Matricide

As Delilah climbed the stairs, she heard her mother pushing something heavy across the floor. She couldn't help but giggle. She was obviously trying to block the door, as if that would stop Delilah getting in. True despite being a soul without a vessel she still had a solid form, but she was far stronger than she looked. It would take more than a dresser or a bed or any other item of furniture to prevent her from opening that door.

When she reached the top of the stairs she stopped for a moment to listen. Even from here she could hear her mother's rapid breathing as she tried to calm herself. This part was almost as exiting as the catch. Listening to them panic, just waiting to be caught, knowing there was nothing they could do to save themselves, yet still hoping it was all some kind of nightmare. She approached the bedroom, rattling the door handle just for fun. She grinned when this elicited a shriek from inside the room.

"Oh dear, are you afraid of me mother?" She asked in an almost singsong voice. Then she took a deep breath, and heaved on the door with both hands. It did take some effort, she wasn't yet as strong as she one day hoped to be, but she soon managed to push the door open. It turned out to be a dresser that had been blocking the door, and though it was large, heavy, and full, Delilah pushed it out of her way with ease now that she'd made it through the door.

Her mother shrieked again, it sounded like something out of a cheesy horror movie (she'd watched a lot of these with her Father, learning exactly how not to hunt humans) and she couldn't believe people actually made those sounds in real life.

"Get away from me! I don't know what you are, but get out!" Her mother demanded, despite being petrified. She couldn't back away any further, her back against the outside wall of the bedroom, so she simply stood there, staring at Delilah as though merely yelling at her would scare her away.

"But I don't want to. You got rid of me once, this time isn't going to be so easy." Delilah grinned an evil little grin, and slid her little knife from under her bow. "I want to play." She said ,slowly walking toward her mother. She laughed as her mother tried to move further back with nowhere to go.

"I said get back!" Her mother screeched as she darted to her left, yanking a lamp from the bedside table and wielding it like a weapon. This action tugged the cord out of the socket and left it dangling in the air. Foolish human. Delilah rushed forward with inhuman speed, grabbed the cord, and in a few swift motions she'd jumped on the bed and had the thing wrapped around her mother's neck.

"Really, that's quite rude you know." Delilah scolded, pulling the cord just tight enough to keep her mother choking for air, but not tight enough to cut off the supply completely. She wasn't done yet.

Her mother fell to her knees, pulling at the cord frantically, desperate to get free. Her terrified breathing made the lack of air even more difficult, and she was starting to panic. Delilah simply giggled and continued talking. "It's been one hundred years, you know. Oh I know it's only been ten years up here, but where I've been it's been an awfully long time." She shifted so that her face was next to her mother's, her pigtails brushing against her cheek. "Do you know where I've been?" When no answer was forthcoming, she loosened the cord just a fraction.

"No, no I don't." Her mother choked out while gasping for air. Satisfied with the answer, Delilah tightened her grip once more.

"I've been in Hell. Though we prefer the Underworld. Sounds less judgy." She sat down on the bed, feet only just reaching the floor. "You see, when you made that little deal of yours" here she waved the knife that was in her left hand in her mother's face "I got taken straight to the torture chambers of hell. And let me tell you, it is no picnic down there. Fire, knives, drowning, red hot pokers, the lot." She sighed, smiling a little. Sure, when she had been on the receiving end of the torture she had hated it, but she'd grown to enjoy doling it out. "You did that to me. You sent me down there."

Her mother started trying to shake her head, tears now wetting her cheeks as she fought to remain in control. "No? No you didn't send me down there? Is that what you're trying to say?" Her mother nodded her head, and Delilah laughed. "Oh, but you did. You begged for your own life, gave mine up instead. I was just a little girl, your little girl, and you sold me for the price of one measly soul? Do you know you can't even buy a hovel with that down there?"

By now her mother was seriously struggling for breath, and it looked like she might pass out. Not wanting her to miss out on the fun to come, Delilah let go of the lamp and jumped to her feet, brandishing her little knife.

"I didn't know." Her mother sobbed after coughing for what felt like an entire minute. She seemed to be regaining control of her breathing now, but her eyes were still wide with terror. "I swear I didn't know."

"He was a demon, mother. What exactly did you think he was going to do, bake me cookies?" Delilah scoffed, flicking her knife and making a tiny slash on her mother's abdomen. This caused her to yelp and fall back, hitting her head on the edge of the bedside table. Much to Delilah's disappointment the impact didn't cause a bleed.

"I didn't know." She repeated, trying to get to her feet. She stopped when Delilah swiped at her again with the knife, this time slashing her arm. "I wasn't thinking! I was scared!"

"How do you think I felt?!" Delilah shouted back. She didn't often lose her temper, but then a job had never been personal before. How could this snivelling human sit there and try to defend what she had done? Delilah had been tortured for days before she finally gave in. She didn't remember anything about her life. Knew nothing about herself. She'd had to learn everything all over again.

"I'm sorry!" Her mother cried, breaking down into huge, pathetic sobs. Delilah had hoped to enjoy this, but the stupid human was taking all the fun out of it.

"Not as sorry as you're going to be." She scowled and jabbed her blade straight into her mother's stomach, just below the sternum, then yanked down on it hard. She watched as the fear on her mother's face turned to shock. She watched as her mother tried to hold in her organs, blood spilling over her fingers like a fountain. She did gain a little pleasure as she watched that shocked expression fade, and the light leave her mother's eyes. It was far better than what she had deserved.

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Delilah smiled to herself as she remembered her first kill, laying on her over-sized bed. It was fitting that it should be her own mother, the one who had birthed her and indeed been the cause of her rebirth. Honestly the job had gone as smoothly as it could. Once the woman was dead, Delilah's demon escort had showed up to claim the last of his payment- her mother's soul- and take her home. Even now, over four hundred years later, she didn't regret that part at all. She had considered keeping her mother's soul and torturing it herself, but it wasn't worth it. She'd had her revenge and moved on. That woman was not worth the effort. She really hadn't known why her Father had wanted that soul in the first place. She knew the truth now of course.