I guess I was right about our kids being better off without me. I can still hear them laughing even after I’ve killed them.
“I have to stop her,” I thought as my fingers closed on the handle of the kitchen knife and I started walking towards my sleeping parents’ room. And yet no matter how hard I tried, my body could only listen to the shrilling voice of its’ murderous new owner.
I ain’t never killed a man who wasn’t in need of the killin’.
That said, I figure I only got just abut this one job left.
She pulled the trigger over and over while shouting every swear word she knew at the Garrity boys.
Barbara ran out of targets before she ran out of bullets and the pistol fell eerily silent in her trembling hands.
They’ll never find the bodies. And I certainly won’t be hungry for a while.
Finally, hours later, when I was able to touch the soft white skin of her beautiful cheek, I felt dead eyes searching me with questions. I had loved her completely but found myself holding her lifeless body by the neck wondering who had written the words on the mirror.
Mum screamed, “if in doubt, kill them!”. I killed her this morning, there was no doubt.
Gloved hands tightened around his windpipe and red darkness flooded his vision. Then came the whisper, warm against his ear, “there was no need to give my stories only one star.”
They gave me the wrong package when I left the cleaners.
I only realized after I’d opened it up to find my picture and a hit sheet with my name and home address.
I offered her the mushroom soup as I did each night at the same time (apart from Sundays) and she ate it with great satisfaction before slumping to the floor. The crowd called out “encore”.
Sometimes I go to the roof if my building with a sniper rifle and target people. That’s enough for me . . . for now.
Pieces of her ended up in the fridge. Inside the freezer, her lifeless eyes stare coldly at her heart— blaming it for her shortcomings.
It was Jim’s idea to hill her. It was me what had to do it, though.
For her final act, Maria pulls a rabbit out of her hat. The rabbit explodes—killing everyone in the venue.
She stroked her fingers though his hair and stared lovingly into his eyes before letting out a short, light sigh and falling asleep. He pulled the knife out, wiped it, and left.
Introverted Ida happily poured acid in her ears.
Helpfully, Bob learned to sign.
She sat in the corner of the coffee shop, hands tightly wrapped around a hot, skinny latte. She wondered how long it would take them to find his body.
No seriously, this isn’t a story. Your not living through the night.
The basement was full of killers: Andy with his customized spiked brass knuckles; Victor gripping his trust machete; Evan cradling his whipping chain; Sam gripping a duo of rusty butcher knives; Pat with his bear mace in hand. My God, Denny thought as he descended into the basement, this is the day our fantasy football threats come nightmarishly true.
“What happened to the construction workers?” she asked. “They were decapitated by the barber’s scissors,” he replied.