Love Me More Than Her [FINISHED]

Chapter 3: Planning

The murders that Kyle had done were in very large amounts; some on accident, some on purpose, some because they were witnesses. And others because of this 'urge'. Occasionally, he would have this shiver in his spine and a full out need to kill someone, something. It wasn't often that eh had these urges, so that was a good sign. Only Kenny knew about these, and he would bring live animals like big rodents and birds that probably would had have infections. Well, apart from cleaning off blood, that's what washing hands are for right?

Anyway, Kyle opened his nearly full notebook listed with many kids and adults, flipping to the next new page that was slightly ceased at the top, but to no concern of Kyle. He started to write down what he had wrote in class:

Wendy Testaburger
10 years
Trailblazer, bossy
She messed with Stan, whoas wasn't hers; he's my Stan.

He put a giant star at the bottom, she was the only obstacle towards his and Stan's relationship. To be together was his only hope; and to progress in life together without her in the way. She wouldn't have a choice to try anyways. Besides, she would be dead!

He closed the notebook shut and quietly set it faced down on his duffel bag. He would have been up before Stan, so it wouldn't matter if he got up or not. He climbed up next to Stan, laying down to face him. He was so cute when he slept, he realized. But there was only one last thing that would make it perfect. If his eyes were open. His sea blue eyes were the most important thing to him. He would just dive right into them, letting the salty water consume him slowly but surely. But of course he couldn't do that, they were just eyes.

The last he saw was Stan's sleeping face, and Kyle fell asleep as if he was a baby being rocked in a cradle.

.

.

.

.

.

~ Morning ~
Kyle woke up to the sound of coffee being brewed and breakfast stirring up in the kitchen, which was obviously made by Sharon and Randy.

He could still see Stan's cute face in front of him, like last time. But he couldn't bring himself to kiss him, until the deed was done. He climbed out of bed and went downstairs, taking his hat off in the process; no one except Stan knew he slept with his hat on. He slowly progressed downstairs until met halfway, spying on Stanley's parents. "Ugh, Randy don't do that!" Sharon took the bottle of vodka that Randy was wearily pouring into his coffee.

"Oh c'mon Sharonnnnn... it tastes good...!" Randy complained while he drank an astonishing amount in one gulp.

"So? That doesn't mean that it's good for you! You put vodka in black coffee, who does that Randy?!"

"I do."

"...shut it," Sharon ended the conversation as she put down plates filled with pancakes and fried eggs for her, Randy, Stan and him. He decided to come down at the moment just to break that awkward silence between her and her husband.

He faked a yawn. "Good morning Mrs. Marsh," he said with wearily voice that meant no harm at the same time.

"Oh, morning Kyle! It's good to see you awake; would you be a dear and wake Stan up for me? He's always up late and the food will get cold sooner or later," Sharon set the task up for Kyle while she put syrup on all of their pancakes.

Kyle gladly went upstairs to see the door closed. When he turned it, locked. He knocked on the door; no prevail. He then grabbed a Bobby pin from his hair in which he kept it for situations like this. He jammed at the lock until it made the sound, he turned the door handle and swung the door open.

Stan was at the edge of his bed, a razor in his hands, blood dripping down his arm in large amounts. He looked at Kyle with eyes like a deer in headlights; his mouth moved a little but no sound came out. "Stan; you..." Kyle started to say something but he just couldn't. He had to call it off; he couldn't bear to see his Stan in pain.

"...your mom said that breakfast is ready..." he managed to say that as he slowly walked back downstairs. He instantly looked normal; putting on a little fake smile. He sat down at the table.

"Where's Stan?" Sharon asked him with a mild expression.

"Oh, he's just trying to get up, that's all," Kyle lied. After a few minutes of them eating, Stan went downstairs slowly, his raven black hair in a mess and bags under his eyes, but he had changed his shirt from a short sleeve to a long sleeve. He sat at the table next to Kyle hesitantly.

"Morning..."

"Good morning Stanley," Sharon then turned to Stan. "Oh finally, it's about time you wore a long sleeve. It's becoming more cold outside by the minute!" It was true, December was going to hit them like a bus soon; the weather would be more harsh and there would be more snow to plow through to get into school. The thought lasted in Kyle's mind as the family ate in silence.

When Kyle finished his meal, he got up before anyone else did and hurried to put his dish in the sink. He then went upstairs and got to Stan's room, where he investigated the scene that was made by Stan. There were blood droplets on the floor, the razor was obviously hidden in the drawer. He opened the top shelf and then the bottom. Bingo.

He took out the razor and couldn't even bare to look at it, for it had been cutting deep into Stan's skin just a few minutes earlier. He put it in the drawer once again, exactly where it had been. The blood was unnoticeable, so he left it at that. Then; he heard the doorbell ring from downstairs.

Who could that be?

Words: 1019