Flash Fiction: Red Candy

It’s been awhile since I’ve written something that wasn’t for freelance. Even though this particular piece was written for an assignment in my fiction writing class, it still felt good to write something for pleasure (not purely, but close). The fact that I did this over an hour also felt somewhat nice. Anyways, it’s a bit… insane. So enjoy.

 

Rain.

It’s cold. Windy.

Drops on her hand.

Waiting. Quietly. Stalking.

Loud noises. A party nearby. Across the street.

She watches. Waits. Brown hair. Wavy. Green eyes. Pale skin. Soft lips. Blue dress.

Music dying. Party over. Guests leaving. Target acquired.

Famous author. Favorite author. Terrible friend.

Letters. Letters. Ignored. Burning anger.

Author’s partner. In a cab.

Perfect timing.

Time to follow. Over the street.

Heels on pavement. Clip clap, clip clap.

Head straight. Gaze forward. Doesn’t see. Doesn’t care.

Best smile. Charming voice. Alluring voice. Seductive. Can’t resist. How could he.

Take his hand. Give him whispers. Pleasing words. He hears, but doesn’t know.

Lead him aside. Private time. Alone time. He smiles. Agrees.

In an alley. It’s dirty. Dark. Cold. Wet. It’s perfect.

Feel his body. His hands move, overcome.

Waiting. Moment approaching.

His face. Buried in her neck.

See the dumpster.

Brick wall.

Take his hair. Grip tight.

Seems playful. Doesn’t realize. Doesn’t care.

Swing hard. Crack! Bone on steel. He’s dazed. Hazy.

A faint smile. This is good. Going well. He can’t stand. Struggles.

Heels off. Feet wet. Ground cold. Doesn’t matter. Kick his throat. Make him fall.

Hear him cough. Hold up his hands. Attempt to talk. Plead. She laughs.

Hair wet against her face. Laughter growing. Uncontrollable.

He speaks. Begs. Doesn’t matter. Another kick. He falls.

She bends down. Takes his head.

Throws it to the ground.

Blood.

Blood everywhere.

Blood on the ground.

Throw him again. More blood.

Spraying blood. Larger smile. Louder laughter.

Bigger splash. Can’t stop. Don’t stop. More crack. More blood. Teeth everwhere.

Blood on the ground. Blood in the water. Blood on her face.

Still. No longer moving. No longer begging.

She still smiles. She still laughs.

It’s cold. Raining. Quiet.

She stops. She looks.

She smiles.

Laughs.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s