Charlie and the....Woah!

“Charlie!  Time to get your lazy butt outa bed and get dressed!”

Mum’s voice screamed up the stairs and somehow infiltrated under my doona, two pillows and through my long hair.  Shit she can really bum a dude out.

“Crap!” I throw the pillow covering my head across the room with my eyes shut and hear it bounce off the wardrobe door as it shudders a little and bumps closed, quietly clicking onto the magnets.

Hang on… I didn’t have a wardrobe door like that!  My sister did!  My wardrobe door was a large rolling door!  I sat up and looked around: “What the f…” I didn’t get to finish the profanity that was coming out of my mouth when I heard a shattering scream split the air – yep, my sister.  I climbed over the end of the pretty white, four-poster bed and stared at my face – um her face, our face, um – in the mirror.

“Darren!” her voice was at the door, “Open this immediately.”

I walked to it, unlocked it – why did she lock everything? – and let her in, “Get in here.  And stop screaming.”  I watched as a very feminine version of me sat on the edge of the bed, crossed his legs and began playing with his hair, “Jesus, man, you’re such a girl.”

“Screw you… have you seen yourself?”

“Yeah, I have.” I nodded sitting next to her… him, um… “What  do we do now?”

“You and your friggin’ magicks.”

“Hey, I didn’t do this.”

The door opened and Mum was standing there, “No, he didn’t, but your father and I did.”

“What?” I stood and began to pace, “Mum!  I look stupid.”

“Correction, you feel stupid… you and your sister have changed places and this will stay like this for a week until you both learn to respect each other.” She looked from me to my sister, Charlie, “Now, both of you get ready for school!”

We exchanged horrified expressions:  “School?”

We caught the bus halfway to school, felt as though everyone was staring at us and then got off at the mall where we walked to the nearest library and found out that what Mum and Dad did wasn’t in any book there – of course! – so we had to look around home to see which of my spell books Mum had gotten her hands on.

“What do you mean, you might know which one it is?” Charlie hissed.

“I mean, I might know which one it is.” I replied, “And I’ll have to search my book collection when we get home.  Come on, we have another kilometre to go until we get home… and school will be over by that time.”

She sighed, “I hate this.”

“You’re not the only one.” I pulled at the bra strap on my shoulder, “How do you put up with bras?”

She smiled, “It’s actually not too bad to not have to put one on for once.”

“Shut up.”

We searched my bedroom for the spell book I was looking for, but our folks had taken it.  Searching the house wasn’t on the cards as our Mum was a Clean Queen from way back – she’d know if we had been snooping for anything. 

We sat in my original bedroom with music going and I talked, “Okay, I know Gary might have an idea of the spell.  He was weird enough to copy the whole book out when I bought it… now I know why he did.”

“Such a freak.”  She muttered.

“Shut up.” I said grabbing my mobile and texting him.

Gary walked into my room half an hour later with Mum smiling behind him, “Gary’s here.” She looked at me, “Charlie, help me with dinner, okay?”

“But, Mum…”

“Now.” The smile fell off her face as glanced at my ‘sister’ and Gary.  I left with Mum and wondered what was going to go on while I was gone.  I helped Mum set the table, feed the dog, put out the rubbish (which I didn’t know my sister did), clean up the lounge room (twice, because Mum wasn’t happy with the first attempt) and then I cut up the veggies and put them into a bowl of water to be ready to roast.  Then, Mum told me to ‘ready the chook’… I’ve never seen her do this! But I did as I was told and readied the chicken – and then, I scrubbed my hands until they were raw but they still smelled like dead chicken and butter!

Gary left with a worried look at his face.  He knew what was going on as he dragged me outside, “Dude, your…” he looked me up and down, “…sister, told me what was going on.  You have my absolute trust I won’t tell anyone.”

“Are you sure?” I pushed a curl behind my ear.

He spotted that reflex and blinked, “Yeah… My Aunt and Uncle did this to my cousins last year… it was shit!  It was embarrassing.  I didn’t want to tell you; and now I won’t tell anyone about this.”

“The spell, though.”

He smiled, “She has it.”

“Thank you.”

That night, after dinner, Charlie and me cast the reversal spell.  I know we did it correctly, but we had to wait until sunrise to see if it took effect.

