Will you play with me? Please?

1: The Night Game

*----Disclaimer----*

If you didn't read the disclaimer in the description of this story, then I'll say it one more time. This story will contain A LOT of descriptions of gore and extreme violence. If you can't stand this sort of thing, I'd advise you to leave and read something else. Thank you!

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???: "Lucy! It's time for dinner, come on down and eat."

I heard my mom call out from the kitchen downstairs. I lay down my red crayons and look at the digital clock that shows 18:32. Time does just fly by when you're having fun planning your little games, right?

Lucy: "Coming right down, Mommy!"

I quickly stash away my drawings while giggling. I wouldn't want my parents to see my drawings after all. They're not something a normal 6-year-old would draw. At least, that's what I think.

After hiding my drawings, I hurriedly run out my room and down the spiral stairs that lead to the front door. To the right of the door, lay the kitchen and dining room, while to the left the living room, as well as the bathroom and the garage, lay. As I turn to go into the dining room, I walk by a mirror. A small girl with purplish hair and dark eyes stand. That's me. An adorable, innocent little girl. People would never suspect it's all a false facade. One big lie that's been deceiving them all.

I walk into the dining room, seeing my mom in the kitchen preparing the food. Sitting at the table, I look around myself. The dining room's not big, but it's not small either. The walls are white, while the floor's made of dark wood in intriguing patterns. The lamp above the table gives off a warm hue, making me feel extremely cosy.

Lucy: "What's for dinner mommy?"

Mom: "Oh, just some vegetable soup with chicken and some bread on the side." (A/N: The best I could come up with. I know absolutely nothing about food.)

She quickly walks over with a pot that's releasing massive amounts of steam and places it on a coaster on the table. Instantly the smell washes over me. It's got this smell that I simply cannot describe in words. Mommy's food will never seize to surprise me. Even just a normally sloppy dish like this could smell so good. Sometimes I wonder why she's not a professional chef, as she could be recognised in the world of cooking.

Only now did it hit me that dad's not sitting at the table. Usually, he would be the first one to arrive, since he'd never want to miss a meal Mommy makes. He's just like me when it comes to her creation of unbelievably delicious food.

Lucy: "Mommy, where's dad?"

Mom: "*Sigh*, his workplace called him and asked him to take a shift for one of his co-workers."

Oddly enough, something like this has never happened before. I feel weird. Dad's always been sitting at the table together with Mommy and me. Even if work called, he'd usually decline instead of accepting their request. Maybe I'm paranoid, but I feel like my Mommy's not telling me all there is to it. Perhaps it's something that I won't understand, I'm not sure.

-----------*Timeskip, ~1 hour*-----------