“Will you always love me mommy?” Jack, my six year old mastermind son said and quietly climbed into the bed beside me. “No matter what I do?”

Jack loved to play the piano. He loved to create his own little songs, play along with his father, because he was just so good at it. It was his dream to be the greatest musician in the world. But he was only six. Six. I woke up in the middle of the night to the ‘tick tock’ sound of a metronome, It was coming from downstairs. Then I heard the piano play. I walked downstairs and found Jack playing quietly in the dark. “I couldn't sleep.” he mumbled, his head bowed and his fingers moving over the keys slowly. “Don't be mad.” The metronome kept the beat. It was loud and it’s ticks were clear. His playing was deep and off key. “Oh Jack, I wouldn't be mad. I was just wondering what you were doing down here.” He didn't raise his head and the only light was coming from the moon outside. “Do you want a glass of milk?” I asked and sat on the bench beside him. He stopped playing and laid his hands in his lap. “Mommy, will I need to go to the doctor?” he asked in a worried voice. I raised an eyebrow. “Why would you need to go to the doctor?” he sighed. “Because I feel funny.” I reached up and clicked off the metronome. His voice seemed distant. Jack himself seemed distant. “Well then why don't you try to get to bed. I’ll tuck you in.” he quietly tapped a low key on the piano and looked up at me. His face was pale and dull. “Okay.” he stood up and walked over to the banister and started up the steps. He laid in his bed when he arrived in his room and pulled the covers over his head. “Goodnight.” I said and pulled the covers down to see his head, but he was already fast asleep. I walked quietly over the door and noticed a small notebook laying silently on his desk. I picked it up and opened it. It was a sketchbook of drawings. It was sort of a journal, more or less. It had pictures of Jack and what seemed to look like his me and his dad. Jack in front of his school building. Jack- holding a hammer? I turned the page. Jack was using the hammer to- The day before I was required by law to take him to a psychiatrist to have his intelligence and ability tested. His level of ability was off the charts. The psychiatrist said that Jack was a child genius. Not just with music, but with everything. And that honestly scared me. But it shouldn't scare me, should it? He never seemed to have the knowledge he had just before two weeks ago when he started writing out complicated math equations. Solving them. But what were they for? I flipped through the notebook and saw the same sort of equations he was writing out. Things that I had never even heard of before. I walked into my bedroom and pulled out my phone to call the psychiatrist. “What’s the matter? Anything new with Jack?” she asked. “Something.” I mumbled tiredly. “He’s writing out these math problems, and, and I don't even know what they mean. What could he be thinking of? Why is he doing this?” there was a long pause. “Well perhaps he’s just exploring his new abilities.” she said. “But they're- they're all connecting to something. Something about a hammer? I guess. He made this drawing-” I took a deep breath and let it out. “There have been cases where children have drawn about their imaginary friends, but genius they were not. I think your son is having issues processing something.” I frowned and peered out the window. Rain was battering against it from the outside. “Do you mean like- something is wrong with his brain?” “No, what I think this means is that something is trying to get into his mind. His soul perhaps.” I gasped quietly. “You- you're crazy, you don't know what youre talking about.-” “I do ma’m. There have been cases where possessions have led to violence.” I screwed up my face in confusion. “My kid is not violent!” I hung up the phone and powered it off. The next day I woke up to the noise of the piano downstairs playing. It was a lot less tired and sleepy sounding and a bit more cheery. I smiled, sat up and walked downstairs to greet Jack and play along with him. “Good morning.” I laid a hand on Jack’s shoulder and smiled. Jack immediately stopped playing. He looked up at me and frowned worriedly. “Mommy, do you think i’m a bad kid?” Did he hear my conversation last night?- I thought. “No sweetie, of course not.” he didn't seem assured though. He hardly spoke during the entire time of breakfast. “Where’s dad?” he asked. “Oh, he’s working a late shift.” “But it’s the morning time.” I sighed and smiled. “Well, he needed to work just a little longer today.” Jack stood up and walked past the piano. He had something small and shiny in his back pocket. “You need to get ready for school.” he turned around. “But I thought that I was too smart for school.” I sighed and smiled again, standing up and walking over to him. “You still need to attend. It’s required for you to go to school by law.” he sighed and shrugged my hand off his shoulder. “Okay.” I reached inside his pocket as he turned to leave. He quickly turned around and recoiled. Whatever it was, he did NOT want me to grab the thing in his back left pocket. This bothered me. When I dropped him off at school, I gave him a kiss on the cheek and let him out of the car. I watched him run up the steps, pull open the door, and step inside. I was worried for that kid. I drove home worried. Ate lunch worried. I even took a walk in the local park worried, wondering what was going on at the school.

