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Murder Inc

Blog Note:
This is my first stab (no pun intended) at writing something a little more gruesome. If it sucks, please blame me for never reading any horror stories.


He saw stars. He felt cool and immobile. He heard a soft sifting sound. Then, he panicked.

He tried to scream but no sound would come out. In fact, his jaw was jammed open and he had a bloody metallic taste in his mouth.

Refocusing his eyes he could see a PVC pipe towering into the night and terminating inside his aching mouth.

“There, there,” a woman said. “Please don’t worry. I am almost finished.”

A face came into view, looming over him. Even in the dark he could make out shimmering blue eyes and delicately chiseled features. The woman’s hair was pulled back into a pony tail. She was wearing a white fitted blouse and tight blue jeans.

“Remember me?” she said.

Her voice cooed at him with a sickening sweetness that rang completely false. He tried to nod his head but it too was immobile.

“Just blink once for a no and twice for a yes,” she said.

The man blinked twice.

“Oh good,” she said. “I’m just tickled you haven’t forgotten all about me.”

Her face disappeared and the sifting sound returned.

The man could tell he was in a hole. He judged the depth to be roughly five feet deep. The sifting sound he realized, with great horror, was a shovel moving through dirt. The woman was burying him alive.

“Do you remember meeting at the bar?” the woman said. “I thought getting you out here would be difficult but lucky for me you were careless. I saw you drop something in my beer. When you turned to pay I switched our glasses. Whatever you selected certainly was strong because, bless your heart, just 20 minutes later you were passed out.”

The man started to cry. The woman paused to enjoy his terror and admire how well she had duct taped him to the board he was laying on. He looked like a metallic mummy.

“Getting you into my car was easy. I simply asked two nice young men to help me get my date into my car. They didn’t even question it when I said to put in the back. I just batted my eyes and told them I didn’t want you throwing up all over the seats in my new BMW. How was the ride? I find the SUV is a smoother, trouble free driving experience. The roads can be terrible out here.”

The sifting sound continued. He could now feel the dirt landing all around him.

The woman was careful not to get any dirt on her clothes. Occasionally she checked her watch to see what time it was.

Burying the man alive was not part of her initial plan. However, she’d learned to improvise over the last few years. Things rarely went according to plan.

Her first “job” was a notorious pimp in Galveston. She had planned to simply shoot him in an alley but he instead tried to “woo” her into becoming his property with a midnight trip to the beach.

She knew what he was planning. Isolated on the far west end of the island she would be savagely beaten and raped until her willingness to say “No” was permanently disabled.

She turned the tables by stripping quickly out of her clothes and dashing into the surf. She cajoled him into following her. His uneasiness with the water convinced her to quickly punch him in the throat. Stunned, a large wave knocked him over. She pounced on him and using her surprising strength held his head under the water until he drowned.

She was exhausted but elated with her first success.

The family that intially contacted her quietly told others and soon she found her services in great demand.

The one job she regretted was the child molester at zoo. She slipped up next to him, stabbed him with a syringe full of toxins. He instantly went into cardiac arrest.

She did not regret his death. She simply did not like that several children on a field trip saw him fall over and crack his head open on the ground.

Even now, thinking about it she paused, frowned and then shook her head as if to knock the memory loose.

“You are number 13, Alan,” she said. “Do you want to know why you are here?”

She walked over to the edge of the grave and shined her flashlight in the man’s eyes.

“Blink for me, baby,” she said.

He blinked twice.

“Well… You have been a bad boy,” she said. “That wasn’t the first time you had fun with someone’s drink. In fact, I have had several complaints about you, haven’t I?”

The man blinked once for “No” sending her into a rage.

“Don’t fucking lie to me you piece of shit!” she screamed. “I connected the dots with you and it’s totally sick what you do. In fact, asshole, if I had the time –”

Her tirade was interupted by her cell phone ringing.

She stepped back from the edge of the grave to answer it.

“Hello,” she said. “Oh you did? That’s wonderful. I am so proud of you.”

She stood there listening quietly to her phone.

“Well, mommy is almost done and when I get home I’ll tuck you into bed. I love you too.”

She slid her phone into her pocket and walked back to the edge of the grave.

“Alan, I have to speed things up,” she said. “We both know there is at least 26 different women you roofied. We both know you posted videos of what you did to those poor girls online. We both know it’s going to end now, permanently.”

The man began to cry again. The woman continued covering him in dirt.

When the grave was full, she grabbed the pipe and jerked it up out of the ground.

“Good night, Alan,” she said, leaving him to suffocate under 5,000 pounds of dirt.

Then she loaded the shovel and pipe into her car, checked her watch and drove home.

It was a job well done.

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About Suburban War Lord

Suburban War Lord

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