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
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.
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!”
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.
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...”
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.”
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.”
I hope you enjoyed my story and be safe today! Until next time, happy reading and writing everyone!