Jane heard a faint sound from out in the hallway, but decided it must be the cat. She remained in the kitchen, lost in a dream as she stirred her pots and sliced the vegetables. It wasn't until her husband, Aaron called through from the hallway she realised something was wrong.
"Jane, stay in the kitchen, dear." he called, voice tense. "Don't come out here, okay."
All her instincts told her to go check on him. She held herself steady, hearing him making a hushed call. The pots started to smoke, so she turned the heat off and sat down. She heard Kieran crying, but still remained motionless.
Aaron came through a moment later.
"My Dad's dead. He's dead." Aaron hugged her, forcing calm. "you should go, take Kieran. He's upset, I already put him in the car."
"But, you'll need dinner...." Jane trailed off.
"I'm....I'm not hungry right now." Aaron rubbed his eyes. "I'll walk you out."
As they passed the foot of the stairs, Jane didn't dare look at the figure sprawled on the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a jacket spread across the upper half. The legs didn't look right, crumpled up like a piece of paper.
Jane got back in the car, and Aaron kissed her goodbye before walking to the back door to console Kieran. He wasn't crying any more, but he was terribly still. His face was white, and his eyes looked faraway.
Jane drove home in silence, not knowing where to begin. Keiran started before her.
"I saw him, Mum." he said, "His head was backwards."
Jane gasped.
"Why did it do that?" he stared at his mother in hope.
"He hurt himself, Keiran. Granpa hurt himself a lot."
"Will he be ok?"
"I....I don't think so. Grandpa has.....he's gone up to heaven, sweetie."
"Oh." Keiran looked down. "Ok."
The pair continued in silence till they reached home.
Kieran ran up to his room as soon as he got in the house. Jane fixed him a sandwich, but he wouldn't come down from his room to get it. Jane decided he just needed some quiet time.
As Kieran grew, he grew more and more reclusive. He never mixed too well with the other kids at school, always speaking of death and gruesome attacks.
Jane tried to reach him, but as he reached his teenage years their connection snapped. Arguments over the smallest things were commonplace, and the tension in the house was palpable.
One day, when Keiran was out, she went into his room. She knew he would react if he caught her, but the curiousity overcame her. Scrawled pentagrams adorned the walls, and candles dripped pools of wax all over the shelves.
As she moved into the room, she noticed something on the desk, partially obscured by a ring of candles.
She inched closer, and realised what it was.
A small bird lay on the desk, with a scalpel next to it. It's head was severed, and its chest has been opened up.
She gagged, and ran out of the room, crying.
Jane couldn't look at her son in the eyes after that. He became openly hostile, bringing up anything he knew would scare or anger her.
A week later, they were passing on the landing at the top of the stairs. Keiran grabbed her arm, and looked straight into her eyes.
"Did you like my little experiment, Mum?" His eyes bored through her.
"I don't know what you mean," she replied, trying to pull away. His grip was too tight.
"The bird. Isn't it beautiful?" A distant smile crossed his face. "I'm learning so much, you know. So much. I've realised things."
"I.....I don't understand,".
"This place....this...this is hell. You know that?"
"You're scaring me, Keiran."
"I'm going to help you, Mum. I'm going to help you." He laughed, a cold hollow sound.
He began dragging her by her arm. His strength was too much for her.
"You'll see Granpa, soon. I won't be long." Keiran gripped his mother by both arms.
"This isn't right, Keiran. You can't do this. I'm your mother."
Keiran smiled.
"I'm helping you. You'll see soon."
With that, he let go of Jane. She fell 25 steps, landing on the cold marble hall.
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