you can avoid this.

I tilt my head at him and he turns to run, but his toe connects with a rock and he faceplants in the grass. "Please," he cries as I wipe my knife on my pants and walk up behind him, a growl falling from my lips. "I don't want to die!"

He tries to get to his feet, but I kick him back down to the ground. He grunts and screams a second before I plunge my knife through his back. I twist the blade as he cries and pulls it down the length of his spine until his cries stop. Then and only then do I pull the knife from his body and wipe it off on my pants.

"Dame, Dame!" Trixie calls and my entire body stiffens. She saw that. She witnessed the whole thing. Trixie saw me completely lose it and kill those boys who were harassing us. I'm not scared of what I did or what's going to happen to me now. What I am scared of is what I'm going to see on her face when I look at her. "Dame!" she calls again and, reluctantly, I turn to look at her. She doesn't look frightened, even though her costume has blood splatter all around the skirt.

She points to the bucket in the grass that somehow ended up laid on its butt so none of the candy fell out during the ordeal. She points as if to say now that's over with, feed me. I chuckle under my breath before shoving the knife back into my pocket. I grab the bucket and walk over to the bench, but I squat in front of her and pull the mask over my face just in case she forgot it was me in here. She grins at me.

"I didn't scare you, did I?" I ask, not really expecting an answer out of her, but instead, she takes the bucket from me and presses a tight lipped kiss to my cheek, much like I always do to her. At least she doesn't think I'm a freak.

Pulling back down my mask, I lift her off the bench and step over the fallen corpses to get back to the sidewalk. I don't bother putting her back down. Instead, I walk with her in my arms all the way back to the house. Before we reach the driveway, she's asleep in my arms. Even though the monster and her friends are still up and talking in the living room, I quietly carry Trixie up to my room and lay her in her playpen.

I don't move though. I just stand there and stare down at her sleeping form. I don't take off my mask or get cleaned up either. It feels right to keep the mask on. The mask is my guard to do what is necessary. I can protect Trixie and protect myself.

Tonight is Halloween, the night everyone gets to be someone different, someone new. Tonight I will fix everything and anyone who tries to get in my way will see what happens when they come between me and ending the torment forever.