I opened my eyes the next morning and I was still in my sister’s room.  But it felt different.  I wasn’t mad about this for some reason as I sat up and looked in the mirror; not until I looked in the mirror and realised I was still my sister.

A tap at the door sounded and I opened it to see my sister looking at me… my blond-haired, blue-eyed sister… looking at me!

“I was going to say it worked, but it doesn’t look like it.” She said.

“Get in here.” I opened the door wider and she rushed in and I slammed it shut, “We did it right!”

“Yes.”

“What went wrong?”

“Charlie?  Darren?  You both in there?” Mum asked tapping her nails on the door.

I opened it, “What did you do?”

“You didn’t wait the week out, and used a reversal spell.  It reverses the effects on your sister… but it makes the spell permanent on you.” she grinned, “Charlie, you’ve always wanted a sister… haven’t you?”

The Miraculous Archive

Chuck gave us a list of 10 titles to work with... I chose above title and below is what I did with it! Enjoy!

It was impossible.  

Totally and completely.

How as she to fix this problem was beyond her?  

Tess opened her PO Box and sighed at the envelopes waiting for her inside the tiny dark hole, knowing they were bills she had to pay.

She hated her life.

There wasn’t enough money in her life.

By the time she paid her rent, bought her food and paid her bills, she didn’t have any money left to put away for savings… and she was working full-time.

Pulling the envelopes out she found they had been hiding a parcel pick-up card.  It was red – this meant, it needed her signature – so she locked up the little door, pulled the key out and made her way inside the place.

It was starting to rain when Tess got home with the large box in her car.  As she pulled into her car port, she looked over at the opened parcel in the passenger seat and wondered exactly what was in that box, and who in the hell had sent it to her.  So, instead of waiting for the rain to get heavier, she got out of the car, after grabbing her stuff and went inside where  - within minutes – the light rain turned into a downpour.

“Well, at least this was a good thing for once today.” She groaned turning on the kettle. 

Once she made herself some coffee, she sat down, paid the bills (and was once again broke for the month) and then looked at the unexpected parcel.  She inspected the wooden box, wondering how to open it, when the lid slid off and a large blue book was exposed.  It wasn’t much to look at – in fact she thought it was kind of ugly – but it was something of a curiosity as she’d never seen anything like it before.  There was a note inside the box:

‘Tess, you don’t know me very well.  We met at a bookstore a few years ago and you said you were curious about the book I was reading at the counter here in San Fran.  Well, I had promised you this book once I was finished with it… now my time has come to hand it onto you. 

If it’s arrived at your postal address, this means I have passed away.  I was suffering from the Big C when you met me but it caught up with me.  This book is called The Miraculous Archive.  It doesn’t look much, but it’s lots of fun – just don’t let it out of your sight!  In the wrong hands it’s dangerous!  
Your friend in this life and the next, Michael.’

She remembered now!  Wow!  It had been around five years since her vacation in the USA, and he remember her?  Well, that’s something!  She hadn’t remembered Michael too well, but then, she had only visited his store in San Francisco once on a stinking hot day to find a notebook to use as a diary and he tossed a pen for a good price and they chatted about this book for around ten minutes and that was it!  She never went back… and he did promise to hand it onto her when he was finished with it.

Tess put down the note and pulled the book from the box carefully.  It felt heavier than it looked as she sat down in her favourite easy-chair, put her coffee on the little stand by the arm and opened it to the first page:  but it was blank.  She turned to the next pag and it was blank as well!  Flipping the pages between her thumb and first finger, she found they were all blank! She just didn’t get how this was going to be an archive if there was shit all in it!  Tess rose from the chair, walked to her tall bookcase across the living room and slotted in next to her other books she considered useless – yep, her textbooks from high school.

Weeks passed and Tess’s life moved on.  She found herself a better job with better pay and for the first time in a long time, she could finally start saving up for something.  She opened a bank account and started saving up for a holiday overseas – her next big thing on her bucket list.

