The Eleventh Hour
“Open your eyes” she said. Her voice broke his reverie and brought him crashing back to reality. He looked at her, so innocent, so pretty. Little did she know what the future had in store for her. But he knew. He felt powerful, just the thought gave his libido a jolt. He had to go ahead with it. There was no turning back. He watched her as she gracefully moved around the house, cleaning up as usual. They had met exactly three months ago at a singles bar. He had gone looking for the perfect victim and when he saw her, he knew she was the one. And now three months later, she said she loved him that made him smile because it didn’t matter. He needed her to orchestrate the perfect crime. He had always been ready but he didn’t know why he’d waited so long. He bit his lip cursing himself for wasting all the earlier chances.
She seemed puzzled, maybe a little scared. He had that effect on her. She knew she had not figured him out yet but she wasn’t going to wait anymore. No matter what he said, she knew he loved her. She felt something different about him today. He looked like he was in pain, a conflict with himself. She wished she could help him knowing fully well that he would never ask her. He reminded her of her father. She hated him.
He got up, it was time. He slowly crept up to her, she turned towards him smiling. Her lips were moving but he could not hear what she spoke. He picked up the knife from the kitchen counter. Her hair, her beautiful face, he would have it all, forever.
She shot three rounds of her pistol into his chest. He slumped to the floor. It was less gory than last time. Her eleventh kill. She smiled, she was no longer a victim.
She seemed puzzled, maybe a little scared. He had that effect on her. She knew she had not figured him out yet but she wasn’t going to wait anymore. No matter what he said, she knew he loved her. She felt something different about him today. He looked like he was in pain, a conflict with himself. She wished she could help him knowing fully well that he would never ask her. He reminded her of her father. She hated him.
He got up, it was time. He slowly crept up to her, she turned towards him smiling. Her lips were moving but he could not hear what she spoke. He picked up the knife from the kitchen counter. Her hair, her beautiful face, he would have it all, forever.
She shot three rounds of her pistol into his chest. He slumped to the floor. It was less gory than last time. Her eleventh kill. She smiled, she was no longer a victim.
