Chapter Text
Ricky stared at his father, if he could even call him that anymore laid on the half torn up rug that rested in the trailer.
His right arm had two bite marks, still oozing with blood.
Ricky’s mind raced back to the gruesome sight of his mother and sister in the same position, except instead of just their arms being a bloody mess, their whole bodies were.
But Ricky’s father was as pale as ever, even paler than after the death of his mother and sister and he didn’t go outside for months after. No, it was almost white.
Ricky stared down at his hands. Then, he realized, his hands were bloody too.
Just as when he held his mother and sister when he was young, screaming and crying in agony.
He didn’t scream and cry this time.