She didn’t take much notice of the big blue book on her shelf as it was empty.  And so, when she scored her first two weeks’  holidays, she found she wanted to do nothing more than give her home a good clean out – and do up her garden too.  She wanted to make her place feel good – as good as she needed to feel when she arrived home each day. Halfway through the dusting, she looked at The Miraculous Archive and found it had a newer look to it – a much cleaner appearance than it did than when she first collected it from the post office.  So, she put down her dusting cloth and pulled it off the shelf and sure enough, the book looked, felt and smelled as though she had just bought it brand new! 

“Woah… this is…” she didn’t want to say ‘miraculous’ in case she was going to jinx it.  On opening the cover, the pages were gorgeously new with brilliant gold-trimmed edges!  She wondered how this book became so … so, “Now what do I do?”

As though it had heard her question, the book gave her the answers: ‘Do with me what you wish… I am The Miraculous Archive, a living entity of information.  Ask me a question about anything and I will endeavour to give you an answer.’

Slapping the book shut, Tess dropped it to the floor!  It landed with a loud thud as she took a step back.  And stared at it with tears filling her eyes, she realised her life could be a success if she asked this book the right questions… 

but could it also lie to her?

He's My Superman

It’s been a busy night for him.

And I sleep in my bed knowing he’s running around the city and the world keeping everything safe for us all.

Everyone loves him for saving their lives, for being there for when they need him, at the just the right time.

But what you don’t know, it can be lonely when I roll over and he’s not there for me to snuggle up to; when he’s off helping you people.  Yeah, he’s so caring and wonderful and has the most intense hearing I’ve ever come across.

But that can be a curse too.

I can’t plan a surprise party for him because he’ll hear me whispering about it to our friends.  Or he’ll see the note – and what’s written on it – when I hand it to our friends from across the room or across the street with that super sight he’s got.  Great stuff, but really that’s just cheating!  But I do love him.  There’s led, but you see lining envelopes with that stuff is not only expensive, but a damned nuisance for the postal system and courier services… so I’m better off telling him what’s going on and not keeping too many secrets from him.

Besides, he’s the most gentle man I’ve ever come across… but when I first met him, he easily destroyed the remote to my television by pressing the buttons on it.  No worries!  He managed to race out and replace it – and I mean race! – he was back in a gust of wind with a better remote with fresh batteries and it was ready to go before I could mourn the loss of the last one.

Dating a man like Superman has its perks… he’s well built, can move anything around the house (I mean moving house is a synch!  The removal guys sit back and just watch grinning that they don’t have to do any work and let Clark have all the fun).  Then, there’s gardening… he loves to uproot a tree once in a while… and planting one is just as much fun.  And yeah, we have the most gorgeous garden and there’s wasn’t a bulldozer in sight!

However there is a few worries on my mind about him – as there is with every woman who is in love with a super hero.  I constantly wonder if he will ever retire.  And will he look as distinguished as I think he will as he ages?  I hope so… I really do.

I often remember fondly the first time I saw him at Smallville High School.  He was on the school newspaper there, covering the sports pages.  The coach of the football team wanted him to try out, but Clark didn’t – he wasn’t interest, well, so he said.  We worked on a few articles together while the cheerleaders swooned over him and then I didn’t see much of him after that.

The next time I saw him was in university.  We had a few classes together and even then, we didn’t hang around with each other.  He did his thing – and it was then I noticed he did his vanishing act once in a while; and missed out big on the fun occasions – but then, I didn’t really have an interest in him.  By this time, his folks were getting on, and he was visiting them a lot… but then his Dad died.  This really hit him hard; and it was the first time I found out his was adopted.

I was working in Metropolis at The Globe when he showed up and started working for Mr White; and he remembered me!  Jeez, it had been about five years since we last saw each other, how did he remember me was beyond me, but then, he and I got together at the Christmas Party.  We’re both not really into crowds and so I found him outside in the freezing cold and we got talking, finding we had a lot in common.  Clark and I ended up chatting all night just inside the door, in a little corner, just hidden away enough to be private, and yet in view of everyone for nobody to start up gossip.

It’s been two years now, and we’re happy to live together, love together and enjoy each other’s lives.  I know his complete history and have been to his secret places on Earth – the place he built in the coldest area of the north – and he knows all my secrets too.

We’re happy.

I roll over as the moon has woken me up, to find his warm body is back in bed with me.  The safety of his arms cocoon me and I love his smell – but I do sense smoke in his hair of where he’s been, “Mmmm, hello there.” I whisper.

