His nemesis

the speakeasy at yeah write #148

His nemesis

It was such a beautiful night. After her parents left to attend a late night dinner party, she sat looking at the sky, counting the stars. She felt happy and at peace. An hour later she was snuggling into bed when he came and stood at the door. She smiled and said,” Need anything?”  He came in and locked the door. She sat up and asked in an alarmed voice, “What’s wrong?” He did not answer but strode over to the bed and threw himself on her. Shocked she became immobile for a few minutes but then as she felt his hands and lips everywhere, she panicked. She kicked and fought with all the strength of a fifteen year old but he was stronger and older. He murmured sweet nothings and then he ravaged not only her body but her tender soul. She was scarred for life. Not that he cared. After it was over he said, “No one could ever know what happened here.”

Brenda had been tailing him for days. She knew her hunch was right. She watched him now from behind the trees near the park.

This was her tenth such case. She was determined to bring the culprit to book and make this her 1oth successful mission.

He had been sitting on the bench, hiding behind the newspaper, which he was pretending to read.

Brenda knew that his eyes were on the girl in the pink dress-a sweet girl about fourteen. He had been following her for the last two weeks. What he did not know was while he was trying to trap his prey, he was also being hunted. Brenda gave a satisfied smile.

She loathed such men who preyed on innocent young girls, raping them and many a times murdering them-just for kicks!

She knew where he planned to take the victim and had already alerted her team. They would be waiting for him. Not that she would let that happen but just in case…

As evening approached, slowly the park started emptying. The girl left with her friend. The man followed.

Brenda knew that the girl would part from her friend at the fork in the road and the man would be making his move then.

She waited to ambush him.

She saw the girl coming and waited for the man to appear but he seemed to be taking forever. Had he changed his mind? But why should he change his modus operandi? Had he become suspicious? Many thoughts and apprehensions raced through Brenda’s mind.

A blue sedan came honking by and stopped next to the girl. Brenda saw her smile, .nod and point to the opposite lane. Then to her utter surprise she saw her climb into the car. Before she could react, the car sped by. She was shocked to see that the man was at the wheel.

No time to get her car, she thought as she raced to the road and hailed a cab. She was glad that her team was waiting for this rascal but soon was dismayed to see the blue sedan heading in the opposite direction. She contacted her team and told them to send back up as soon as possible.

As the blue sedan swerved and took a sudden right turn, her heart lurched for she saw that it was entering a secluded area. She asked the driver to stop when she saw the sedan slowing. As she had suspected it stopped in front of a run down two-storey building. The man got down; dragging the now shrieking girl after him .Another man came out from the house and said something to the first man. Then he picked up the girl, turned and entered the house, while the second man left.

.

Brenda paid the cab driver and walked into the house.

The man was bent upon the spread–eagled girl on the bed, who had fainted in terror.

The man was saying, “My sweet one! From now on you belong to me!”

That voice!

No one could ever know what happened here.

 And Brenda was 15 again!

 “No!! Not ever again, you dirty scumbag!”She screamed.

He turned and froze seeing the gun in her hand.

But then recognition flooded his eyes and he drawled,”Lookie, it is sweet little sis. Come gimme a kiss!”

Brenda’s skin crawled. She could not bear it anymore.

“You hateful bastard! You are no brother of mine!” cried Brenda and fired all six bullets into him.

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This was written  for the Speakeasy at Yeah Write. This week, the prompt sentence is: “No one could ever know what happened here,” which can be located anywhere in the story  and also made some sort of reference to the song Counting Stars, by OneRepublic. Word count-750(including the prompt and title).

To check out what others have written or to join the challenge click on this link –  http://www.yeahwrite.me/speakeasy/148-open/

The affair

Trifextra: Week 102

This week Trifextra is asking for exactly 33 of our own words about love gone wrong.  But we’re  not  to use any of the following words:

love
sad
tears
wept
heart
pain
 
This weekend’s challenge is community judged.

– See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.sNMv8id0.dpuf

This sure  was  a tough challenge but had fun writing this.Hope you enjoy my 33 words:-)

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The affair

 

Gerald and Suzy are lovers.

Enter Allen-the rich, handsome neighbour.

A secret affair blossoms…

Rumours spread.

Suzy decides to end it all.

Walks in-to catch Gerald and Allen in the throes of passion!

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Post Valentine

FRIDAY FICTIONEERS

Time again to have some fun at FF where our wonderful host Rochelle Wisoff-Fields manages to attract more than 100 writers from all over the world every week. These talented writers respond to a photo prompt and come up with 100 or so words of fiction or poetry.This week the photo below is provided by Janet Webb.

Copyright - Janet Webb

                                             Copyright – Janet Webb

This cool photo immediately stirred dark,murderous ideas in my wicked brain but strangely,my story decided to go its own way.So here it comes-101 words including the title :-)By the way,my heartfelt thanks to all those who came by to read my submission last week and my apologies if I haven’t been around to read their’s or respond with a thanks. Have been a little busy as my daughter’s 18th Birthday is coming up this Saturday and I have been running around trying to get the invitations out and shopping and stuff.However,I promise to read  this week’s submission without fail by next Monday.

