The old detective was unperturbed when he saw the bloody body parts scattered cavalierly on the ground. His partner stepped carefully so as not to disturb the crime scene. Because this was his first day on the job, he kept asking questions excitedly, disturbing the train of thought of his older partner, who seemed to be in a reverie as he contemplated the murder site. “For someone who has been on the force for so long, you sure don’t talk much,” the younger man chattered.

Rolling his eyes in consternation, the old detective realized reluctantly that his young colleague was asking way too many questions and, unfortunately, would have to be his next victim.

The Orchid colored haired Wolfendor laid on the ground with blood near his mouth. He trembled as he laid there. There also stood a dark elf the size of a dwarf.

"Why? Why did you do this... ugh. Why did you do this to me?" The Orchid Wolfendor asked as he held his blood covered hand on his gut.

"Why? You don't need to live since no one loves you. The hate you. You get in the way all the time. I am here and yet they would rather be with someone lame like you!" The Dark elf snapped back.

The Wolfendor coughed up more blood and shook some more. The Elf smiled and was fixing to scream but changed his mind. He left the Wolfendor, laying there on the ground. The Wolfendor tried to scream, but couldn't because of the blood in his throat. It burned his throat as it ran into his stomach.

He woke up with a start as he started shaking. His Anxiety was getting him. He grabbed the bottle of medicine that was on his night stand. He opened it and grabbed 3 pills out to take. His room mate, Andy the Dark Dwarf Elf, sat up in his bed and looked over at him.

"You alright, Eric?" Andy asked with a yawn.

"Y... Yeah, I will be... soon." Eric said as his vision started to go blurry as he stood up.

Andy shrugged, laid back down and went back to sleep. Eric went to the bathroom and ran the water into a cup. He took the cup of water to the kitchen, took his pills and something stabbed him as he finished the cup of water. The dark shadow disappeared and the knife dropped beside him.

The next morning, Eric's body was never found.

Since the day I was arrested, I’ve been asked a lot of questions. The most common?

What could possibly drive someone to murder their best friend?

People can’t seem to grasp it: the idea that I killed my childhood companion.

That I—quite literally—eviscerated her.

That I left her body to empty itself into the soil as she faded, slowly and in agony.

In the end, what they want to know boils down to “why,” though some poor souls get confused and ask “how” instead. Practically quivering with self-indulgent indignation, they shout, “How could you possibly do such a thing?”—a query to which I respond with a comprehensive description of the process of disembowelment. In my experience, though, such a response is usually interrupted as soon as the would-be interrogator understands what’s being described.

It’s no small amusement: to watch as the face pales, the lips purse, the eyebrows take flight. Of course, obliging woman that I am, I always remind them, “Well, you did ask ‘how,’ didn’t you?”

And let me tell you: the reactions that follow are delicious.

But I imagine that you, dear reader, may now be finding yourself in my accusers’ proverbial shoes and so I’ll throw you the proverbial bone. You ask why I killed her, and I’ll tell you. But before I do, I’d be remiss not to warn you; given that you don’t have the proper context, you may initially find my reasoning somewhat…cold.

You see, I murdered Joy because she was regrettably, unapologetically, and unforgivably boring.

....... ...

#challenge

#horror

#shortstory

#microfiction

#victim

#murder

#brieflygraphic

Welcome

to the 

ante chamber

of the heart!

Here it's nice

and cold and dark.

Please pull 

up a chair

gentlemen..

and remember

it's impolite to stare.

The lady in waiting

will soon enter

from over there

...in a while...

but for now

we hope and

prey...

you'll enjoy

the air-

condition 

and the sterile 

atmosphere...

No need to leave

your calling cards!

We'll be sure

to save your 

place in line

should you stray

but if you could

be so kind...

please take 

these tags 

and this

badge...

and if you could,

please wear

the pair...

Thank you 

your name will

auto-matically 

register...

If you should 

find that you tire

...rest assured

we've got room

to spare...

right back there

private and 

solitaire...

But of course

we're happy 

to share...

it has its

own pad- 

lock secure

here on the

exterior...

just step in-

side and sleep

for a while

.....where

it's nice and 

cold and dark.

#Victim #Challenge

Finally.

A chance to show my worth

My feeling, my passion

Appearing on earth.

Finally.

I can step onto a grand, little stage

Where my audience sips coffee

And I'm the one getting paid.

Finally.

Someone enjoyed my voice

He actually heard me

Instead of just noise.

Finally.

I was invited to where the talented go

He would show me the ropes

He thought I was the star of the show.

Finally.

He said that I didn't have to pay

I could just pack up my bags

And live my dreams in L.A.

Finally.

We arrived at his house

He pushed me inside

There was no getting out.

Finally.

The lights suddenly turned on

Several women inside

Singing time-wasting songs.

They were stuck in the dark

Their faces tear-stained

And they said to me

"You should have ran away"

"He's left us for ages."

"He will leave you for dead!"

"You let his sweet promises

Get to your head!"