“Well hello there.” His voice mumbles close to my ear, “I missed you.” His mouth finds mine, “I tried to shower out the smell, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.  You’re back safe with me, that’s all that matters.” I look into his eyes and see the soft silver there that nobody sees because they don’t get close enough to see it in the dark; otherwise to everyone else those eyes are an ocean blue.

Yes, he’s my Superman…

But then, he’s everyone’s Superman too…

He’s mine in a much different way. 

Post Mortem

Chuck has us using Twitter - something I don't have - but I jumped on the site and used the YouAreCarrying line and it came up with some funny stuff. Mine was:  Deidrie's Necklace, A magazine, the second clue, a tourist brochure, the second contact, a maid's note.... and the below is what I did with it. 

I hated doing this kind of thing.  The crime scene was bad enough, having to work through the blood and guts of the whole thing with the forensics there along with the police and reporters just off there in the background… but I hated going through their pockets and bagging up everything in readiness for what the family needed to pick up.

But this guy had some weird stuff on him, so I decided to wait until the cops looked at it all before giving it back to the family.  I labelled it carefully and had everything ready for inspection, along with my report all e-mailed to the right people after I worked the guy over – and the cause of death didn’t take long… a gunshot wound to the head!  I mean, jeez, who didn’t see that killing him?

I noted everything carefully:

‘Deidrie’s Necklace’ – it was in a box and labelled with a card.

‘The Strand Magazine’ – something he had collected from the post office and had bought on ebay… this magazine had been out of business for yonks.

A card from the game of ‘Clue’ – it was the second clue to the first clue of the game, he had cheated on the game as I had found it in his front pocket.

A tourist brochure of San Francisco – and yet we were in Boulder.  Strange.

A contact lens box with only one contact lens in it … ah!  There’s the first one… in his left eye, “Hang on…his eyes are green, the lens’ are blue… okay…”

From his jeans pocket I pulled out a maid’s note: a shopping list on one side of paper and a list of house hold chores to do.  A few of the chores had been crossed off.

I thought this was a strange lot of things to have on a guy.  But I  bagged each item up and lined them up for the cops to look at, just in time for them to show, look at the things, take the report – with the photos and everything inside the folder – and the let me know it was time to let the stuff go back to the family.  I thought that it was over, as I pushed Mr Mullens into the locker and closed the freezer door.

Two weeks to the day later, I had another guy come in with exactly the same things on him.  The cops – as well as me – thought this was the beginnings of a copy-cat serial killer and started up a file on this, trying to piece together what these two have in common.

There was nothing.

Well, except this person was a woman – Mrs Mullens.

I put her body away and wondered if the person who did away Mr Mullens was the same person who did away with Mrs Mullens.  I really tried not to let this bother me as I closed up the Morgue and went home.

Then it hit the news, there was another murder close to my home – down the street, actually – and so I was called to take in the notes and work on the body.

I walked into the crime scene and found it was almost a duplicate of Mr Mullen’s murder… right down to where the furniture was place.

I got a shiver up my spine, “Wow.”

Sergeant Cole nodded, “Yeah, it’s a duplicate, eh?”

“Creepy.” I stepped up to the body with my booties on my feet, costume on, hair gathered up and gloves on my hands, “I’ll need to do tests for this one… they weren’t shot.”

“No.” Cole said from the front door, “Poisoned.”

Back at the morgue, I found the same lot of things on this person.  This was getting to become a regular thing as I scooped up everything, bagged it all up, photographed it all and made it ready to be seen by the police. 

Then, I noticed the maid’s note:  it was the same, but different.

Grabbing the other two murder files, I pulled out the photos of the maid’s notes and found they were the same lists but different.  On Mr Mullen’s list, three of the ten chores were crossed out – shopping, vacuuming, clean the bathroom.  On Mrs Mullen’s list, five of the ten chores were crossed out – shopping, vacuuming, clean the bathroom, make the bed, laundry.  I looked over at the new list I had and found there had been a new one added – making it eleven things on the list – but all but five things had been crossed out:  shopping, vacuuming, make the bed, dusting, laundry, ironing. 

