A/N ; theres a gruesome scene here so,, beware,,

"LUCY, I swear to God Himself I will---"

"You'll what, Mary?" The blond sneered, and Paul clenched his fists. "I can fuck Jim whenever I want and you can't do anything about it because he doesn't love you."

The familiar shade of murderous red rose up his mother's neck. She looked like a bomb that was seconds away from blowing up.

"Listen here you little slut," She spat, venom lacing her usually soft voice. "I'll tell Jim you've been fucking with his co-worker."

Paul watched in satisfaction as the smug little smirk on the whore's face fell.

"Fuck you!" She screeched, sounding like a banshee even from the telephone line.

Mary slammed the phone back into the receiver and her nails curled like talons, long and uncut due to the fact that she had been neglecting herself for the past few months.

"What does he even see in her?! She's a slut, a fake! An absolute whore! Am I right, Paulie?"

He nodded vigorously, and Mary walked over and pressed a kiss to his forhead.

"They're disgusting aren't they, love?" She whispered, a maniacal glint in her eyes. Paul gazed back with terrified eyes but he couldn't disagree. She was right. She was always right. "Hideous little whores, selling their bodies for money. We're not like that. We have dignity, don't we?"

"You want her gone, don't you?" He mumbled, feeling sickenly disgusted in the pit of his stomach. No, his mind scolded, listen to mother. Mother knows best.

"Oh sweetheart," Mary said in a sickenly sweet voice as she ran her fingers through her seventeen year old son's hair. "I want all of them gone. All of them." Her lips stretched into a cheshire smile and Paul felt her kiss his forhead again. "I want every single whore dead."

<><><><><>

"Jim? Oh, it's you."

Ignoring the obvious tone of dissapointment, Paul gave Lucy a small, charming smile.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah, sure," Lucy sauntered to the kitchen, as she always did when she had guests. "Tea or coffee, James?"

"Tea, please." He answered, stumbling a bit because of his shoes that were one size bigger than usual. His mother insisted on it, especially with the glove she had tucked in his pocket.

'Make mummy proud.'

"Um, Luce?"

"Yeah?"

"I... I need to g-go to the bathroom."

She sighed, a cigarette hanging low from her cherry pink lips. Two steaming mugs of tea were in front of her.

"It's the one with the yellow door."

Paul uttered a quick thank you and went to the bathroom. His heart was clogged at his throat and he couldn't help but think the whole situation over.

Don't dissapoint mommy now, Paulie. You know what happens when I'm dissapointed.

"Luce?" He called out, tucking the small switchblade carefully so the blonde wouldn't see it. "The toilet's clogged!"

The sound of her heels clacking against the wooden floor matched his heartbeat, and Paul prayed that he didn't sweat so much since the knife kept slipping out of his grasp.

"Again?" Lucy grunted, running a lazy hand through her ponytail of bottle-blonde hair. "Lemme have a look."

She bent over, either purposely or to check the bowl in general, her short shorts revealing black lacy underwear. Paul bit his lip, feeling uncomfortable at the sight.

"I--- Hey!" Lucy uttered in annoyance when he pressed against her back. "Ja---"

She didn't finish when the knife sliced through her throat, eyes widening as crimson blood splattered all over the white toilet seat.

Paul watched as Lucy spluttered, unable to scream as she clutched her split-open neck. Red gushed out of her cut throat, spilling over her red tank top, dripping down to her shorts. Paul grabbed her head and bent it over the toilet seat so it wouldn't make such a mess.

Lucy went limp, bloodstained hands falling into the sheer red water. Paul let go of her hair, gloved knuckles turning from white to pink and he started to shake, the horror of the scene slamming into him.

His very first murder.