Can You keep a Secret?

triggering and adult content ahead. readers discretion advised.

"Can you keep a secret?" the man asks me while I am playing on the swings. The sun is shining like a bright sunflower, and my hair is wet after my evening bath. There is a nice breeze wafting around the two of us in the park.

It is almost dinner time and I need to head off but the man has offered a secret and my twelve year old brain can’t refuse. I need to know the secret before I head down for dinner!

So I stay.

"Sure, but you'll need to hurry up. My Mom's gonna be out any minute to get me for dinner."

He seems agitated when I say that and quickly holds my hand, staring behind my back at my house as if a monster might pop out any minute. "Let's go to my van, hmm?" He says, pulling me away without even waiting for a reply. His grip is hard and it kind of hurt. But he’s smiling at me and looks like a good man. "We'll have more privacy and I'll tell you all about that secret and you can drink hot chocolate while I tell you!"

"Like in Narnia!?"

He nods eagerly, shoving me into the dingy van and quickly buckling me in. I don’t think much of it; he seems harmlessly nice.

He couldn't possibly hurt me.

“Do you like secrets?” he asks me, an eager grin on his face.

“Yep~ I love secrets!” 

“Good, girl.”

I wait in the passenger seat. Eager to listen to this grand secret of his as he punches the ignition and starts driving. I wait patiently for him to reach the destination. He has promised hot chocolate, after all. 

“Where are we going, Mister?”

He ignores me so I choose to look out the window for clues of where we're headed. Mom always says to never distract the driver.

We seem to be travelling towards the outskirts of the town. I’m not sure why we need to go so far for some hot chocolate but he looks like a good, harmless man for now. And Mom always tells me never to judge a book by it’s cover. 

The duller the cover, the better the book.

He pulls out a bottle from the dashboard in front of me once we drive past the police station. It’s covered in a brown paper bag and about the size of a water bottle. He keeps drinking from it. I don’t understand why he wouldn't offer some to me, but Mom did tell me that sometimes adults drink things children should not. 

And he seems nice enough so I’ll forgive him for being rude.

His eyes keep darting towards me as he drives. An unknown expression shading his face. He almost looks like Jafar from Aladdin for a moment.

I shrug it off. It’s almost time for dinner and I had promised Mom, I'd be home by then.

By the time we reached the destination -- a quiet, eerie forest enclosing -- the sky is crimson and blue, and the man looks hungry too.

"When are you gonna tell me that secret, Mister?" I ask him as he’s unbuckling my seat belt.

He has a devilish grin sitting on his face. And he looks at me like he’s ready to eat me. It almost grosses me out, but I have to know the secret. I can not leave without knowing.

He leans towards me, hands riding up my legs -- up my skirt. And he growls into my ear, "oh~ muffin. I'll tell you that secret alright."

He is too close, and smells of the bad juice that daddy drinks on weekends. And he is touching above my knee. And he’s just too close!

His breath makes me feel dizzy and I hate him! 

And his secret’s out now.

He is a bad guy.

The kind my mother had told me about.

I smile at the knowledge. Mom’s always right.

The badder they are, the better they taste.

Without warning, I sink my canines into his carotid artery, relishing in his desperate cry of pains. And pull back fiercely, unable to stop my giggles as I pull out his clavicle.

His blood spurting everywhere, I smirk into his face, leaning down to lick that sweet, sticky thickness off his neck.

The look of betrayal is evident in his terrified eyes and Oh~ how I love that fear in their eyes! Feigning innocence as if they aren’t devils that deserve much worse than being eaten alive. 

He’s trembling as he moves back and races out the car. Falling and crawling as he tries to escape. And I can’t help but laugh at his utter stupidity.

He’s so utterly helpless it’s hilarious!

Leisurely, I jump out the van, skipping towards him as he tries to escape me. That fool. I catch up to him in no time and it’s so delightful watching him beg for mercy. 

I love watching them beg.

And his cries sound even more delightful when I bend down to bite off his achilles tendon. Mom might get mad that I ate it, but I don’t care. It’s my reward for catching such a fine specimen for tonight, right? There’s no running away now. The cries his lips illicit are music to my ears when coupled with the eerie forest and the cawing crows.

He's perfect for dinner, I clap my hands excitedly. Mom will be delighted!

I drag him back to the van. Letting his skull hit a few of the boulders in the way, and push him into the passenger seat as he writhes in pain. Enjoying his ugly sounds of despair filling the car as I drive back home.

As we enter the driveway, I turn to him. Still alive, still fresh. Because they taste so much better alive. And smile almost just as deviously as he had back in the woods. 

I enjoy their fear so much.

Patting his head violently, his body shakes like a leaf in a storm, I mumble into his ear, "Mister, can you keep a secret?"

author’s note: yes, I enjoy torturing imaginary pedophiles and murderers.