There was an unsatisfied growl, that slipped from a young man's half closed mouth, he was sleeping on a old bed, the covers half torn and mangled around his legs, his face buried in two thin pillows, that failed to damp the odd noises coming from his mouth.
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He stood there, watching his mother cook breakfest, his father once more, nowhere to be seen or heard. The young Andrew was too sleepy to notice the look on his mother's face, which held a thoughtful expression...maybe that was the reason she was cooking in a pot.
"Mom...what are you doing?" Came the child's question, so true to the point the woman snapped out from her daydream and looked down, where her pantleg was tugged at by the small boy, eager to somehow get her attention.
"Nothing, hon, just pondering is all. Dad's working late tonight again. He shouldn't be too long tho, when you return from the cadet school, ill let you stay up a bit later to let you say goodnight."
The boy nodded a little and smiled, before he darted off to pack his bag and get dressed to catch the next civilian transport from their temporary home- Pittsburgh, where his father had a job at the extractors, and the company would willingly provide their workers with cheap apartments.
The boy's mother shook her head silently and returned to clean the pot, still lost in thought...something was bugging her.
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Pete watched Andrew as he approached the offboarding platform and gave a evil sneer. "Hey pipsqueek...guess what, we decided, that we will ask Hyuen, Gerrarth, Illon and Reery to be on our new team." Mort was a little confused at first and narrowed his eyes just a little, the two sevenyearolds were cloging up the line, so they began to head down to the West Point cadet sector. "What do you mean, Illon...he's not even from our grade. He's younger than all of us." Pete only chuckled and patted the boy on the cheek "Heh, still more of a use than you are, weakling." With a laugh Pete left the boy standing there, looking confused.
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Allis greeted Andrew with a smile as usual, crouching down to hug her son properly and sighed in relief. He was home. Nothing had happened. The criminal attacks on civilian convoys increased every day, if she was not worrying as she watched him prepare to leave the safety of their home, she was worrying if he would return. "Dad's not home, Andie, I know you miss him, I am sure he misses you as well." For some reason her voice didn't sound too confidant about that. She had a feeling her husband had been cheating on her for a while now, she just had no other way to prove it. The only person she could still trust in the home was her son, if she would loose him, she would have noone.
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Pete watched dumbfounded as Mort drank another bottle. Watching him do so made him somewhat amased and a little scared. "Hey...Mortimer...easy now, kid. You don't know what you're doing. " He warned him. Not that he cared, but he was in enough trouble as it was to risk him being cought with this pisqueak drunk.
The reply as a sob from the boy siting under the table, clutching a bottle in his hand "Can't beleave it...he cheated on mom..." A year had past, the now eight year old Mort had not too long ago found out about his father's sidesteps in life, but to hear it from some stranger too...
"Get.....away from.....me, you freak." Was all the reply Pete got from the drunk boy and he shruged it off and left.
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The door to his parent's room opened quietly, Andrew stepped inside of the room and closed the door behind him once more and crouched before his mother's nightstand to take out the pedicure box she had there and took out a toeclipper and smiled to himself. His eyes were somewhat glazed from the three bottles he had drunk long ago still and he needed a few attempts, before he could stand up to look down at the older woman, who slept in the cold, clutching a pillow to her chest, alone.
His father was out again.
The young boy smiled again and chuckled to himself..."So I guess, momma, you knew this all along...? My dad had his reasons not to be here with you....I could be there with him...learning how to...work on those ships...yet you stole him from me...?" He asked it to himself...he chuckled again and sat on the edge of the bed and unfolded the toeclipper's foldback file for the nail smoothing. "Stealing is not good, momma, then again I do not know if you really are my momma now..." He stated simply and took the clipper in his hand, before bringing the sharp tip of the file to the woman's neck and he smiled.
"This is for you, dad."
He smiled, half closed eyes could see the sharp peace of stainless steel dissipate in the flesh of muscle and he retreated it, holding her head to the side, he let it enter her neck, cutting her most vital blood vessels in one inexperienced motion. He didn't really feel the blood on his hands. He didn't feel much at that point. All he watched was done by his hands alone, the sharp yet small opening of the clipper cutting off peaces of skin, inch by inch around her neck, exposing the tissue underneeth, which met a simmilar fate.
Inches passed, time did as well, the blood soaked covers had more or less dried and became crumbled, the heart had long ago stoped beating, giving up on trying to speak to stop the boy from his actions. Yet he did not stop at all, the surroundings were litered by small peaces of muscle and hair, the half asleep Mort had reached the neck bones...he took his mother's head by the cheeks, allmost like a lover's, before the final twist was made and he droped it on her chest.
Andrew yawned tiredly at a work well done, before he moved out of his mother's room and closed the door behind him, not to open it ever again.
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"Cort is now in session. Today's file is #436-364. Subject name: Andrew Mortimer Elkern. Born on planet Manhattan. Current residence: Manhattan juvenile prison.
Subject stands accused for the following crimes: Third grade murder.
Taking in mind, the person in underage, his parents must attend to this court. Is Mr.Mortimer here?"
"No, sir, there is no records for such a person in the birth database."
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Andrew's eyes opened and he sat up to rub his neck and sigh a little. Was it really time to get up again? The young man looked around his space. Alcatraz was not the most cosy of bases he lived on, but this was the closest one to home.
He didnt even remember what he was dreaming of...
"Oddly rested...." He murmured to himself as he streached, feeling a series of popping sounds go up his backbone as he stood up to go hunt down someone to tell him what day it was. He blinked and returned to his room once more to take a toeclipper off his nightstand, before moving to the hallways of the Rogue base, idly clipping his ingrown nails.