I had always imagined blazing hot flames, whips and chains, and one hundred tons of pure, physical pain. But if I had known that hell was going to consist of watching over and over again the thing I did to you… well, this is far worse than the punishment I had imagined – and there’s no way to go back.
“You an advocate of slow torture?” Carol asked her son when she saw what was sitting in the refrigerator. “Next time you wanna play murderer why don’t you just get it over quick – stick the ice cream in the oven and blast the heat.”
I took little satisfaction in watching the convicted murderer trail behind the guards as they led him away in handcuffs after being charged guilty and sentenced to life in prison, as there was nothing that could comfort the tragedy of my husband’s death, and there was nothing that could take away that painful familiarity in the monster’s eyes. I remember when he first blinked open those shiny little marble eyes to me and the world and my husband had looked at him real proud the way fathers do when they first realize their baby’s potential – a quarterback for the Eagles, a wealthy doctor or lawyer, the President; the possibilities were infinitely immense! – but alas, what had happened to this baby I had cradled in my arms thirty-five long years ago?
Claire sobbed hysterically while she watched Tom’s gruesome demise.
The chainsaw ceased its whirl, Tom became still, and shortly thereafter the police arrived.
Tom’s body went limp and he collapsed onto the floor on top of his spinning chainsaw.
A torrent of blood gushed from his form while he was painfully cut in half by the movement of his own weapon.
Tom blinked rapidly with a cough as blood dripped from his face before he raised the chainsaw in his hand and ran across the room in Claire’s direction with a loud roar.
Claire sidestepped Tom’s clumsy advance and she fell to the floor behind him before she raised her blade and rammed the edge of the weapon deep into the center of his spine.
Claire dropped her bag and held up her weapon for both Tom and Jill to see. She rushed to Jill and hacked away at the screaming young woman with the razor sharp edge of her shiny brand new machete.
The Baroness sighed, washing her hands in the opalescent ivory wash basin. “Now look what you’ve done, gone and made me get my hands all dirty, there’s a naughty pet,” she said, as red streaked on the white.
John and Suzie were the last surviving heirs to their father’s fortune. At dinner John poisoned Suzie who poisoned John.
Last night he caught her with another man. This morning he’s watering a new garden.
When you join the club look closely at all the current members.
One day one of them will try to kill you.
The jump rope lay bloodied where young Lucy had played before Lady Murphy run amok down the street with her scythe. Damned aristocracy.
When you said “attention everyone” I thought for a second you would actually say something interesting.
Like about how the guy leaving was a horrible person to work with, an insufferable bore and many of us there would happily kill him if we thought we could get away with it.
She complained of a bad day at work again.
I made her a hot cup of chamomile tea with a sprinkle of rat poison – that should take care of the problem.
Angela was consumed with fear each time her husband left the house thanks to the increase in crime in her neighborhood so she secretly bought a gun to protect herself. One morning the security alarm went off so Angela ran down the stairs and shot the shadowy figure that was trespassing; Angela turned on the light only to find her husband lying in a pool of blood holding a bouquet of roses.
When I was a child, hide-and-seek was my favourite game: I relished the thrill of being chased, and evading capture.
I killed him to keep that thrill alive, now the police are “it.”
I had a nightmare where I had killed my wife and was on the run. It’s been 3 years and I still haven’t woken up.
I didn’t know I was a twin until I was sixteen.
It was the same day I was accused of murder.
A small smile played on his lips as he thought back to the moment he had taken her life and how it filled him with utter satisfaction to press his thumbs deep into her throat as she tried to cry out and how with each breath wasted on cries for help he would press his fingers tighter in a cold calculating squeeze until finally her body went lifeless filling him with the power of her death. His smile faded as he snapped out of his memories upon hearing the metal bars of his cage slide shut confining him for the rest of his natural life or until they decided if he was worthy of the needle.
Angels sing their welcome and a golden shaft of light appears as I stare at my killer standing over my body which is sprawled on the floor, blood spatter against the wall in a grotesque portrait. The light pulses allowing me to choose forgiveness or revenge.