Category: Short Stories

Under cover of night. I lurk, watching, creeping, slowly moving from the shadow of one tree to a boulder. Crickets were making a matting sound, burning in the fire of the mating season. The sounds of the night. I must avoid the dry leaves on the ground, but they are everywhere. A crunch, crunch that is sure to come, will attract unwanted attention. A knife, is it sharp enough? It doesn’t matter. 

Under cover of stars, lovers kiss, touch, lick, oblivious of the jaded one, me. They don’t know I am watching. They don’t know I can smell that rancid musk of cheap perfume Asher calls his potion number 9. Kisses and then they are lost, blind to all around them. 

Waiting, I am waiting for the perfect moment. They reach the point of no return. I take my gun and let it go. I hit my target. I hit again. They are asleep. I walk in slow motion. It does not matter if I step on the leaves. This part of the forest is only lived by the Fae that guards it, and it’s animals. I am next to them. My knife is ready. They are asleep. Perfect targets. They hurt me badly, but I am better than them. I take my darts. I should, do it. Asher dumped me right before Junior Prom. I know I can, do this, but I don’t. They must live and experience the pain I live. I must plan.

Under cover of night, under cover of starts, I wait no more. I go home to a peaceful sleep. I let two enemies live. But they will live with pain soon enough.

“The mail man is here. Go get the mail. I know there is a letter from your brother today.” Said Mathilda while she was whipping her eggs. It was little Joe’s birthday and he was sure to get a cake this year. Joe was playing in the back yard. He was only eight and had done all his chores. Pop was back in the barn fixing old John’s shoe. That horse threw his shoes every month. He was more problems than he was worth. But they had no money to replace him. They had to wait and see for the harvest.

“Grace, get the mail, Girl. I reckon I told ya once. Don’t make me call your father.” Said Martha.

“Call me for what? Luv” George came back from the barn with good old Pop and they were dirty from head to toe but they left their shoes by the door. No one was going to dirty Martha’s floor.

“Nothi’ng, the mail man just came, and I know Johnny send us a letter. That’s all.” When Grace saw her Pa, she went running to get the mail.

“Good girl, see luv, no need to worry the child just need a little motivation.” Said George kissing his wife. The family stood together but it was dry times, hard times, sad times, dead times. Many young men gone, too many to be counted. Families waiting, for the return of their love one. The mail man became a beacon of hope. Will he bring a letter from a far away land? Will he have a post card with a few words written in the back. Carly came running back. She only had the Sears Catalog and a letter from the bank, and they knew what the bank wanted.

There was a car driving in the direction of the farm. But it was far away, in the distance, but it drove steady closer and closer. Until it reached the farm. The farm house was like any two floor old farm house in southern Mississippi. They had a picket fence and the mail box was next to the fence door. Martha kept busy making her cake, there was no latter today, but there was sure to be one tomorrow. Johnny was a good boy and he promised he was going to write, and he had sent a letter every month thus far.

George and Poppa were washing their hands when in front of the house the faraway car stopped. The Kitchen looked to the back of the house. No one noticed when the men stepped out of the car. The men straighten their clothing and positioned their hats correctly. They had to look pristine in this official business. They knocked on the door and waited. They had a paper in their hand. This was an important paper, an official paper. 

“Grace go open the door luv.” Said George from the Kitchen. The Girl opened the door and she found two tall men looking down at her.

“We are looking for Mr. George Kinley. Is he or the Mrs’s here?” said one of the men in a very serious voice. 

“Pa, there are some men here to see you.” Said Grace.

George stepped out of the kitchen to the living room of his home to see the men. Pop followed him. All stood quiet. All was too quiet. Martha stopped what she was doing. Suddenly a cold sweat came to her forehead and it went down her back. It could not be. That so familiar fear that was always there nagging at her heart. She felt it. The devil had taken her heart out of her chest and was squeezing all the blood out. She did not want to step out the kitchen, but she had to. She cleaned her hands walked to the hall down to the living room and she saw the men. A Captain in the Army handing her husband a letter. They received the one letter no parent would ever want to receive. The one message that changes the lives of an entire family. 

Martha opened her mouth in a silent cry. Nothing came out of her mouth. A scream that stood in her chest for five ten seconds. But when George touched her, realization came to her. All the emotions of a mother from the moment the midwife had placed Johnny in her arms the love of a mother to a child that shared her soul for nine months was infinite. That love came out pouring out in a sudden scream and tears. Martha turn around and climbing haltingly up the stairs while wailing, she then prayed no other mother would have to go through this torment. She prayed for the end of the war. But mostly She prayed for her own life, because she could not know how she was going to be able to live without that piece of her soul that she had just lost.