Narrator’s POV

Jack sat down on a swing on the playground during recess and pushed himself slowly back and forth with his legs. “Hey! Smartie pants!” a few boys who were taller and much less mature than him snickered. The tallest of the three six year old boys was Miles. “Do you need me to push you?!” he came up from behind him and shoved him off the swing. Jack got up and brushed off his jeans. All the while, he stayed silent. The other two boys, Raymon and Ru, were twins and they were equally as mean as the other. Jack looked at his feet and peered up at them darkly. “What're you gonna do, huh? Talk me to death about your stupid brain!?” Jack tried to keep a straight face. There was something inside of him that was taking over. Something not so nice. In his back pocket was a shard of mirror he had found one day while in his family’s garage. He was looking for tools. For what, he wasn't exactly sure, but he knew it was for something. Things like this usually ended up in his drawings. It all came out through art. Whether it came out in song or a pencil to a paper, it came. He reached into his back pocket and pulled his fingers around it. It cut into his palm for sure, but he didn't feel a thing. Not a single twinge of pain. He pulled it out, walked silently over to Miles. “What is this? A little toy you got for your birthday?” he started laughing. “You're right, I am smart,” he said shadily and looked up at him. “Smart enough to get away with this.” he plunged the piece of glass into his stomach. Miles took in a heaving gasp and let out a small shriek. Raymon and Ru remained in their spots beside Miles and went pale. Miles sank to his knees and felt the blade pull out of his stomach, and cut into his back. Jack went again, and again, and again, until Miles went entirely silent. No teachers were around. They disappeared. No other children noticed. They were under some sort of hypnosis. Jack kicked him over onto his back and stared into his eyes from above. An inky black blood substance came pouring out from Miles’s mouth and nostrils. He was shaking uncontrollably on the ground. The shaking stopped, he went limp, then closed his eyes. Jack stood there silently on the playground. The cuts on his own hand were significant, but they weren't enough to sever his hand off. Blood dripped onto the playground mulch, then dried and congealed.

My POV

I parked the car in the parking lot in front of the school and got out. Jack was coming out of the school building, walking slowly towards the car now. He opened up the back door and stepped in, buckled his seatbelt, and placed his book bag on the seat beside him. “Have a good day?” I asked. Jack was looking out the window. “Sure.” he replied and sighed. “Are you sure?” he shrugged and looked down at his lap. “Okay,” I started the car up and drove home. His father was still not home yet. “I wonder what he could be doing.” I whispered to myself and got out of the car. “Goldfish and apple juice is for today’s snack.” “Sure, mom.” he said gloomily and pulled his bag out of the car with him. I decided to text him to see what was going on. “Hey, u haven't been back in a while, and i was wondering if u were okay.” I sent. No reply. Well of course there wasn't a reply, I just sent it two seconds ago! Stop getting anxious. I walked into the house with Jack and found my coffee brewed. I poured it into a mug and mixed it up with a spoon and sugar and milk. I sat down at the table with Jack and watched him eat his snack. That night, I tiptoed into the basement to grab a few ingredients for that night’s dinner. I flicked on the light and noticed that there was a body laying limp in the corner. It- it was Jack’s father. I let out a shriek and stumbled onto the staircase. “Daddy didn't do what I told him to,” I heard Jack’s solemn and hushed voice come from under the stairs. He crawled out and slowly got to his feet. “Jack-” Jack reached up and placed a hand on my arm. “So I put an end to his metronome. Tik, tok, tik tok, until his time stopped.” I stepped away from him and backed into a shelf of canned foods. “What’s wrong mommy?” he asked. “Won't you always love me? No matter what I do?”