In honor of Friday the 13th, (today,) I wrote a special flash fiction. I hope you all enjoy. Also, if you entered my Spring Into Reading Contest, the winners have been announced. Congrats to the winners and thank you again to all who were kind enough to donate prizes!!
Now, for the story.
A Slasher's Friday the 13th
By
Jamie Corrigan
Victor
was still wearing the slight smirk from his dream as he awoke, ready
to start a new day. Life had been good to him. Born into a family of
murders, it was a miracle just to be alive. A bunch of beasts who'd
eat their own to survive gave him life, just for him to grow up and
reap it from others in return. Sometimes when he swung a knife, he'd
think how it wasn't right. But then the gorgeous crimson would spurt
into the air, and he'd forget about remorse and take another soul.
Squinting
as he fumbled his way to the kitchen, his skin tingled while his mind
tried to figure out what was wrong. Sprays of golden glitter smacked
him in the face, forcing his hand to pop up to block his eyes from
the attack.
Victor's
heart began pounding. Eyes widening, he looked around his tiny house.
Finding what he was looking for, he groaned. “Crap! I thought I
still had time.”
The
chirping coming from outside sent the boulder to the pit of his
stomach, making him double over in hopes of not spewing the acid that
was rising into his throat. Victor knew what this was. Payback.
Punishment. His curse for being such a horrid creature for so many
years.
Ding-dong!
The
doorbell sent him flying in the air, his robe opening wide enough for
anyone to see his naughty parts. His wrinkled fingertips barely
managed to close it before she came bursting through the door,
arms full of Spring blossoms of every color.
“Hey,
Mr. Van Mathis! I brought you a big bouquet of flowers to brighten
this place up and some groceries to make dinner.”
Victor
frowned at the redheaded girl, holding his robe tightly against his
body like it was a suit of armor. He hated how her crystal blue eyes
sparkled as she smiled at him, setting the flowers in vases to be
placed around the room lovingly.
She
didn't pay him any attention as she went around the room gathering
the petrified flowers from her last visit, replacing it with the new
ones with a smile. Tucking a lock of scarlet hair back into her
ponytail, she stopped and said, “How have you been?”
“Fine,”
Victor spat, hoping it'd send her running away. It never did, but he
always hoped.
Walking
toward the door, she asked, “Do you remember who I am?”
Sighing,
he replied flatly, “Why must you always ask that?” When she
didn't respond, he added, “Holly Reed. The little brat that's
driven me insane for, what is it? Thirteen years now?”
With a
bright, sunny smile, Holly chimed, “That's right! I'm nineteen now!
And you're still the cranky old man who tried to scare me with that
stupid fake knife when I was six.” She giggled before adding, “Be
right back with the groceries. Hope you like chicken!”
Victor
bolted back to his bedroom. Slamming the door behind him, he imagined
that was how those dumb bimbos must have felt as he was banging on
the door trying to get in. The squeak of the front door announced
Holly's arrival back into the house. Soon she'd be knocking, wanting
him to come out and join her in some mind numbing chit-chat that only
made him want to slit his own wrists to get away from it.
“Why
didn't I just slit her throat when I had the chance?” he mumbled to
himself as he tore the tattered robe from his body, preparing to find
something he could put on that wouldn't make her blush.
Knock,
knock, knock. “Mr. Van Mathis! You in there?”
Victor
grunted, pulling a torn pair of jeans up over his shaky legs. Sliding
into a musty red tee, he stumbled over and whipped open the door.
“What?” He met with her kind eyes, regretting his harsh tone
immediately. Swallowing, he tried again. “What?”
The tips
of her lips peaked up, “Do you want brown or white gravy for the
potatoes?”
Touching
his chest, Victor felt another crack in the wall around his heart.
“Whatever you want.”
“Okay,”
she said, her voice echoing with unease.
Glancing
in the mirror to his left, Victor saw how hollow his own toxic brown
eyes had become since her last visit. Ribs aching from his heart
trying to break from its prison, he walked to the back door,
mumbling, “Going for a walk.”
