Normal is Overrated

Prologue

I sigh as the lights finally turn off in the house across the street. About time. I know enough about the structure of the house to know where the blind spots are and how many entrances the home has. This is more than a quick kill, unfortunately. My smile falls as I remember what I witnessed earlier today. The damn animal that calls himself human, that can barely get through the damn doorways, hitting a child that could be no more than 5 years of age. My shoulder twitches sharply, hard enough that I swear it should've popped out of its socket.

I look up at the moon, trying to figure out what time it is, only to pout at the fluffy clouds covering the night sky. So I instead peek into a nearby house to look at a digital clock - thank the Operator for the age of electronics. Only 10:23, shame. I need to wait a bit longer to enter, if I don't want to startle the few people who are still awake. I sigh and sit down on the curb, making sure that I am away from the rays of light the street lamp provides. The police would most definitely be called if an unknown person was seen loitering around a neighborhood as clean as this one.

I wait patiently for it to be late enough that all of the lights inside the houses on this street were out to approach the home of my intended prey. The house at Number Four, Privet Drive looks the same as the rest of the houses in the neighborhood, the only difference being the flowers growing in the front yard -- lilies, I believe -- and the people inside it - a man as large as a walrus, with a matching mustache; a woman who is stick-thin, pale, with a long neck and thin face, resembling that of a horse; a boy around 7, who looks more like a pig, what with his size, eating habits, and cleaning habits; and a boy around 5, who is almost never seen. It is the younger boy that interests me.

The younger one, while almost never seen, is by far the most active in the home. He doesn't go outside often, but when he does, he's kneeling in one of the gardens, wearing dirty and oversized clothes that clearly do not belong to him. I've seen him look at the house to make sure no one is looking before sneaking a drink from the hose, or to snag a vegetable from the garden in the back. I've seen him through the windows, sweeping and vacuuming the floors, washing the dishes, dusting the furniture, cooking in the damn kitchen.

I've seen him get pushed by his cousin -- I assume that the older one is his cousin, as the man looks nothing like him and the woman only barely resembles him, with the same eye shape -- and beat by his uncle -- again, assuming here. I've seen him get blamed for something the older boy did, like breaking a vase, or trampling the flowers, and subsequently beaten with a belt, or shoved into the cupboard under the stairs and only let out to use the bathroom and do the chores, or starved for days. I've seen the woman look on with nothing but disgust and contempt in her eyes, watching as her husband and son repeatedly abuse the young boy.

Among these terrible acts of human nature, I've seen strange things happen around the boy. How something just out of reach will scoot just that much closer, how something broken will somehow repair itself before anyone can see, how a wilting flower will somehow look as fresh as it could be. Everytime one of the boy's family sees something like this happen, they freak out. Well, the adults do. The child -- the pig masquerading as a human boy -- just yells for his parents, calling the younger "Freak". The adults immediately rush to see what's happening, and then beat the boy until he's laying on the floor, bleeding from the lashes given to him by his uncle's belt. The beatings are always worse when he's caught doing something they deem "freaky".

That is the main reason why this particular house is my target. The boy is definitely special, though in what way, I don't know. What I do know, however, is that Slenderman is going to like this. No one else at the Mansion has the type of power this kid does, so he'd be a perfect addition to the Boss' collection of freaks... Probably not a good idea to call them that around the kid, if he's programmed to react violently to that word. Maybe we could change the meaning for him..? I guess we'll have to see, as a glance back at the digital clock states that it is 11:54.