"What will he do?" I ask.

"Nothing," they say,

"We are his little experiment!"

For how long it takes

humans to

wither away.

So trapped in a room

I stay

So trapped in a room

I wither away.

Finally.

My life was coming together.

But instead,

I have to live with my mistake

Forever.

A twisting blade is pushed into my back and I gasp

breath escapes me now and flutters out of reach

almost...

almost!

like a butterfly that simply

skips

just

far

enough

away

so that my desperate hands and my desperate lungs

both fall

just barely short

and I'm saying something,

and I'm wondering to myself what it is

maybe I'll never know

but I almost do and

it's almost a response to these words

that aren't mine, but for me

and I'm broken

never been more

b

r

o

k

e

n

except the blood brought by a blade is

fading fearsomely fast from

my mistaken, miserable mind and

I hear something I didn't want to hear because I know

It's the farthest thing from

and anything but

and absolutely not

true

and another twist from a blade buried deep in my back because I realize

what I'm saying is as blantantly untrue

and I'm a liar as well

and even more so

than who I'm listening to

because "It's okay"

is not the correct response to "I'm sorry"

when everything is definitely not okay.

But I stand and although I have been murdered,

absolutely obliterated, and I catch the butterfly breath because I am a liar

I do what my killer does not expect,

and wouldn't dare to yet hope from me.

I give a smile with my words

The young woman, just turned 18, had no idea what was about to happen. She had grown up knowing that there were monsters under the bed, monsters outside of the house, and sometimes monsters inside of the house. She had often wished for the strength to defeat those monsters, to walk around outside without fear. She was a victim of that fear, of the terror of the unknown. Would the strangers outside attack her? Would her father find another reason to be unreasonably angry at her? She did not know the answers to these questions, and that gave her more reason to fear. It was dark outside now, and she knew that most people would be falling asleep, feeling safe in their beds. But she did not have that luxury tonight. Soon, after the surroundings grew quiet, she would need to take care of the monster under her bed.

It hadn’t taken much effort, which had suprised her. For her entire life, her monster had seemed to be unbeatable, something so strong that she had thought she would never be able to win. But she had done it, and in a little while she would finish her mission. She knew that no one would find what remained of her monster, and that no one would ever know that she defeated it. But that was fine with her. If it let her sleep in peace at last, she wouldn’t mind being unknown.

Her neighbor’s body was starting to smell, and she knew she would need to dump it soon. She still needed to clean up the throw up that he had produced when he ate the posioned dinner she had served. He deserved to die, and she knew that no other little girl would have to suffer his degrading touch again.

What did he say

On that warm summer day

It's where was she led

That's what she said

His money and wealth

Took no account for her health

The pain and the shame

Though she fought as he came

The most nefarious deed

Forced upon her with his seed

A violation on her soul

She no longer felt whole

Though crushed now and broken

It seemed but a token

If they were even aware

But did they really care

Perhaps it's because

How they interpret those laws

Or why she nearly died

As she broke down and cried

All she got was a cold stare

From police who were aware

Of what she had gone through

What was she to do

But it was his word against hers

Such was her curse

On the police report it read

That's what she said...

(c) BAM

I always knew. . .

That in my youth I used my words like shackles to bind her into a yes

That she had no friends. And only wanted affection and respect.

I only wanted sex.

She heard paper thin compliments, choosing reluctant solitude; slut was never really a choice.

I only saw a face and lips, and would say anything to drown out her voice.

How much of her was never seen when only her skin mattered to me?

How much I missed because I only wanted a kiss, caring little of the girl who was behind those lips?

I only hope the fire in her eyes grew stronger with every sleazy lie from every boy between her thighs.

Because of her, I look back with shame, and understand the true marks and courage it takes; to be a man.

Light didn't reach here. It was dark and cold. My room. My prison. My captors led me here a long time ago. I had been an innocent child. Now I was part of human trafficking. Right now, I was in a room in the back of a store. My captors would lead rich men to me, where they would have their way. I had a client tonight. I had one almost every night, but this was a new man I think. I hoped he would be gentle. I still had cuts from the last man. I still needed time to prepare for him though.

A few hours later, I was ready. A soft knock caused the door to open, and I sat seductively on the bed. It was a man with a police badge out. Great I though. A fetish. I looked closer as he came in more. The badge looked really real...

"Police. Please put on clothes. We are removing you from the situation."

I was free. Free! I grabbed at my nightgown, and threw on a t-shirt and shorts. I smiled broadly as I was walked out.

It was the trial. I was the star witness.

"Miss Drake, you were held captive by these men?"

"Yes your honor."

A few hours later...

"Guilty!"

I was really free! I walked out jubilantly. I took three steps. Then bang. I fell. Pain enveloped my whole body.

"Got her boss."

I knew that voice. The mafia. I knew what had happened. Plan X. If they were caught, the mafia would kill the girls. I didn't think they would do it though. I yelled for help, then I shut my eyes. I didn't open them again.