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Post Valentine

Hi Camellia! How was Valentine’s Day?

Oh Kara, don’t even ask!

Why what happened?

I think I need some strong coffee first.

The aroma of fresh coffee perked them up.

Well Kara, I was shocked to see that Kevin had ordered red wine. Eww! You know how I hate red wine!”

Awful!

And imagine, there were no chocolates or flowers!

OMG! Such a cheapskate! Did he give a gift?

My portrait painted by him! So ugly!

Bah! Kick him out of your life.

Oh, I already did.

Fantastic! His loss sweetie! Let’s go shopping.

Let’s! I need retail therapy.

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Red Herring

FRIDAY FICTIONEERS

This week I am really running late for Rochelle’s 100 words flash fiction contest and when I just checked,already 104 writers from across the globe have  made it to the arena.The lamps must be aglow with happiness and all these  energetic writers must have had some really bright ideas ,looking at the cool photo prompt for this week,supplied by Down M.Miller.Well,the bulb in my mind must be  on a holiday and thus,,if you find my 100 words a little “dim”,blame it on the absence of illumination,lol!

For those of you who want to check out what the bright ones have posted or those who would love to write  for this amazing site ,do check  Rochelle Wisoff- Fields amazing site by clicking on this link-http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/friday-fictioneers-2/

Here is the photo-prompt for this week and my story follows it:-)

Copyright - Dawn M. Miller

                                                Copyright – Dawn M. Miller

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Red herring

When it made contact with the target, the resulting crunch sounded very satisfying.

Sharon looked at the broken shards of the lamp -poetic justice, huh?

Now, all that remained was to tidy up the place and remove all evidence.

Then she had a brainwave. Why not implicate the other?

She so hated Simon.

Sharon laid the body on the carpet

Later in the evening, she returned to the crime scene.

Aunt Amy lay in bed, moaning.

“I hate you Simon! How could you break my favourite Tiffany lamp- just for a mouse!”

The cat sat outside, looking miffed.

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At the stroke of midnight

 For the speakeasy at yeah write #147

At the stroke of midnight

“There was a time when things were different. When I was young…”

 Amused laughter and snatches of conversation filtered through the living room into the kitchen where Christina stood at the sink washing the dishes. She was used to such sessions of group study at her house. Gary, her husband was a renowned Professor at the university.

She finished washing the dishes and started dinner. The students would be leaving any minute and she did not want to be caught on the wrong foot.

Few minutes later, she heard the door close and tensed. Gary strode into the kitchen.

“What’s cooking? Smells  good.” His arms went around her waist and he started nuzzling her neck.

“Its pot roast”, she replied, trying to put a smile in her voice.

His fingers were already busy undoing the buttons of her blouse.

“The food will get burnt, “she protested mildly but to no avail.

Gary took her on the kitchen floor, while she clenched her teeth to stop herself from crying out. She knew he was watching her. Any sign of discomfort or pain would just egg him on. Sex was not for pleasure but something he used against her, to inflict pain and humiliate her.

She could smell the food burning and involuntarily her eyes moved towards the stove. That was enough to tilt the scales. Gary shoved her away with such suddenness that she banged her head hard against the worktable and she cried out.

“You flat chested cold fish! Not even the best plastic surgeon in the world can help you.” He jeered.

With that, he left the kitchen and shut himself up in his den.

Christina knew better than to call his bluff. She was a size D and very attractive. She had been very popular all through college and even now, at parties, men sought her out.

Looking back on her three years of marriage she wondered how she had not seen through Gary’s veneer of decency. She had ruminated on this many times but each time she concluded that she had had no way to gauge it. Gary had played his cards very smartly.

 In their six months of courtship, he had always been gentle, courteous and attentive to her every need. He was well established, had his own house, and was respected in the community. No one would ever believe that the same man could behave in such a manner.

She too had not-the first time it happened. They had been married two weeks and had returned after seeing a movie. As she was taking off her jewelry, Gary grabbed her roughly, tore her dress off her back and had his way with her. She was left bruised; a little shocked but she was still very much in love and thought this just added another shade to their colourful life.

She couldn’t have been more wrong!

She remembered how one afternoon he had returned home and started dragging her to the bedroom. When she protested, he growled, ”Why not? Am not good enough for you, eh? Or is there someone else giving you what you are refusing me?” He had then beaten her leaving her numb with shock and pain.

Another night, in one of their intimate moments, he had suddenly slapped her and said, “You Bitch! Do you think I don’t know? Fantasizing about your dream lover, aren’t you?”

The pattern continued without any respite. Initially she tried to get him to go for counselling but was laughed at and punished severely.

Christine knew no one would believe her. She had no one to turn to-Gary had made sure of that.

Deciding enough was enough, she started her quest for freedom. She used different internet cafes in the neighbouring town, every time she went online. No use leaving tell tale signs.

New Year’s Eve.