This made me wonder, how these lists were made, who made them and how did the murder know exactly what these people did in their lives to get these things done.  I tried not to think about it, as my long day had come to an end and I packed up everything to go home.

My house was in darkness as I arrived home, I was looking forward to a nice quiet night alone to watch a bit of television and read a book.  Yes, it had been a long day.  As I walked inside the door, I found that my fuse box had gone.  So, I picked up the torch on the way through to the hallway – where my fuse box was – and switched it on.  I only caught a fleeting glimpse of the Sergeant Cole’s face as something hard and cold hit my face.

I came to on the floor.  From the position I was in, I realised I was in the same position as the others who had been murdered.  My glasses had been removed and only one contact lens had been shoved into my left eye.  All the things I had found on the other two bodies had been place on me – Deidrie’s necklace, a magazine (of some kind), a second clue from the game of ‘Cluedo’, a tourist brochure (from San Diego this time), the box with the second contact lens in it and a maid’s note… all of which had been carefully place on my person by Sergeant Cole.

My head hurt from where he had hit me, but I managed to whisper softly, “They will catch you.”

His face leaned in close, “No, honey, they won’t.”

I smiled, despite the pain of my shattered cheekbone, “But they will.  I sent all the reports, the lists, the names to your Captain with my suspicions of why they were picked.”

He sat on the floor grinning, “And what did you conclude?”

“The Mullens’ were your neighbours when you were young.  They’re Jewish; and you hated them.” I said, “You had a good reason to hate them… you loved their daughter, Deidrie.  You dated her for a while, bought her a necklace and proposed to her.  But when her folks didn’t want you in their family, you hated them with such a passion you never forgave them.  Deidrie married somebody else.”

The grin had slid off his face, “How did you know that?”

I looked at him, “Well, you see, Sergeant, you were looking only at Deidrie, weren’t you?”

“Well yes, of course.”

“You never considered that she had a little sister, did you?”

Due Date

Chuck didn't give us a prompt this week... actually it was overdue the due date... thus the name of my flash fiction this week. Enjoy.

She ran along the streets with the sheaf of paper in her hands.  It was becoming late – almost too late; but she had finished her work and had printed it out and was on her way to handing it in.

If she didn’t make it on time, there was going to be dire consequences.  Michelle wasn’t sure what those were, but from what she heard from others, when past students handed in their assignments late, they were never heard from again.

So, she had to make sure she got this in before the doors of his office were locked against the dying day of the beginning of the weekend. 

Michelle watched with a knotted stomach as the corner store closed its doors for the day, as did the fruit shop next door.  She rushed past them as the people went about their business of rolling down the large, steel grates against the darkening skies and the street lights flickered on.

She didn’t have far to go, now.

Just around the corner and along the pathway to the building on campus and then she’d be inside the place – first door on the right.  She climbed the short flight of stairs, pushed opened the large glass door (which nearly didn’t give for her) and then turned to the immediate right and …

…his door was closed!

Tears filled her eyes, “No.  Not now.” Looking down, she unfolded the assignment.  She had put so much work into this thing and she wasn’t going to let him just fail her… no, she wasn't.  Michelle raised her fist and knocked on the door.  The sound of her three knocks echoed down the empty hallway and she stood there for what seemed like an eternity before the locks turned and the door opened just enough for a small face to appear: “Hello, there.”  She said to the tiny, older woman who had answered the door, “I’m here to see, The Professor.”

“The due date had come and gone, Michelle.” The woman said, “You are too late.” She turned and closed the door.

“No!” Michelle shouted dropping her assignment on the floor and punched the door in time with what she was saying next, “I’m not too late… the sun is still setting, you old bitch!  You get your arse out here and take my assignment!”

The door opened slowly – wider this time – and older woman stared at her, “Well, aren’t you the little shit.”

Michelle didn’t really care what the woman called her, “Yes, I am.  Now, you take my assignment, because I’m not too late.  I arrived just as the sun vanished below the buildings.” She picked up the papers and shoved them into the woman’s hands, “I’m not leaving until you take them for The Professor.”

She looked down at the folded assignment.  The woman really shouldn’t have taken this off her, but she did, “Wait here.  Take a seat and just wait.” She closed the door and turned toward the fireplace, “I told you she wouldn’t leave.”