“Wear
good shoes,” Holly called out while messaging a chicken breast with
spices.
Pausing,
he looked back at her. “What did you say?”
Head
down, she replied, “Wear good shoes.”
“Why
would you say that?” Flashes of girls running away from him in
spiked heels flowed through his mind as he waited for her answer.
Rinsing
her hands in the sink, Holly smiled with the shake of her head.
“Because you might have to run.”
Victor
backed out the door, sure this was it. He was going to meet the same
fate as all of those tramps did for so many years. Only he was going
to die at the hands of a blue eyed beauty. Not a decrepit man, hell
bent on ending his life just to sustain his own.
Toes
digging into soft, morning dew grass, he began running for his life.
Victor had prayed for it to end, and even thought she would be the
one to do it. He just didn't realize that he wouldn't be ready when
the time actually came.
“Victor!
Where are you?” Holly called out in a sing-song way.
Bushes
rustled to his right, forcing him to go left toward the old creek.
The muggy Spring air made it almost impossible to breathe as he cut
through the forest like a hot blade through butter. Victor knew these
woods, better than she did. He hoped.
Rainbow
barf colored everything he'd known to be dim and dark, making him
mistake a turn that sent him sprawling into the icy spring water. The
loud crack of his ankle snapping sent tears to his eyes. This was
really it. Sweet little Holly Reed soon would be popping through the
bushes, knife in hand, to end his life and take over like he had his
mentor so many years ago. Difference was, he had no real connection
to her.
Right on
cue, her bronze body ripped through the fluffy green shrubs. A scowl
took the place of her usual smile as she crossed her arms, shaking
her head. “Why did you run away?”
Victor
had always loathed how those girls coward, covering themselves with
their arms like it would prevent him from doing what he had come
there for. As his arms lifted up to cover himself, he finally got why
they did it.
“I'm
going to kill you,” she hissed, sending shivers throughout his
crippled frame.
Even he
could hear the death rattle coming from his chest when he shouted,
“Please, don't kill me!”
Laughter.
Slowly
peeking through a slight space between his arms, he saw Holly doubled
over in hysterical laughter, shaking her head with every snort that
came along with it. Allowing his defenses to drop, he leaned forward
and asked, “What? Is this some kind of sick torture?”
Blue
globes flicking up and meeting with his, Holly stopped laughing. A
serious expression leapt to her face as she stood up and adjusted her
sunny yellow dress. Taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out,
her eyes dropped for a second before coming back to focus on him.
“Just
get it over with!” he begged.
Holly
shook her head defiantly. Slowly walking over and leaning down, she
threw his arm around her shoulders and began helping him to his feet.
“I told you to wear shoes,” she mumbled while taking a shaky step
forward, nearly tripping over the dog that scuttled under their feet.
Victor
wanted to puke as he caught a whiff of the fried chicken dinner she'd
prepared for them floating on the air and her body as she drug him
closer and closer to his death. He couldn't understand what she was
doing. Even he showed mercy to those begging for him to end it.
Looking at the charming girl out the corner of his eye, he couldn't
figure out how someone so beautiful could be so cruel.
They
both remained silent until she deposited him on the couch. Rolling
her shoulders, Holly barked, “What on earth did you think you were
doing out there?”
“Trying
to live.” He snickered at how easy their conversation was becoming.
It kind of made the tension in his bones slide away, allowing him to
finally breathe for once in his horrid life.
Scraaaaaape.
Scraaaaaape.
Victor
would know the sound of cool steel sliding along a stone anywhere. It
was his favorite way to sharpen his tools before making the first
cut, and it shocked him that it could also be hers. Slowly looking
over his shoulder, he sighed as Holly began cutting up the chicken
before placing it on plates filled with creamy potatoes covered in
brown gravy.
Stomach
growling, he mumbled, “Why do you do this?”
Holly
sat his dinner down in front of him and took the seat across from his
with a smile. Stabbing a juicy slice of fried chicken, she asked a
little coldly, “Do what, Mr. Van Mathis?”
