PROMPT: by @GothicLit  - The colour of blood shows the severity of someone's crimes. What happens when you discover someone close to you has pitch black blood?

Mom stands before the open freezer and says, "The blood pads aren't here! Where can we get some goddamned red blood!? The operation is at stake if I'm found out and my cases are overturned or re-tried."

I gasp at the implications of what my mom, one of the toughest, but fairest, judges on the high-court circuit, is saying.

She turns and catches sight of me where I'm peeking through the hall door.

Faster than I imagined possible she jerks open the door and snatches my wrist in a vice-like grip.

"I'll call you back." She slips the phone into the pocket of her tailored black suit.

"Did you clean out the freezer?" she snaps.

I nod silently, afraid of the coldness in her eyes.

She squeezes my wrist painfully, making me cry out. "You idiot! Can't you follow directions and just leave the refrigerator alone!"

Tears run down my face. "I just wanted to help."

"You've damn near botched years of work, you silly cow! Come here!" She tugs me into the kitchen and forces my hand palm-up on the counter.

I sob and try to break free when she grabs a knife.

She attempts to slice my finger open. I jerk my arm and push my shoulder into her. The knife slips and stabs mom's other palm instead.

She screams and slaps me across the face. I tumble to the floor, sobbing.

Mom raises her hand. Blood black as tar runs from the cut. My mom - a respected judge! - has the blood of a killer.

She catches the drip with the dishcloth just before it mars the cuff of her pristine white silk blouse.

Without warning Mom drops down to sit on me. Her black skirt pushes up farther as she lifts one knee to press it painfully on one wrist, then pins the other.

I'm so preoccupied with the pain and fear of my wrist bones snapping, I only realise she's grabbed the knife when she slices open my finger.

"Ouch!" I cry out.

Mom doesn't say sorry. Just gloats at the bright red blood dripping onto the white tile floor.

She drops the knife, re-pins my wrist, and retrieves her phone. "Richard, opportunity delivered a blood bank to us. Send someone for collection. We have just enough time to make a new blood pad before court starts."

An ugly sneer curls mom's mouth. "All those years of righteous living and vegetarianism have paid off."

She picks up the knife again and holds it out menacingly. "Let me explain how life for you will be from now on."

Who is this woman? my mind screams as she explains I'll now be her personal blood-bank and a prisoner in my own home.

WORD COUNT: 500