He sat forward from the large winged chair, puffing on his pipe, and looked around at her, “Give me her assignment.” She handed it to him and he ran his right hand over the front page, nodding, “Well-written… she put a huge amount of work into this – as usual.” He half-turned, “Let her in.”

The woman opened the door and looked at Michelle, “He wishes to see you.”

“Oh?” she stood and walked through the doorway and into the room where The Professor was sitting by the fire with her assignment in his hand.

“Michelle Sanders, please take a seat.” He said gesturing to the other large winged chair across from him, “Coffee, hot chocolate or tea?”

“Um… hot chocolate please.” She sat down across from him, “You’re not mad at me?”

“No.  I’m happy with your work – as usual – and how you dealt with Delta, there.  Most people get discouraged at her ways, but you don’t.” he smiled, “And I’d like to offer you an opportunity.”

Delta placed the hot chocolate on the side table by Michelle’s chair, “Thank you, Delta.  What kind of opportunity?”

He removed his glasses and looked at her, “I’m looking for a researcher and you have the guts and determination and intelligence to be mine.” He smiled, “However, I’m visually impaired and need somebody who will also stay here with me and be my eyes and ears for me… my carer.  Delta isn’t young anymore; and so you will be filling big feet.”

“Can I think about this?”

“Of course.” He smiled, “Please drink your hot chocolate… Delta makes a killer one. I love it.”

After downing the most beautiful hot chocolate she’d ever tasted, Michelle headed home.  She walked to her place to find there were police cars outside her place and her family had been worried sick about her.

Molly, her neighbour, spotted her coming home, “There she is!” and came running up to her, “Michelle!  Where have you been?”

“I met up with The Professor to hand in my assignment.  It was overdue.  He offered me a job.” She shook her head, “Why are the police here?”

“Oh, Michelle, he got to you like he did the others.” Her mother burst into tears.  Her father comforted her as all he could do was stare.

“Molly, what’s going on?” Michelle asked, “I’ve only been gone a few hours.”

The middle-aged woman shook her head as she produced a mirror from her handbag:  “Michelle, you’ve been gone longer than that… much longer.”

Michelle looked into the mirror and found the face staring back was one of a very old woman… and not just any old woman – the face staring back at her was Delta’s face!  She wondered exactly what was in that hot chocolate, and if handing in her assignment was really all that worthwhile.

Poor Little Rich Girl

My parents weren’t bad – not really.  After all, they gave me everything I ever wanted in life.

I got a top notch education.  I drove the best sports car around.  I had an unlimited amount on my credit card to use.  My Dad even got me a gun licence…but that's not why I hated them.

I hated them because they said: ‘No.’ once to me… just once, and it was for the silliest thing too. 

I wanted to get married.

Now, that’s not so bad is it?  Nah, it isn’t.  But I wanted to marry my high school sweetheart.  My folks didn’t like him at all.  According to them, he was wrong for me in every single way.

He struggled for money – he had two part time jobs; one after school and one on the weekend, so I barely saw him unless I hung out with him at the diner and we chatted during the slow moments during his shift or before his shift.

He didn’t have a sports car or a credit card, or anything to the likes that I had… no, what he had was life experience.  Richard was a lovely young man who loved me because I wasn’t rich.  He loved me for who I wasn’t to my parents.  There was something special in me he adored that I hadn’t noticed; not until he took me to the gun range and taught me to use that gun Dad bought me on my 18^th birthday; soon after I received my licence for it.

Richard said I was a natural… how cool was that?

He took me away for the weekend out into the desert where we practiced shooting at cans and bottles at a distance.

He told me that I was getting better and better each time.  I was thrilled!  Then we sat around the fire and dreamed about the places we’d go after school – after university – and how our love couldn’t die. 

Now you tell me, how could parents hate a guy like this?  A guy who was teaching me something my Dad wouldn’t teach me about something he bought me.  A guy who would never let anything bad happen to me.  A guy who cared about me – loved me, heart, body, mind and soul – and didn’t want to leave me side. 

I got to meet Richard’s parents.  They were hard-working people who lived a basic life on what my parents called ‘the wrong side of the tracks’… and yet they managed to keep a roof over their heads, paid their bills on time and food on the table.  The red meat that graced their table was amazingly fresh!  And I was invited to dinner in a minute, but Richard didn’t want me to stay; instead driving me home.

