The Cult of Devin

07 part 1

Emmit had plans for the day. Everyone else was “busy”. By that, he means that Lacch was being oddly selfish and closed off, the cult- Cody was craving violence, and Euan? That fucker was long gone. Abandoned the cult about a year ago.

Emmit had everything he needed in a bag. A Zippo lighter, some lighter fluid, rope, a knife, and a gun. The gun was a bit overkill and Emmit didn't really like using guns. It's no fun shooting someone when you can cut them up slowly.

Hopping on his bike, Emmit started down the road to his mother's workplace, the Lake City preschool.

Emmit hadn't talked to his mom much as of late. Between her working at the preschool and Baker's sweets bistro and bakery, she didn't get home till late and when she did arrive, the first thing she did was go to sleep. Emmit hated it. It made him angry. Almost made him feel like the little shits she cared for at the preschool mattered more than him. No one matters more than Emmit. But perhaps he didn't need a reason to do what he planned to do today. Maybe he just craved to see the color red. Maybe he just wanted to see how blood smells when it burns. Maybe he just wanted to make his mother pay for staying too long at work.

Why was she staying so long at the preschool anyways? She should have a three hour break in between her two jobs where she could come home and be with her lovely son. But no. She hadn't shown up. Was she spoiling some other brat? Taking in a kid that wasn't even hers? It was a shameful thought. How could she do something like that? The idea of it is rotten, horrid.

Emmit was pulled out of his thoughts as he brought the bike to a stop. There was a red light. He sighed and pressed the button to cross the road. How annoying. He didn't have time to wait. Not to mention his whole plan would be ruined if he was caught skipping school.

He shook his head as the cars raced by. He laughed a bit, imagining the panic the driver would feel if he rode his bike out into the middle of the road. Would the driver swerve? Perhaps crash into the brick building across the street. What if they weren't wearing a seatbelt? Would they crash through their windshield, getting all cut up from the tiny bits of glass that would cling onto their skin as their skull slammed into the brick wall. Would Emmit be able to hear the crunch of their bones? Hear their scream? Or would they be quiet? Maybe die instantly or would they sit there, braindead from their skull being smashed by the windshield and wall. Would they let out a funny little whimper and groan? Oh but Emmit was getting ahead of himself, this is if they swerved. What if they kept going? Hit Emmit. Would they scream as Emmit's body was pulled under the car, to get smashed just as Lacch had? What? Lacch wasn't crushed. Lacch is alive and fine. You're crazy. You're right, sorry. But what if Emmit wasn't pulled under the car, what if he slid against their windshield, would he be bleeding? Would he whimper and groan and cough up blood as the poor fucker sat there and panicked? Before Emmit dies, would he tell the person that they are a murderer, so they would have to live with that? Live with the blood of a teen on their hands. Gods, it was drop dead hysterical. Fall to the ground holding your gut as you laughed, laughed, and laughed. The crossing light switched, Emmit could cross the road now.

He hopped on his bike and pedaled his way forward. Onwards to the preschool.

—-------

“Miss. Wallerson? Is there anything else you need help with?” Asked Euan as he helped clean up the classroom.

“Oh, Euan, sweetie! You can just call me Heather, please.” She smiled at him. “And yes actually. Will you please be a sweetheart and go check the cupboard over there for some paints? When the children get back from their break I want to have everything ready. We are going to make hand turkeys!”

Euan laughed and smiled as he walked over to the cupboard. “Of course, Miss- ah.. Heather! Sorry, it just feels so bizarre to call you anything but Miss. Wallerson or Miss. W.”