Sam had a look of horror on his face as he stumbled away from the scene before him. He knew he couldn't stop. Sam walked quickly to the front door and pulled at the brass handle, desperately trying to get away as fast as possible. He stopped for a second just as he got through the door. Sam's hands were shaking, violently. There was only one thing for it. He knew he had to hide the evidence. The evidence of his undeniable deed. One that will live on. Forever.
Sam quickly picked himself up and ran to the bathroom as he tried to rub the blood off of his hands. His eyes were red and his face and white shirt crimson with the blood of the ones he loved. Sam was only a 13 yr old boy; Who knew such deadly tension could build up in a child of that age. When he finally got the courage to look in the mirror, he stopped right in his tracks. All he saw was a version of himself that he only dreamed about, that he never knew existed.
He saw himself smiling. He saw...