“I don’t want you to ever eat at my house.” He said as he pulled into my long, winding driveway and took his time as the action-lights blinked on all the way up along the asphalt.  Before I could ask why, he glanced at me, “Don’t ask me why, just don’t eat there.”

“Okay.” I nodded.

He pulled his pick-up around the circular driveway, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Sure.” I smiled, “Have you got the day off?”

“Yes.” He nodded, “My boss gave in to my asking for one weekend – finally.” He leaned over and kissed me, held me close, “I love you Lyndsay.”

“I love you too.”

The next morning, I heard on the news that Richard’s diner had been robbed – the owner’s remains had been found not far from his house.  I was shocked!  I wondered if what Richard had told me had something to do with why he never liked me eating at his folks’ house… really did make you wonder.  Before I wondered anymore, I received a message on my phone from Richard: ‘You heard about the diner? OMG!  I can’t believe my boss is dead! Pls meet me at the gate.’

I grabbed my pushbike and cycled down to the gate where his pick-up was waiting and he was leaning up against it, “Lyndsay.  I don’t know what to say.”

“What was that at your folks’ house?” I asked.

He looked down, “They call it venison.  It’s not.”

“Answer me.” I walked my bike to him, “Look at me and tell me the truth.”

His eyes met mine, “Lawnpig.” He frowned when I didn’t answer, “Lyndsay, my family… are…” he took in a deep breath, “They don’t eat beef or pork, their meat runs around on two legs.”

I stepped back as my bike dropped to ground, “What?”

“This is why I befriended you.” He said, “I can’t do what I need you to do… and you’ll get away with it because you’re rich.”

My gut cooled as I swallowed thickly, “You’re kidding right?”

“You’re Daddy’s Little Girl, he’d never see you doing this kind of thing; and I’ll take the blame.” He said, “After all, they’re my parents; not good ones either.” He looked at me, “And your parents aren’t any better.”

The sirens are getting louder as I sit here in the corner.  I have blood all over me.  It’s painted all over the walls, floor and spattered aross the ceiling of this house; and none of it is mine.There’s Richard’s family everywhere – all dead.  He’s here too, but I killed him as well – because he turned on me when I pulled out my gun.

I had no choice.

I had been invited over for a ‘nice visit to get to know you’.

Even Richard fell for it.  In truth, they knew his little plan to get rid of them; and I was next on their menu – so was my family.

When the police pushed the door open, I saw them walk in, but didn’t resist.  Instead, I just put the gun on the floor and began to cry.

My parents weren’t bad – not really.  After all, they gave me everything I ever wanted in life.

Vengeful Bitch

He never knew what hit him.

Not until I came along.

But really, I knocked him off his feet… spun his head around and loved him right. 

He enjoyed me for me… and I loved him from the bottom of my soul to the end of time.

That was until he cheated on me with another woman and thought I’d never know.

I did.

He smelled different.

He acted different.

He treated me … different.

Okay, it was the same, but still I noticed the small things about him that only a girlfriend would notice when her man has done something wrong… and he hopes she never picks up on it.

But I did, and what I was going to do about it was going to make him pay.

I planned a surprise for him on our first year anniversary.  I can cook gourmet… and I mean, really gourmet.  So, I tracked down his other favourite red meat… and she was still nice, fresh and on the run.  It didn’t take much to take it down.  And the police report said it was an animal attack.

One of my other friends – who is like me – helped me get rid of the dregs that I couldn’t use.  He’s a butcher; in every sense of the word, and he was more than happy to take the rest of the stuff I couldn’t use off my hands at a price. 

Hey, okay, I maxed out my credit card… but this was worth it.

Then, he arrived home and I was dressed in my sexiest lingerie with the whip and handcuffs at the ready.  He dropped his briefcase and took up the large glass of scotch I had ready in my leather-gloved hand.

“Oh, baby!”  he grinned, “I thought you had forgotten.”

“No.” I smiled, “Come here, Loverboy.”

He put his filthy mitts all over me and I almost snapped his neck right there; but then, my surprise would have been wreck.  I had to play this out properly. 

