AmericaxReader-Crack!-Request

AmericaxReader-Crack!-Request

When Alfred walked into his house, he knew something was terribly wrong. He threw down his things and immediately went into the kitchen where usually, his wife, __________, would be grinding meat up for hamburger patties.

"____________?" he called out into the unusually quiet house. "____________ , are you there?"

Then he froze as soon as he stepped into the hard, cold tiles of his kitchen.

____________ was lying with her eyes closed on the kitchen floor, her apron still crisp white and unstained by grease splashes, her body completely unscathed with no signs of injuries or blood spilt.

"___________!" Alfred cried and rushed over to his wife. "NO!!" Tears streaking down his cheeks, he clutched his limp wife and brought her to his chest. She was stone cold. She didn't have a pulse. She was dead.

"Wh-Wh-Whyyy…" Alfred wept.

CPR. CPR would revive her!

Desperately, he pressed his mouth onto ___________'s and began to blow as hard as he could. Nothing. He tried again.

"No!" he screamed. "This can't be happening! Wake up, dammit!"

Alfred placed ____________ back on the floor and began to pump her chest hoping to get some circulation into her still lungs. No success.

Then something struck him.

"Where's the baby?!" he asked aloud. He went to the first room that was closest to the kitchen: the bathroom. When he went inside, he wasn't expecting the horrific sight his eyes fell upon.

There, in the sink, was the decapitated head of his only, precious child.

His mouth was dry. He couldn't speak. Only hoarse gasps and moans escaped his parched throat. With shaking hands, he grabbed the head of child from out of the sink, his/her head dripping from freshly-spilt cotton balls. Yes. Cotton balls.

Then, yet another thought struck him.

"Where's your body?"

He then began to feverously search his house. As he arrived into the baby's room, he saw something suspended within the blades of the ceiling fan. His baby's headless body was hanging from strips of stretched-out cotton and entrails of pure-white four-stitched threads.

A chair happened to be conveniently there for Alfred to climb up on and reach out to free his baby's body from the fan.

"N-N-Nooooo…" he sobbed. A slew of negative emotions hit him.

"What monster would do this to me?!" he cried out to no one in particular. Perhaps the world, perhaps his luck, but whoever the intended audience was, he cried out openly with no promise of an answer.