“Every
time my calender says this date, poof! You appear.”
Chewing
slowly, Holly's eyes narrowed. Finally swallowing, she replied,
“Yeah. And?”
Victor
pushed the mouthwatering meat with his fork, expecting it to explode
at any moment. Keeping his focus on Holly, he muttered, “Why always
the thirteenth? What's so special about this day?”
Fork
sliding slowly from her lips, a hint of glee lingered in her eyes.
“Don't you remember?”
“Remember
what?” The air in his house started to choke him as he looked in
her pleased eyes.
Taking a
sip of her soda, her gaze remained on Victor. Sitting the glass down,
she recited, “There once was a girl who ran through the woods...”
Holly
nodded, forcing Victor to continue her poem. “Hoping for the boy to
find her.”
“Right,”
she said cheerfully as she took another bite from her plate. After a
moment, she continued, “Through leaps and bounds, no boy could be
found...”
Another
nod.
Tugging
at his collar, Victor recited as his finger ran along the ragged
birthmark on the back of his neck, “Because he'd already been
slaughtered.”
“Right
again, Mr. Van Mathis!”
Victor
pushed his food away, leaning forward while keeping his eyes locked
with hers, he asked, “How do you know this rhyme?”
Pulling
her ponytail aside, her finger ran over a small birthmark along the
back of her neck. “My mom told it to me when I was little.” Holly
smirked before going on. “Now, where were we? Oh, yeah. 'Run, run,
run through the woods she did go...”
“I
don't want to do this anymore, Holly.”
“Fun,
fun, fun he had watching her so,” she continued. Holly shook her
head as Victor edged a little closer to getting up. “He always
loves how it feels...” When Victor refused to continue, she spat,
“Finish it.”
“When
they run in heels, making it easier to bring them to slaughter.”
“Good.”
Holly
sat there until he'd eaten every bite and did the dishes after he was done. Walking
toward the door, she started saying her good-byes. “I'll see you
later. You know when.”
His hand
shot out, wrapping around her wrist before he knew what he was doing.
Pulling her to him, he stared at her face while flashes of a girl
long forgotten went though his mind. “Her name was Molly Reed and I
loved her so much.”
Smiling,
Holly's hands cupped his face. “I know,” she whispered.
“Our
anniversary. That's why you come here, isn't it?”
Nodding,
she whispered, “Before you killed her, she asked me to watch after
you. So I am.”
Tears
stung his eyes as he recognized features of two long forgotten people
reflecting in Holly's face. The knife made its invisible cut when he
realized why she only appeared on that day. In a ragged voice, he
asked, “Punishment?”
“Of
course, daddy. See you next Friday the thirteenth.”
Watching
his only daughter walk away, Victor understood what she was doing.
While Holly may have been the daughter of a beast, she was also the
daughter of an angel. Her instinct was to kill him, he could see that
in her eyes when she looked at him. But her heart forced her to
nurture him to his death.
Holly
Reed had found her own way of bringing the fear out of him that he'd
brought out of her mother. Sunny colors, kindness, and a friendly
smile was enough to make him beg for his life. Doing it on his
special day, was just the cherry on top of his hellish sundae.
Slinking
down on the couch, he smiled. Proud of his little girl and waiting
for the next Friday the thirteenth to come around so they could
continue their dance until his death that was surely to come at her
hands one day.
Twiddling
his thumbs, he began to chant, “There once was a girl who ran
through the woods, hoping for the boy to find her. Through leaps and
bounds, no boy could be found, because he'd already been slaughtered.
Run, run, run through the woods she did go. Fun, fun, fun he had
watching her so. He always loves how it feels, When they run in
heels, making it easier to bring them to slaughter.”
The
smirk reappeared on his lips as Victor added, “The girl did run, to
his arms she did fall. She has gotten her revenge by the hands of his
own daughter.”
The End
I hope you enjoyed my story and be safe today! Until next time, happy reading and writing everyone!