Christine, beautiful in her off shoulder floor length burgundy gown .The full sleeves, gathered at the wrist looked divine. Her French knot looked regal.

She watched Gary enjoying himself. Oh, how he loved being the cynosure of all eyes! Well, it would be the last time he did, she mused.

At the stroke of midnight, the lights dimmed and everyone rushed to hug and wish each other. In a flash, Christine stabbed Gary with her poison tipped stiletto knife, and moved away.

There was an investigation but the Police never found the weapon or the motive for Gary’s murder.

Best thing? She was never suspected.

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This is written for The Speakeasy at Yeah Write. The weekly writing challenge with a sentence and image writing prompt for up to 750 words. This week the sentence, “There was a time when things were different,” must be used as the beginning of the story. This week’s prompt can be found here: http://www.yeahwrite.me/speakeasy/147-open/ 

                 

<a href=”http://www.yeahwrite.me/speakeasy/147-open/”><img src=”http://www.yeahwrite.me/speakeasy/wp-content/uploads/2013/09/speakeasy2.png”></a&gt;

Questioning heart

Open Link Night ~ Week 131

 

Questioning heart

 

Tell me my love

When you ripped my heart open

And I bled tears

Did it bathe your wounds?

Or heal your scars?

When you painted my soul

with the black ink of betrayal

did a rainbow appear

in the mirror of your soul?

Please, sweetheart,

Do tell me

when you pierced my self esteem

with shrapnel of indifference

Did your lips taste sweetness?

or did your heart skip a beat?

Did you perchance feel a thrill

when you shattered my fragile anima

with your harsh silence?

Tell me my love

Did the keening of my lonely soul

turn into lullaby 

When you laid yourself down to sleep?

Pray, tell me

Did you feel victorious?

With every promise you broke

And with each lie you uttered

Did you settle some score?

I so want to know,

Did it make you happy

To erase the memories I thought we made?

Or was it just a cake walk

To never give, but just take?

When I begged for scraps

Did it give you a high?

 Or did peace dawn on you

When you heard me sigh?

Wonder if it ever bothered you darling

the mind games you played?

Leading me on with your worldly wise ways?

Kindly answer, for I do need to know

Why does my heart still ache without you

and life seems hollow?

 

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The above poem was written for DVerse.To learn more and participate,please click on the link http://dversepoets.com/2014/02/04/open-link-night-week-131/

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55 words

 

55 Word Challenge: Week Four 2014

 

The 55 Word Challenge is a contest to write a story in 55 words or less. The challenge begins at noon Eastern time every Wednesday and ends at noon Thursday. The story is based on one of three photo prompts.

 

This prompt was for last week and though I had submitted it on the blog as per requirement,had not posted it on my blog-so here goes..If any of you is interested in participating just check out the blog at http://www.lisamccourthollar.com/2014/01/55-word-challenge-week-four-2014.html

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55 words

 Laura shivered. The hospital really looked dead! Even the staff seemed sinister. But she needed the story for her magazine “Haunted Ohio”. She followed the Doctor inside and felt herself choking.. As her abandoned mortal body turned blue on the cold floor, her spirit floated in that dilapidated, dank corridor along with other ghostly apparitions.

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Trapped

Trifecta: Week 111

This week’s one-word prompt.
 

MANIPULATE (transitive verb)

See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.Csr5i3fe.dpuf

Here are my 332 words:-)

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Trapped

 It was two in the morning when he entered the hospital. An accident victim was being wheeled in. He took advantage of the melee and was soon on the 4th floor.

 His first pit stop, he thought and chuckled inwardly at his own wit.

Locating the men’s room, he got to work. Soon he was dressed in a Doctor’s coat with the signature stethoscope around his neck. Looking at himself in the mirror, he smiled. Now on to room number 610-his next pit stop.

No one was around in the corridor. Cautiously he opened the door to the room. In the dim light, Jen’s golden hair was visible on the pillow, though her back was turned towards him.

Taking the gloves from his right pocket and the ampoule and syringe from the other, he injected the same poison that had brought Jen here, into her IV bottle.

It was all her fault.

Granted they had been in love and that he had promised to marry her but then his Boss had died. The Boss’s daughter Clara had inherited his million dollar business. Clara had always had a sweet spot for him but her pug face and flat body made her easy to resist, till now.

He was a charmer. Thus, it was a cake walk for him to manipulate his schedule in the office such that he and Clara kept dashing into each other. Inevitably, sparks flew-from Clara’s end at least. She wanted him-for keeps.

But he could not manipulate Jen. She threw a fit and threatened to sue him for fraud.

Feeling trapped, he poisoned her coffee yesterday evening. Then he heard that she had survived but was unconscious. Thus this nightly visit to finish the job before Jen could spill the beans.

Ah, final pit stop-home. He smiled.

 He turned to leave and froze.

Cops!!

A voice boomed, “Raise your hands Stuart Pinto. You are under arrest for the attempted murder of Jen Brooks.”

Behind him, he heard Jen snigger…

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