Mushrooms – Piece 5
Samantha’s anger had lasted for only a couple of minutes since Uncle John was quick to correct the that kind of behavior.
Fear. Fear was something Uncle John was good at invoking. He never had to open the cage to induce fear. He just needed a little prodding, sometimes with an actual cattle prod. The sparks flew as he tapped the metal bars of the cage. His eyes lit up and spit began to fall down the side of his mouth as he stunned her repeatedly. She tried to reach for it – she wasn’t agile or fast enough – but only ended up zapping herself in her hand.
Her eyes even seemed to sweat, Ryan had thought to himself as the blues of the arcing light danced.
She became tired which had made it easy to handcuffed her. He carried her like an old finished up tag doll no one played with and took her upstairs. Ryan had finally finished his mural during the mayhem.
He stepped back and shined his flashlight at the grassy knoll. He followed the dirt path through the clouds of butterfly and over towards the dirt patch. There stood eight mushrooms. Each one represented the captives that had died in the bedroom up above.
Further, next to the trove of mushrooms stood a large diseased oak tree. He didn’t know what compelled him to add it but he thought it completed the project – and it did. Its branches twisted into the sky away from the dirt patch of mushrooms. The center one he had thought was his – in case he were to die. Maybe I’m already dead the idea was intriguing to the boy and he sat back, stared at his mural, moving the flashlight across the different pieces, and thought to himself the many intricate details of his short life.
Samantha was carried back into her cage moments later. She was too tired to struggle, too tired to care, Uncle John made sure of that.
Samantha entered stage four and was the first to reach it at such an incredible speed. She was also the first to reach a new stage – vengeance.
Next: Piece 6