Xavier was infernally weary of his mother. She held the family purse strings closely. He was still driving his 2015 Audi R8 Spyder and she thought it was fine. She wanted him to take fewer vacations. A 39-year-old should stop mountain climbing and start giving her grandchildren.
He needed the old bat off the Board of Directors so he could take control. He’d tried to get her to step down, but she refused. It was pure luck that she began taking a new medication, Xarelto.* He would try surreptitiously doubling her dose and perhaps she would fall and bleed out. Accidentally.
My theme this year is 100 word fiction (So, no, don’t count this line!) *Xarelto is a newer blood thinner for which there is not currently an antidote. I don’t really know if you’d die of internal bleeding from a fall if your dose was doubled.
Trace had abruptly pulled his taxi over after seeing a young woman stumble off the curb and fall. It was dark, so dark that he couldn’t see if she was bleeding, could only tell from her silhouette that it was even a woman.
As he jumped out to help, he thought he heard someone running away. Dialing 911, Trace crouched down to use the flashlight on his phone, just as her eyes opened and she started screaming. “What is your emergency?” came the sharp voice of the operator. “I need an ambulance –”
The girl looked terrified. “Help, he’s trying to kill me!”
My theme this year is 100 word fiction. (So, no, don’t count this line.) This is a continuation of D is for Darkness, which you can find here.
Adam Mitchum sat in an uncomfortably small, warm room at the Jackson County Jail. Detective Townsend said he’d just be a minute, but it seemed like an hour. He finally reappeared with the promised cup of water.
“Talked to your wife already, Mitchum. Says she was asleep when you left, can’t say for sure what time it was. Thought the garage door opened real early, like 4 a.m.”
Lying bitch, Adam thought. “She’s — mistaken. I made coffee and left the house about six. Anyway, the cameras in the school vestibule will show what time I got there.”
“Nope, they’d been disabled.”
My theme this year is 100 word fiction. (So no, don’t count this line.) This is a continuation of A is for Apple, which you can read here.
Gwendolyn had never even held a hacksaw, but she thought her lying, cheating, mean as a snake, waste of human flesh husband had one in the garage. She needed him in smaller pieces to fit inside the big, black trash bags now that her iron skillet to the back of his head had worked. He was good and dead and getting stiffer by the minute.
Thank goodness she’d had the presence of mind to whack him in the kitchen so the gruesome blood and brain matter would clean up off the linoleum rather than soaking into the gray bedroom carpet.
My theme this year is 100 word fiction. (So, no, don’t count this line!)
The party had been winding down anyway and the flirty blonde in the short black dress suggested her place, so she and Mike were grabbing their coats from the back bedroom when they heard the sounds of glass breaking and people shouting. Then the lights went out. The blonde had opened her mouth but before she could start shrieking he’d pulled her close and shoved her face into his chest to try to muffle a scream. She’d shoved him away hard like she was afraid and he felt her run past him in the darkness as he slipped and now he wasn’t even sure where she was…
What the hell? Mike could feel the toe of his boot hit something as he stumbled in the darkness to find the light switch. God dammit but his head hurt. He must have hit the back of his head against the footboard of the bed as he fell. Christ, he hadn’t meant to scare the girl, he just figured if a fight had broken out or something they could just stay in the bedroom till everybody settled down. He’d only been in Jim and Sara’s apartment a few times so he wasn’t sure he was remembering right, but, yeah, there was the switch to the right of the door.
As the light clicked on, he looked out into the living room and saw splatters of red everywhere, like a paint can had flown from someone’s hand and liquid curved up into the air in slow motion then fell like rain drops in a mesmerizing pattern. Looking more closely, he realized the red was too thin, too dark, had a coppery smell — good Lord, it was blood. Blood everywhere.
Squinting against the bright light, he could make out the pale, shocked faces of Jim and his wife, Sara, and another guy he remembered from the party, Leo maybe — no, Logan, somebody who worked with Jim at the trucking company. They were all staring at him in horror. Then Sara started screaming and screaming and he looked down and there was the blonde in the short black dress, glossy red lips and blue eyes open wide as blood spurted from the slash across her neck and soaked into the light gray carpet…
I mentioned that I was interested in writing a scene like this just for fun and Matthew from Twisted Roads of Madness suggested a scenario of a body on the floor and four people and blood everywhere! What do you think?