We ate dinner… well, he attacked the wonderfully hot meal I had created.  I told him I had eaten earlier (which I had… the heart her was tasty) before I put a small amount of downer in his drink and he guzzled that down.  He hit the floor harder than I expected.

The glutton.

His eyes opened to me tying him to the bedposts with my scarves.  He was naked, so was I.  He loved it when I took control like this; and I could see he was being turned on about this.  And let’s face it, I loved being in control as much as he loved me taking it.

I pulled out the body paint with some of her blood mixed into it… and the sheer smell of it make my mouth water.  I grabbed a paintbrush and smoothed some of it onto his body as he sighed watching me lick it off.  His cock twitched and moved as I placed the container on the bedside table with some of the bloody chocolate dripping down the side; my hand enclosing his sex and playing with it… he was really getting into it.

“Honey…”

“Yeah…” he groaned, his head lost in the pillows as my playing became a little rougher, and he squirmed on the bedding.

“I hope you enjoyed your meal tonight.”

“Yeah, I did.” He smiled, “Delicious.”

“Good.  Glad you enjoyed her… fully.”

“What?” his head snapped up, his eyes looked at me.  He had learned to take careful note of what I said and how I said things, “Her?”

I let go of his manhood and straddled him so he was forced to look at me.  I rested my hands on his chest, “Yes, her.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing.” A smile crept onto my face.  I observed him as he began to freak out; as he figured out that I knew about his affair, “But sweetheart, I know about her.”

Guilt flickered across his face, “And you have had her for the very last time tonight.”

“No I didn’t… I’ve been here with…” then the penny dropped.  I almost heard it hit the bottom of the very empty skull of his as his mind ticked over and he whimpered, “Oh shit, you didn’t.”

“Oh, but I did.” I nodded, “And now, you will never see her again.”
He turned an unhealthy colour, as though he was going to be sick before he be pulling against his ties, “You’re psychotic!”

“You’re unfaithful.”

“But how did you know?”

I locked eyes with him, letting him see what most men don’t, “I’m not completely human.”

For a long minute, he simply just stared into my eyes.  They were a lovely colour of green one moment, then turned a bright amber the next, “I’m part human, part wolf.  So, when you came home all freshly showered saying you had been to a new gym to try it out, I could still smell her perfume on you.”  I blinked and my eyes went back to green, “But then, I knew you had her every week – every night – you said you were working late.”

“What are you going to do with me?”

“Well, you know I killed her.  So, I can’t let you live.” I regarded him, “And you usually let me go to my mother’s house on a full moon.”

“Oh shit…” his eyes scanned the darkened room helplessly as I heard his heart rate increase.  Oh!  The excitement of your prey panicking… trying to find a way out when there is none is just hilarious when you’re the one who is tracking them down.

“Yes, oh shit.”

He started shaking… I love this part… but he had yet to see me change from human into wolf.  This part isn’t pretty, and I usually don’t let anyone see it, but tonight is special; and I was hoping to let him and his terror take on another shade – namely red – the same shade as my anger towards him.

The wolf inside me howled, breaking through my feeble human exterior.  I let it through happily this time.  I wanted to let it through to take over what I couldn’t do.  The last thing I remember before it turned out my lights was the look of horror on his face as the wolf ripped out his still-beating heart.

The early morning sun beat red through my eyelids as I heard sirens in the distance.  I opened them to be greeted by my friend who had found me in bushland behind my house with a suitcase.  He put it on the ground, opened it and quietly helped me clean up, get dressed and finally held me close as I started to cry.

“Did I do the right thing?” I sobbed.

“Yes.” He said, “Sara, I would have done the exact same thing if the person I devoted my life to had cheated on me… that the thing with us, we must find loyal partners; otherwise it doesn’t work.  And for you it didn’t work.”

The sirens were closer now.

“It’s time to go.” I stood, taking a deep breath in the chilly air.  But I wasn’t sure where I was going.

He gave me a set of car keys, “Here, take my car.”

“I couldn’t.”

“I have another with my wife in it.  She knows what happened and told me to help you.” He pushed the keys into my hand, “But, please just stick to animal hearts okay?”

“Well, until the next dickhead breaks mine again.”

He smiled, “Yeah.  That was fun.”