Tuesday, July 11, 2017

The Letter Killer

I saw a writing prompt on Facebook, and decided to do a quick little short story based on it. It's 513 words. So I'm counting this at my 500 words for the day.

There is a pictures in my phone of me sleeping and I live alone. I’ve been thinking about it all week. How did it get there? Who took it? Why did they take it? It’s the thought that is consuming me as I sit in my cubicle taking phone calls and talking to people about their end of life plans. I work for a company that helps people to plan and prepay for their funerals. I hear a lot of tears during my day.

I woke up on monday to see my phone was on, and there was a picture of me sleeping. It’s now Thursday, and it’s driving me mad. I woke up on Tuesday to a voicemail saying that I’m being watched. Who the hell is watching me? Why am I being watched? Wednesday, I get an email that is detailing everything I did on Tuesday, and what I was wearing that day. Today I got another picture, this time it was of me and a date I was on, the text said I could have done better.

I’m driving home, thinking about that damn text message. Fuck, they’re right. I could have done better. I turn the wheel hard to the right to avoid being hit by another car. I survive the drive home, and I put the keys on the table. I toss that day’s mail next to my keys. I look down at the top envelope. It just says open me, on the front of it. I’d be an idiot to open it right? Fuck, my curiosity is going to be my death. I pick up the mystery mail, and I begin to open it. When my front door explodes open, and the cops rush in and the first one there rips the envelope out of my hands.

The cop looks over at me. “Thank god! We got here just in time.” My jaw was having issues closing. “What do you mean?” I ask her. “There is a serial killer that has been stalking people for the past year. You were his newest victim. There is a bomb in that letter.” I watch as the bomb squad carefully picks up the letter and takes it outside. Just as they get to the doorway, it starts beeping. The cop’s eyes expand in surprise. “Oh shit!” she says as I’m suddenly on the floor watching flames cover my ceiling. I feel the flames on my skin. It hurts, I scream, and then I….

24 hours Later:
“We are still at the scene of a horrifying crime. The Letter Killer has struck again, only this time his victims include several members of the bomb squad, two vice detectives and his intended victim. Twenty three year old, Samuel Kincaid. A call center worker. The LAPD have yet to put out a statement. This is Kim Young reporting.”

He turned off the T.V. He began to laugh. “We aren’t even close to being done yet.” He said as he stood up and walked over to the table covered with wires, and parts.

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