Getting Even – Featured Fiction

FF #20

Special Agent Marcus Fenton swallowed back the bile that had gathered in his throat; no matter how many crime scenes he was assigned to, his body responded the same way without fail. And so he stood there, looking like he’d been remoted onto ‘stand-by’, his face momentarily blank of expression.

“Sir, the paramedics are taking the woman now.” The voice barely reached him, struggling to push its way through the wall of thick fog that clouded his mind.

“Right,” Marcus grunted. He shook himself back to reality, the air around him seeming to plummet by twenty degrees or so.  Blood had indiscriminately splashed around the room before him; the pool that had gathered by the body of the John Doe already seeping its way into the oak floorboards beneath. Barely a few paces to the left had been the resting place for the woman, also as yet unnamed. They had found them both like this; door wide open, hands outstretched towards each other, the man already very much dead, his lifeless eyes lingering with the pain of his final moments; the woman barely breathing, her other hand clasped over the stab wound on her stomach.

There was no doubt as to the murder weapon; a blood soaked knife lying discarded by the fireplace as though a proud reminder of a heartless victory. The rest of the room lay dormant under a scattering of letters, each one carefully constructed in a false, unidentifiable script. Anger, vileness and a seething lust for revenge gripped every word of the threats scrawled across the plethora of pages. Threats that promised to see them both be targeted; threats, it seemed, that had been realised. Every photograph that had once been proudly displayed around the homely living room had been smashed, the broken shards of glass from the frames tearing at the images of the formerly happy, young couple.

Marcus moved over to the stretcher onto which the woman had been strapped. Her eyes were wild with fear as beads of sweat trickled down her pale face.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Marcus asked, leaning in close.

The response was barely a whisper. “M… Molly.” Her cracked lips parted to try and speak again, her hoarse voice escaping in sporadic rasps. “They… they came… I… warned him… No way out… No way out…”

“It’s okay,” said Marcus, a comforting hand instinctively reaching out for hers. “You’re safe now. It’s over. We’re going to protect you.” He turned his attention to the medical staff poised for his instruction. “Get her to hospital, ASAP.”

With a nod, they wheeled her from the small house and a deafening silence briefly weaved its way back into the desolate space.

“Tragic, isn’t it.” One of Marcus’ co-workers brushed her shoulder against his, sensing the struggle within him. “All of this over money.” The hate-filled letters had already confirmed that the deceased man that still lay before them had become embroiled in thousands of pounds worth of debt to rogue loan-sharks; predators that fed on the vulnerable and would evidently stop at nothing to get even.

“It’s sick.” Marcus sighed, taking his glasses from his face and wiping them against his coat sleeve. “That poor woman probably didn’t even know what was happening until it was too late. She shouldn’t have had to pay for her husband’s mistakes. We can’t let those bastards get away with this.”

As the paramedics slammed the ambulance doors shut and began the journey towards the hospital, Molly’s eyes glazed with a cold stare, her shoulders relaxing and mouth curling into the slightest suggestion of a smile.

 

—

This piece was written in response to the latest prompt over at Featured Fiction. Thanks for reading. 

Gone – Featured Fiction

Featured Fiction #10

Nothing could have prepared me for this. I no longer felt any pain, anger or regret. I wish I did, maybe then I would have had a chance; a tangible enemy within me to fight back against. Instead, all I am left with is a barren emptiness. This cold void where my heart used to be – the desolate cave robbed of all its former love – it’s too much for me to bear.

The people around me try to break their way through the concrete walls my mind has built but it’s futile. They wouldn’t find me even if they did. I’m not there anymore, not really.

I can feel it. The darkness is snaking its way through my very being, reaching from my core and wrapping itself around my lungs. It’s taunting me; squeezing just tight enough to hold my breath prisoner but not yet enough to put an end to this living hell.

And so I find myself in the water now. Currents are lapping at me like monstrous hands, desperate to pull me in. For the first time since it happened, I can truly see. The birds are chirping and the trees are swaying but their beauty is gone, replaced by a sense of bittersweet longing that she could only be here to see them with me one last time. But she can’t. She can never return, and so I must join her.

I wade deeper until the ground gives way beneath my feet to an endless chasm of sorrow and death. In those final moments, as the sun shimmered through my watery grave and sparkled off the pebbles below, I swear I saw her bright blue eyes, waiting to welcome me home.

—

I wrote this piece as a response to the latest prompt over at Featured Fiction. Its inspiration actually came from a heart-breaking article about a mother drowning herself in the same water her child had died in that I read a while ago and it sat in my mind for a long time. I originally wrote a poem – one I plan to post on my blog soon – but something about this prompt made the feelings materialise again and I wanted to readdress them accordingly. Thanks for reading.

Retribution (Featured Fiction)

Featured Fiction #4

The fiery core of the Earth burned in her heart as the ocean’s tears trickled from her eyes. Her long, pale fingers gripped the arms of her throne, carved from the wood of a mighty oak while a crown of roses rested upon her hair, their blood red colour harmonising perfectly with the golden tresses as bright as the summer sun.

Far above her head, fishermen cast nets into her waters in search of produce for their stalls. Lumberjacks threw their axes into her trees, the thud of the impact mirrored in her pulsating temples. Builders covered her land in concrete, their skyscrapers reaching up as though to try and mockingly touch her skies. Drivers fired up their cars, the fumes that shot like a bullet from the engines fighting with the sweet air she had gifted from her lungs.

Mother stood and clenched her fists. Waves began to swell, clouds began to gather, the earth around her quivered. Lighting crackled across the horizon as rain fell in retribution; they would pay for what they had done.

—

This short piece of flash fiction was written in response to the latest prompt over at Featured Fiction. Check it out and get involved, it’s lots of fun! Thanks for reading.