Writing game: the story

The seven words: By whom he had a single son.

The short short 'story' that came out of that:
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He went into the room and looked at the fat lady laying on the floor. There was blood and guts everywhere. Bits of torn skin matted the walls and ceiling. It was not a pretty sight. She had once been a beauty – even now you could tell that she had a certain something about her. Her fiery red hair was tangled and bloody, but you could clearly that tall it had a special color, it was something you would have noticed. Her fair skin, even now torn and mutilated, looked spectacular. She was like a ghost in a storybook, killed for obvious reason like a love triangle. Had she not been made into this poor excuse of a corpse she could, in her prime, have been a nymph seducing various men, making them give up their lives. But this was not the case now. Now she was nothing more than a corpse – and she deserved to be so. She had brought this on herself, her fiery hair and her fair skin. There lay the woman, by whom he had a single son… and in the corner was his son, covered in blood, clinging to the knife.

Here I chose the sentence: There was blood and guts everywhere.
And out of that came:

Looking out over the forest and seeing nothing but a clear sky filled with stars and enjoying the fresh smell of pines and lakes. It was truly an amazing time. He lit his cigarette and enjoyed the silence, thinking of his next project. Oregon. He was going to Oregon. By doing one state at the time no one would notice or suspect him. And once he was done he would do it all again. One state at the time. Finishing his cigarette, putting it out and saving it in his pocket, he walked slowly towards the small lake near his tent. There was blood and guts everywhere. And he was still covered in both. After disposing the broken, bloody limbs into the hole he had dug earlier, he walked into the water and quickly washed. Camping in October up north was really not the best idea he had, had in his life. This time next year he’d be in Florida. It was all planned out. But he would miss the quiet. He got the company he needed from his victims. For a while at least, until he had to get rid of them. They deserved their fate – they were not worthy beings. Whores, druggies, thieves and the likes. The world would be a better place without them. He started packing down his tent and prepared for a long drive. Oregon, he was going to Oregon. Already he was feeling the excitement. This one was going to be a good one. Her name is Melissa, 18 years old and just recently released for having sold drugs. Yes, it would be good. She would scream as her blood would flow. And she would not take her last breath until he showed her just how much skin a human consisted of – and could live without. Yes, she would scream.