Prompted by: Ember-Raine Winters a.k.a. Lady E
The crazy author says: Another one-word prompt. Errr, just stating the obvious haha!
It’s been nearly an hour of complete silence.
We’d spent five minutes making out like teenagers. I’d taken three to transfer into the car, disassemble my chair, and toss it behind me. Typically a ninety-second task, I had purposely slowed my movements, gone twice as slow, giving her every opportunity to change her mind.
To stay behind.
She hadn’t.
She’d slid into the seat beside me. Shut the passenger door. Moved closer to lay her head against my shoulder. And stayed like that for the entire thirty-something-minute drive into the heart of Bel-Air.
I park, kill the engine, and calmly get out.
She doesn’t follow me.
I never look back.
Not once.
Wheeling up to their house, I find the front door unlocked and let myself inside. I head straight for the master suite, passing G in the hall.
A bra dangles from one hand. She lifts the other in a thumb’s up.
I barely acknowledge her.
Instead, I approach the bed where Mr. Julia lies in a deep sleep and reach for my hunting knife.
Alcohol lingers on his breath. Drugs course through his veins. Certain death looms in his near future.
I unsheathe the blade and press it to his neck.
His eyes pop open, confused at first. Then surprised. Then panicked when the piece of shit realizes he can’t move a single muscle…
“Don’t.”
His gaze whips past me to his wife. He’s apologetic. Remorseful. Pleading. Scared shitless.
Fucking pathetic.
“Jules,” I say, “do you really want me to stop?”
No reply.
I gradually slice across his jugular. Deep enough to draw a slow seepage of blood. Shallow enough to do no real damage.
A garbled sound rumbles in his throat.
He’s trying to speak. To scream. To beg for his life.
He can’t.
She can though, “Tech, don’t.”
As the stark white pillow turns a bright crimson, I ask again, “Do you really want me to stop?”
Leaning down to kiss my temple, she pries the weapon from my grip and whispers, “Let me do it.”
What’s the prompt for next week, guys?
Make suggestions below. 7 words or less.
Ahh, what a great scene!! Love it so much!! Killing together, so romantic!!
Prompt suggestion
Did I hear you right?
LOLOLLLL
I love you, Princess J. For so many different reasons 😉 And thank youuu!!!
Hugs,
Ann
Haha, I love you too, and one of the reasons is these amazing flash fiction scenes you write that I look forward to every week!
Oooh dark!!! And a bit of a cliff hanger – will she, won’t she?
Propmt suggestions:
Are you crazy?
Jen 😙
I know, eh, Miss Jen? Dunno why I’m obsessed with stabbing characters. I’ve never even stabbed anyone in real life. Well, except that one time I was playing the five finger fillet…
But that was an accident. I swear!!
That prompt is a Freudian slip. I know it is. Thank youuu!!! 😙 (borrowing your emoji)
Hugs,
Ann
I think we prefer fictional stabbings, less mess to clear up!
And yes all of my prompts are Freudian 😉
*Big squishy hugs*
We can just create a fictional “cleaner” to come in and make everything…err…disappear, eh? 😉
Accepts and returns big squishy hugs with gusto,
Ann
P.S. Now I gotta go back and read all your Freudian prompts haha!
Great, there`s nothing left to say!
Prompt suggestion:
-How does it feel?
Ahhh, Miss Sam!!
Thank youuuu! And thank you for the fab prompt too, of course!!!
Big hugs,
Ann
Aww! That was awesome! Annnd you used my prompt! Yay! Love that she wants to do it herself!!! The best h’s always want to be independent!
Prompt!
Go!
Is he dead?
Your prompts are da bomb diggity, Lady E! Thank youuu!!
And yes…independence is key…when dealing with husbands…
*nudge nudge wink wink stab stab*
Hugs,
Ann
Love as is always the case!!!
Prompts
I don’t want to do this anymore
Games people play
Watch me
Please?
Awww, Miss AnRo!
You’re too freakin’ sweet! And thank youuu for the prompts!!!
Hugs,
Ann