Ding, dong, ding, dong, tick, tick, tick, the grandfather’s clock on the first floor took cadence. In the night, sounds get magnified and all could be heard even from this desolated, coldness. The darkness and the hiss of the machine near me. 

She left the door open. It is a test. I should try and run. I should get out. I should move towards the door and leave this place. So many should, that I must think it again. But she might be on top of the stairs. I heard her walk up, leave the door open, and walk away. But what if she is hiding? 

The sounds was loud, my heart 

The night only made bright by the moon light that enters through my window. A mouse is rummaging or moving in a corner. I can see it. She released my arms before she left, and she said nothing. She looked at me. I could see sweat on the forehead and over her lip. Her hands were trembling, and she kept looking back. Unlike the many times she came to me with my daily water and pieces of meat, this time she was dressed. She was alone. He wasn’t with her. He comes, counts and she let go of the incessant belt. He counts and she swings the belt. She is done and he slaps my face. I must cry. Tears and the get dry on my face.

Tonight, she came alone. She had no shoes; her hair was loose. 

The sound became louder, the ring in my ears.

Ding, dong, ding, dong, another hour and I can’t move, But I must move. What if he is up there waiting for me? I must move. She released my arms and legs so I must move. If he is waiting with her and the belt, at least I would see the clock that makes that demonic sound that keeps telling me the time. More sounds, a crick and a crack, it’s the wind and a branch. My hands are shaking, my body is shaking. I am going to get it. He is going to let me feel his wrath. 

The sound turned at its loudest, I could only hear my thoughts.

No, I must know, if he is out there. I left my corner. I left that putrid smell of shit and urine, of mold and old books. I am walking on trembling legs caked with blood of the many times they visited me with the belt. I am taking one step and the another.

Thum, thump; thum, thump, I walk at the rhythm of the thump. Darkness, a kitchen, and another opened door. She is sitting on a chair. Thum, thump; thum, thump; mush faster. Ding, dong, ding, dong, another hour. I want to see that damn clock. The sounds of steps from stairs above. 

“Bitch, where are you?”

Her eyes wide opened, the light from the moon shining through a window. I can see her red hair. Tears like a veil flowing, she smiled at me, and points at the door.

“Run, ” she said in a voice so horsed it broke my heart. Steps coming down the stairs. Splak, a base fell on the floor. Steps getting closer.

“Run, now” she said.

I turned, ran out. The door closed behind me. I ran and ran. Thum, Thump; Thum, Thump, I heard the sound of my heart. I ran and the moon followed me. I ran through a corn field. Slash, slash, the corned moved with me. I ran until I found a road and I ran some more. I fell on the road. A car, lights blinded me. He found me. No! 

“You are so stupid Brandon, keep reading comic books and your brain is going to turn into mush.” Conny looked at her twin as if he was a dung bug.
“Leave him alone. He is entitled to believe whatever he wants. I saw this dude online that he believes he is an elf.” Said Elsa. Lisa and Conny looked at Elsa sideways.
“Laugh out loud, no one has super powers.” Said Lisa.
“Well I do” said Brandon. He looked at his sister and friends from the rim of his glasses. He was tired of them two always making fun of him. Only Elsa was nice to him.
“So, what is your super power? Please tell, dear brother of mine. I have asked many times and you never say.” Said Conny.
“Yeah, Brandon, what is your super power?” Asked Lisa sarcastically. 
The twins and friends were arguing in the living room and their mother was cooking spaghetti dinner. 
“Leave your brother alone, Cornelia Marie Smith. Remember what I told you.” Shouted their mother from the kitchen. 
“I can’t show you. My Super Power is very dangerous. It will destroy and consumed. You will never understand.” Brandon hid his face behind his comic book.
“Ha, ha, ha, ha. You are crazy. Destroy and consume my ass, Brandon you lost your mind.” Said Conny. Lisa and Conny were laughing at Brandon. 
“Come on show us some destruction. This is the moment of truth. Show us your Super Power. Show us and we will believe you.” Said Lisa. Elsa stood up cross her arms. She looked at him and gave him a smile. She liked Brandon, she had told him, but he had kept it to himself. 
“Brandon you don’t have to do anything. You two must stop your bullying him.” Brandon noticed Elsa’s blond hair shining under the hallway light and his heart skipped a beat. 
“Okay, I will show you.” Brandon snapped his fingers and the entire world was set on fire. The house, and everything in it was consumed in flames except Brandon, Elsa and his mother that was cooking in the kitchen. They were in a bubble of blue light spare from the chaos that was the inferno.
“Brandon, what did you do?” Asked Elsa.
“He used his Super Power. That stupid Conny, had to push him to the edge.” said Brandon’s mother from what was left of the house. “I told them My Super Power was dangerous.” said Brandon