Seven

Sunday

 Seven had been watching the house since Saturday, she didn't get hungry or tired and that might of worried her before, but it didn't now. It was now Sunday evening, the sun was about to set. She'd been able to break into Veronica Pink's house that morning when she left for work, and she wasn't at all surprised at what she found. Weed, cocaine, various bottles of alcohol and prescription medicine. Anti-depressants, anxiety meds, even Oxytocin. She didn't touch anything, instead she walked around the bungalow counting her steps- how long it took to get to the kitchen from the front door, how many steps it took to walk down the hall, etc.

She knew that the first kill would be improvised and creative, it had to be remembered. People would be talking about them and learning about her in Sociology classes in the near future, she might even get a book or two written about her. She didn't really care that much about the popularity, she just wanted to make the voice happy. She wanted to be able to go back to- wherever, and be congratulated and praised by it.

The lights from the lampposts on the street flickered on as the sun hid behind the horizon. Seven would of enjoyed a nighttime walk around this neighbourhood when she was Annabelle, the soft ocean breeze and clear open sky. It had a way of making you feel relaxed and in place.

A car with bright headlights turned down the road and parked in front of the bungalow. Seven was already walking up to the house before she'd even realized the car was there. Veronica Pink climbed out of the small ruby car, holding rolls of papers in her arms and trying her best not to crumple them as she reached for her keys. She stumbled along, not as graceful as she would of been on the cat walk, towards the front door of her house. Was she drunk?

Seven walked up the path to the front door as Veronica entered the house, not even noticing her. The stony path was loud underneath her feet, and she made it up the stairs of the porch to the door before Veronica even shut it. Seven even had her boot in the door as she walked off blindly down the hall. She would probably put her art papers in the studio before going to make dinner, if she was actually going to eat that night. Seven slinked into the main lobby of the house once again. She shut the door silently behind her and disappeared into the dark hallway closet, where she could see down the hall and into the kitchen.

Veronica strolled slowly down the hall and into the kitchen, picking up an empty pot from the cupboard and putting it on the stove. Seven could just walk in there and it wouldn't even click in her brain that there was an intruder in her house. What was she on? She shouldn't of been driving or left alone at all. Seven walked out slowly into the kitchen, Veronica was staring off at the pot like she'd seen some Messiah in the bottom of it.

The kitchen was dirty, just like when she was there earlier that day. Dishes filled two sinks side-by-side, the floor needed to be cleaned, and even the empty pot Veronica put on the stove was used. Seven waved her hand in front of her stoned face, nothing. Not even a flicker of the eye. This was just too easy. She picked up the empty pot from the stove in both hands and raised it above her head. Seven hesitated, biting her bottom lip as if she was contemplating whether or not to go through with it.

And that's when Veronica turned to look at her, as if she wasn't sedated or anything. Her eyes widened in terror and she let out a ear piercing scream that was cut off by a thunk and a crack of pot vs. skull. The metal pot won, of course, and Veronica collapsed to the ground. There was a large gash on her forehead, it was bleeding out onto the floor. Her eyes were flickering like a light switch, her brain deciding whether or not to shut down.

Seven stood over her now, dropping the pot onto the floor loudly. Veronica looked up, she was afraid and probably peed herself. “Please... don't-” she started, weakly. Seven smiled at her.