Speakeasy 130 – He laughs last

The instructions for Speakeasy 130 is to use a sentence, “Something moved in the shadows” and reference the Phantom of the Opera  song “The Music of the Night”. I was trying to go for creepy to match the October theme. Let me know if I accomplished this.

************************************************************************

Something moved in the shadows. One hundred yards was the interval he took in as he watched her. A football field in length, he knew he could cover it fast enough when the moment arrived. He curled his fingers, digging his long nails into the flesh of his palms as he anticipated his opening. His tongue slid along his dry, cracked and chapped lips, and he swallowed as he breathed in the cool fall air.

In his mind he could hear the ominous music of the movie slasher he felt was his kindred. His heart began to beat faster as his victim appeared in the window. She was alone, as he wanted. He took slow, yet measured steps as he crossed the wet grass toward her dimly lit door. The music in his mind was replaced by the scene that triggered his response. A time when she made him not only feel like a fool, but look like one.

Lindsey Keller was a knockout blonde, five foot eleven with a body that made him sweat. He had imagined so many scenarios with her, some he was sure would result in jail time if he followed through. But at this moment that fear was forgotten. He would get his chance to exact his twisted revenge.

He shifted the oversize bouquets of flowers so that no one could see his face as he approached the door. Throughout his thirty minutes of watching there had been little movement around the small complex, but he was being super careful. She would open the door for a flower delivery, even at this time of night. His obsession gave him that much knowledge.

He rang the doorbell once, twice, a third time before he heard a response. There was a pleased squeal followed by the sounds of locks clicking and finally the door opened to reveal the statuesque blonde in only a t-shirt and some shorts. She received the bundle of flowers just before he pushed her through the door.

She looked up confused, not yet reacting to the appearance of her faux delivery man. When her eyes met his, her face screwed into a look of disbelief then slowly to terror. The latex mask he wore was the type available in any store the weeks leading up to Halloween, a goblin or some other fictional monster. The terror the mask evoked from her was not fictional. Neither was the scream. He clamped his hand over her mouth as sought to stop the noise.

She was trembling and he liked it. The sassiness she presented in the college commons was gone now. The black gloves on his hands kept him from feeling her skin, but he knew that was necessary. He could not feel any compassion. No, she would pay for her lack of decency to him.

Lindsey did not resist. She was feeling the shock of the intrusion and knew there was no help coming. Her roommate was out of town for the weekend and no one else would hear her. It was her and this creep.

His heart was pounding, knowing he had made it to the pinnacle of the plan. He had her right where he wanted and now he called the shots. He pushed her toward the bedroom even as she began to cry. Shoving her on the bed, he stood staring at her as she moved toward the top of the bed to escape. He grabed her ankle and jerked her back. From his pocket he pulled a long hunting knife.

As she cried for mercy he uttered the phrases he rehearsed from what he knew was her favorite song.

“Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams
Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before
Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar.”

But he changed some key words in the last line
“And you die as you’ve never died before!”

His knife made its mark in the first couple of thrusts, but his anger was deep. When the police arrived the next morning, even the grizzled detectives found the scene disturbing. It had all the hallmarks of a serial killer, but so far only one victim.

“I hope this is not the start of something,” a sergeant whispered to his friend.

“For her it is not,” the detective answered. 

************************************************************************

 Check it out here: Speakeasy #130

Advertisements

About Joe Owens

Can you tell from my writing I love God? I hope so because that is what I want you to know most about me. I am also a writer who loves taking on fiction prompts and crafting a story. One day you will read my work in print. Until then enjoy it here! For free!
This entry was posted in Blogging Challenge, Fiction, Speakeasy, Writing and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to Speakeasy 130 – He laughs last

  1. nataliedeyoung says:

    Ew, creeper!

  2. Suzanne says:

    You definitely nailed creepy in this Joe! Right from the first paragraph, where he licks his dry and chapped lips. And I like the ending too – it lets us know how brutal it was without being gratuitous. Well done!

  3. Justice says:

    Love the ending! Well done.

  4. Stacie says:

    Very creepy. Great last line!

  5. jannatwrites says:

    What a terrifying scene. It’s scary that someone can carry around that much hatred. Oh, and if I ever get a flower delivery, I won’t open the door!

  6. shreyapunj says:

    Sinister and down right creepy! Great use of the prompts.

  7. MissTiffany says:

    That was seriously creepy! Gave my chills. Especially since “Music of the Night” is my favorite song from Phantom. You’ve suddenly added something sinister to it. It was well written!

So you took time to read what I wrote and I appreciate it, but comments are even better!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s