Honor Thy mother and father

Arthur slammed open the door to the bedroom, just as quickly he closed it and locked it. The slam woke Martha up. "Oh shit! Oh fuck! Where is it?"

"Arthur for heaven's sake, what are you doing? And why are you acting so hysterical?"

"Have you seen my father's hunting rifle?"

"Since when do we have a weapon in this house?"

"My father left it to me when he died. Now, have you seen it or not?!" Arthur shouted.

"No. I didn't even know you had a weapon. Will you please explain to me why you are acting like this?"

Arthur kept looking through each cabinet and drawer in the room. "I went to Sean's room, and…Dmitry was there…he killed Sean. I don't know what I saw. What happened. But I think Dmitry killed Sean."

"Arthur, what are you saying? You are starting to scare me."

He grabbed Martha's shoulders and shouted right into her face. "Sean's dead! Dmitry killed him, that's what I'm bloody saying. He slaughtered him. I saw as his heart dropped next to my feet."

Martha felt like she was about to faint. Her son was dead? Dmitry killed him? It didn't make sense to her. "What are you talking about? Dmitry is in the hospital,"

"I don't know, woman. That's what I saw. What looked like our son killing his brother. He looks like Dmitry but."

"He looks? You sound mad Arthur."

"I don't know. What I saw was someone that looked like our son, with big red eyes and fangs, killing our son and licking his blood." Everything had moved like a blur for him to have noticed. Deep inside he wished he was wrong about it.

Martha placed a hand to cover her mouth. "Oh God. Sean's dead? Our son's dead?"

"Yes. I need to find my rifle. We need to call the police–" Arthur stopped searching when he heard the door knob moving.

The demon was trying to get in but it was locked.

"Daddy. Mummy. Can you please open the door?"

"D-Dmitry?" Martha gasped. "Is that you baby?"

"Yes mummy." Dmitry responded. "Can you open the door? I really, really want to play with you guys."

A little smile appeared on Martha's face. Hearing her son's voice for the first time in months made her happy. She stood up ready to unlock the door.

"Don't open that door!" Arthur ordered.

"But our son–"

"That thing is not our son. It's…it's… That thing outside is a demon."

"That's our son you are talking about. That's his voice. I am going to unlock the door."

Arthur grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "He butchered our son!"

Martha shook her head in disbelief. "No. Our son would never do something like that!"

"I said open the damn door!" Dmitry smashed the door open in one strike. He went inside to be met by the stunned faces of his folks. "Hello mummy. Hello daddy. Missed me?"

"Is that you baby?" Martha couldn't believe her eyes. He looks like her beloved son, but his appearance, his facial expression, his hair, it looked so contradictory.

"What's wrong mum? A few months and you don't recognize me anymore?" Dmitry pretended to sound hurt.

"What are you doing, Dmitry?" His father asked. "How did you manage to leave the hospital? Did Dr. Bartlett release you? E-Explain yourself."

Dmitry sighed in annoyance. "You always have to yell at me, don't you dad? You can never ask me something nicely. If you have to know, I got bored of being there. So I left. I had to force my way out. After paying a visit to the doctor I decided to come and thank my lovely parents for sending me to a hospital to rot."

"No son. We sent you there to help you. Because we love you," Martha said.

"You do have a funny way of showing it, mummy. By sending me to hell. You have no idea what I went through there." Dmitry's voice changed. He sounded sad and hurt. "I've never been so lonely and scared in my life. And betrayed…by my own parents. You threw me away on the first opportunity."

"No, it wasn't like that, Dmitry." Martha cried.

"Then why did you send me there?!" He didn't give any of them an opportunity to answer. "Let me guess 'for my own good?' That bullshit excuse made me suffer! How would you like it if I strap you to a bed, drugged and force feed you? You two fucked me up. Look at me! LOOK AT ME! Look what I have become. I'm a monster." He took something out of his pocket and tossed it into the bed. "This is something from my first victim."

It was a pair of glasses.

Arthur grabbed them. His hands were trembling. "Th-these are Bartlett's glasses." His shock and fear only grew. "What do you mean by your first victim?"

"Did you pay attention? I said I forced my way out of the hospital. I think I killed at least seven people before going after Bartlett."

Martha covered her mouth with her shaky hands. "That joke is of terrible taste, Dmitry."

"Tell me mum when was the last time I told a joke?" He actually sounded offended by her. "Wanna go check Sean's room? Then you can see that I am not joking."

What frightened Martha the most was not what her son said he did but the malevolent and heartless smile with which he said it.

Dmitry clapped his hands and rubbed them. "Now how about we play a game?"

"I am putting an end to this," Arthur said. He had finally found his hunting rifle. The gun was locked and loaded. The middle aged man turned around, with every intention of using his gun against his son. But when he made the 180 degree turn Dmitry wasn't there.

"No fair, dad, that's cheating!" Dmitry was standing on top of the ceiling. His face was just centimeters away from his father's. The boy bitch slapped his father with the back of his hand, sending him crashing into the other side of the room, landing on a piece of furniture that broke into a hundred pieces.

Martha screamed. She rushed to her husband's aid; she checked him, thankfully he was alive, just unconscious. Trembling, she grabbed his rifle.

"Play with me mummy! Play with me! Play with me!" Dmitry jumped and jumped on his parent's bed while repeating the same phrase to his mother over and over again. Until he stopped when his own mother aimed the rifle at him. Sadness took over his cheerful mood.

"Are you going to shoot me mummy? Me… your son?" He asked. But Martha, tears covering her face, placed a trembling finger next to the trigger. "I see. I guess you don't love me anymore, huh? But it's okay, I mean, look at me. Nobody can love someone like me. But don't worry, mum, cause I still love you, despite everything. And I forgive you for sending me to that horrible place."

"Oh, Christ," she sobbed and let go of the rifle. She just couldn't do it. No matter what, she couldn't shoot her own son. She looked at his eyes, yes they were different, but it was still her boy. No matter what he was still the son she raised and loved. "I am so sorry, Dmitry. I am."

The boy opened his arms to her, and gave her a smile she had not seen in years.

Martha couldn't resist. Shoving the rifle away she jumped into his arms. She hugged him in a way only a mother can.

Dmitry hugged his mother back. The hug felt warm and tight. "I don't remember the last time you hugged me like this."

Martha pressed her face against her son's chest. He felt cold. "I'm so sorry, baby."

"For what, mum?"

"For everything," she sobbed.

"What's everything?"

"Y-You know…"

"No mum, I don't."

This time Dmitry stared directly into his mother's eyes. His eyes were bright and wide, but there was a clear empty void in them. Surrounded by anger at the lack of the answer he wanted to hear.

"I never wanted you to be taken from me. I never wanted you to go to that place," she finally answered.

"Then why did you let them take me?" The hug became tighter. His thin arms pressing themselves more against his mother's back.

Martha was having difficulties breathing. "I'm… s-sorry."

"Now you ask me for forgiveness. After all I went through. But don't worry, like I said I forgive you." Dmitry's hug grew tighter. He felt his mother's trying to break it off. She started to slam her fists against his arms as she gasped for air. "Because you know I don't lie." Those words were followed by a simple snap, then silence.

Dmitry unhugged his mother to let her corpse drop to the floor.

The silence was broken by a loud curse, and an even louder gunshot.