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Finger Lickin' Good
Creative
 Created on 9-23-08
 Views(43)
 Story Rating G
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Tonight Joey went without a babysitter. He was finally old enough to be home alone. It was about 7 at night.
His parents were off to a banquet for his dad's work. His father had received a promotion and it was a very special night for him.
There was a storm raging outside as his parents walked out the door. "We'll be back around 11pm," they told him.
Joey sat on the couch watching television with his dog Rufus. He had the dog for awhile now, he was 5 years old. Outside, the storm was getting worse. Suddenly, the power went out.
He went into the kitchen and got the flashlight out of the drawer. "I might as well go to bed now, " he said to himself. "Come on Rufus," he called as he went upstairs to his room.
He brushed his teeth in the dim illumination of the flashlight. Then he put on his pajamas and crawled into bed.
Rufus laid down in his customary spot on the floor at the side of the bed. Joey slowly drifted off to sleep.
A loud thunderclap woke Joey out of his slumber. The aftershocks rumbled throughout the night. Scared, Joey reached down to pet Rufus. He felt a lick at his fingers as if in assurance that all was well. Calmed, he started to fall back asleep.
Shortly after closing his eyes another clap of thunder startled him awake. He reached down for Rufus and again received a protective lick of the fingers.
Joey again tried to ignore the storm and return to sleep when he noticed a dripping sound emmanating from the bathroom. He must have left the faucet on a little bit after brushing his teeth. He stayed in bed too afraid to get up in the darkness. "Drip....drip....drip," the faucet continued it's ryhthm.
Finally Joey couldn't take it anymore. He crawled out of bed and went to his door. He noticed that the streetlights were on outside. The power must have been restored.
He opened his door and walked down the hallway to the bathroom. He opened the door and turned the light switch on.
There, hanging from the shower rod, was Rufus. He had been ripped open from throat to stomach, intestines hanging out like the coils of a fat snake. "Drip...drip...drip" went the blood into the bathtub.
Joey screamed, his heart in his throat. And that's when he noticed on the mirror, written in blood, the words, "Psychopathic killers love to lick fingers."
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