I was sweating too much, my grip on this life saver was loose as I rushed forward and stabbed the first man in the back, black substance oozing out of his back, like a slimy train chugging its way down like an avalanche. I retreated the knife out of him and he fell onto the floor, lifeless, his glassy eyes staring up at me in an uncomfortable fashion. The second man took no time to charge at me but I dodged and impaled his heart with the kitchen knife. There was no black blood, it was light red, normal until he also fell, his body just incinerated, blown away out the window by the gentle breeze.

The third man stood there and did something which now I don't classify him as a man, but a thing. His dirty yellow nails grew long and converted into razor sharp blades, his head grew two curling spikes, like a ram, but sharp and gleaming, one touch could make you bleed. His rotten crusty teeth grew minutely fast and turned into pointy canines, dripping with blood from his last meal maybe?

Mum put down the phone and she turned in terror as she took in the murderous moment as blood littered the carpet and a man's eyes turning white looking at her and she screamed, but came back with a longer knife with an awesome blade. Now this is what I call fair play. We rushed at the man at the same time and he had some difficulty choosing which of us to go for. The rank smell of blood and rotten flesh filled our nostrils up and we coughed, our eyes watering, and he took the chance, advancing towards mum. Police cars echoed in the distance, gradually getting louder as they rushed furiously to the scene of attempted kidnap.

The horned man pounced on mum like a cat and shredded her to pieces, blood spraying everywhere. I gasped, my own mother, sweet and loving, came to a gory end. How dare he! I charged at him, my emotions taking over the best of me as I swung my knife and it landed on his head. He yelped in pain, his eyes flashed red with hatred. If it weren't for the police cars up ahead I would of been killed. Blue lights filled the room as dozens of men rushed into the room and took down the horned beast, shooting him and impaling him with several spears and shock-guns. I was scared, I never wanted to do such a thing again. The dream of seeing my own mother again was just, overwhelming.

 I cried. I cried in the police car. I cried into the arms of a policewomen. I cried as they asked questions. I cried in my new foster home. I cried as they brought my belongings and a few of my mums possessions. I cried myself to sleep in this unfamiliar home.