Campfire Story

Only One Way Home - Thriller
--This story is open for another 499 entries
--This story is open
Sep 10, 2010 12:33 AM Introduction
SlidZero started with:
    If only life were as simple as it was on The Brady Bunch, where the hardest things that you had to deal with were pimples, noses broken by footballs, and trying to lure Joe Namath to your house.  No, life was never that simple, here in reality we have to deal with genocide, natural disasters, poverty, jobs that we loathe...especially jobs that we loathe.  Yes, if only I had a nanny who was in love with a butcher then everything would be right in the world.  But, alas, I didn't and life sucked.
   This Brady Bunch fantasy was just one of many thoughts about escaping the hardships of this life. The Brady Bunch, Cosby Show, Full House...these were the thoughts that kept me company on my long commute to work everyday and kept my mind off of the tedious hours I was about to log.  Many people would find my life exciting.  Exciting, dangerous, exotic, sexy, manly: these were all ways that the general public would describe my job, but then again the general public didn't know shit, that's one of the reasons my job was so tedious, no challenge.  I wouldn't mind it all so much if i was challenged every once in a while but that had never been the case and I suspect it never would.
    I had finally arrived at work and I took a deep breath to help center my thoughts back onto the job.  I reached for my briefcase in the passenger seat and felt a wave of comfort as I gripped its well worn handle.  My trusty briefcase was one of the only stable things in my life, being a freelancer gives you a sense of constant wandering, but my briefcase was a welcome constant.  Willing myself to exit the blue Honda Accord and leave the comfort of cool air conditioning for the constricting hot, humid air of Brooklyn, NY, was a lot harder than it should have been, but then again I like to breath my air, not chew it. 
   I walked briskly to the bright blue front door of the red brick, townhouse that occupied the lot of land know known as 3076 Kings Highway.  I just wanted to cross a few items off of todays to-do list ASAP in hopes that I would become inspired, doubtful, but it was a nice thought anyway.  Three quick pumps on the doorbell and 15 or so constant raps on the door were all it took to rouse the occupant inside. A woman in a flowery moo moo answered the door, from the looks of it she was in the middle of applying her last layer of makeup before she debuted in the center ring for Barnum and Baileys.  Sheesh, where did these people come from.
   "Can I help you?"
   "I believe so.  Mrs. Sloan?"
   "Yes...."
    "Pleased to meet you, my name is Dalton Moore, most people just call me Pup. You don't know me but I do believe that you have met my current employer."
   I reached into my left, inside jacket pocket for my calling card and pulled it out to present to Mrs. Sloan.  She just stared at it with wide eyes, why did they always do that?
   "Mrs. Sloan, I have some bad news, unfortunately I am here to kill you.  Shall we go inside?"  As I said this I motioned inside the dimly lit apartment with my calling card, a .45 caliber Glock, "Please."

              
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Sep 27, 2010 03:47 PM Entry #1
sandee_ye wrote:
     The woman stood there in total disbelief; a large, fluffy white cat doing figure eights around her thick ankles.
     "Mrs. Sloan" I said again, "Please?"
     She continued to stand there, staring at first, at me then to the gun in my hand.  Swallowing hard, she moistened her lips and slowly backed into the foyer of the apartment.  Opening her mouth as if to speak; Hell to scream, nothing came out.  Her body was shaking all over as would anyone's in this same predicament. 
     I motioned to the sofa and very calmly said "Please, Mrs. Sloan, take a seat.  This will all be over in moment, and I promise, you'll not suffer."
     "Not...  not suffer?  Why?  Who?  I don't understand?  Who would... " she again swallowed hard and began to hyperventilate "Who would... want me dead?  And... and why?"
     "I'm sorry Mrs. Sloan, but I'm not at liberty to divulge that information."
     Laughing hysterically, she spat out "Not... not at liberty?  Thats the most ludicrous thing I've heard of.  If you're going to kill me anyway, why not just tell me who hired you, and why?"
     "I'm not at liberty, Mrs. Sloan, because I have no idea who wants you dead.  They contact me via text message with pertinent information on the subject.  I offer a price and they give the go ahead.  They wire the money to an off shore numbered account and when the money is received, I do the job.  Why and who are none of my business.  You understand, don't you?"
     "Under... stand?  No... I'm sorry but I don't."
     "Mrs. Sloan, lets not make this difficult.  Please make yourself comfortable, and I'll get right down to business.  Is there any music you'd like to listen too?" I said crossing to the stereo system on the shelf above the television.
     "Are you nuts?  You're here to kill me and you want me to get comfortable and listen to music?"
     "Mrs. Sloan, I'm beginning to lose my patience with you.  Now, if you don't have any request, I'll just pull the trigger now; but I must warn you, it could get messy."
     She looked at me as if I were insane; guessing she might not be far from her thought, I waited until she sat down on the sofa.  She closed her eyes and said "DO IT.  JUST DO IT."
     "As you wish" I said and pulled the trigger- delivering one round into her head.  The plump cat jumped onto the sofa and licked her face.  I walked over and pet the animal on the head, and then checked her pulse.  There was no real reason for this act, but I thought it was the respectful thing to do.
     I looked out the window to make sure there was no one around, then let myself out and returned to my car.  I opened the door and sat down, turned on Beethoven's Fur Elise, and headed across town to my next stop.
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