Memoir Writing and Healing: May’s 2nd New Release

I’ve not graced my blog personally since at least the end of February some time. The odd book promo for other authors, or book reviews I’ve done, but nothing personal. I have been in a deep state of grieving the death of my mum, who was just seventy and looked more like fifty! And was so fit, healthy, and strong.

During all this grief I was led, more like pushed by her ( I know it was her) ,to share my story and confirmation of life after death in a memoir. Without spoiling it for anyone who may wish to dive in and read, if you’ve ever doubted or even thought there’s a possibility of life after death I’m here to add to the huge book market of real life accounts in the esoteric genre, and raise my had to say, ‘yep there really is such thing as life after death.’ This is probably the most important thing I’ve ever written. Detailed, well documented, and from the heart. Never again will I doubt if Mum’s guiding me, watching over me, or what happens when we die.

On pre-order now release date the 9th May 2021.

https://bit.ly/MemoirMyMumandMeMessagesFromBeyondTheGrave

About The Memoir:

“Life after death is no longer a ‘possibility’ for me, it’s a reality. It was proven within seventy-two hours of Mum passing away.”

Is there such a thing as life after death?

If you’ve been looking for confirmation that the soul of a deceased person lives on, this memoir will provide all the proof you need. Experience a life changing story—a loss of a mother who was overseas at the time of her passing, and how she found her way back to her daughter within seventy-two hours of her being pronounced dead, then made her visit from the spirit realm unquestionably known to her daughter here on Earth, in time and space.

What made me write this?

Well, as I mentioned in the book I never once imagined that I ever would write a memoir in my life. But, it was what happened within seventy-two hours of her passing. If I tell you, it will spoil it! But all I can say is that it has been a deeply rewarding, personal, and healing experience for me that I will never forgot. Each time I’ve read over it the experience of contact with the dead, without the use of spiritual mediums initially was really so profound, and special to me. Not only that, I feel that for anyone one who has an interest in life after death, wonders if it’s real, or who is grieving themselves now due to the loss of a loved one during the pandemic, this could really help give them some reassurance, that their loved one is always near.

I do hope that you’re all well, and safe during these challenging times we all continue to face.

Here Come The ‘Naughty’ Bunch!- 6 Erotic/steamy Authors! Try a New Author on Kindle Unlimited or .99p #amreading #erotica #kindleunlimited

erotica authors.jpgHe he.. I’m saving my guilty pleasure genre until last. Here are six different steamy and erotic authors, waiting to pleasure you… on Kindle Unlimited of course. If you’re not a member some might be just .99p. Please be over eighteen years old, I don’t want no one’s mama coming after me for being a bad influence. Grab your naughty reads, try something new.

CLICK THIS LINK TO HEAD TO THE BEDROOM, I MEAN BOOKS!

THROWBACK: ‘CHAINSAW RIDGE’ 18+ READING #KDSUSPENSE #HORROR @didi_oviatt

 

KD SUSPENSE 2019         Long overdue, a story extended by a few scenes by reader’s request from 2018. Be warned this one has a lot of gore… you voted for it!

Author One Scene One

“Alice!”

The voice is a blend of husky and shrill, like nails on a chalkboard. Alice cringes at the sound of it.

“Alice.” It repeats. “You better answer me, dammit!”

“Yes, Daddy.”

The rickety steel framed bed creaks as Alice rolls onto her side. She’s cradled by the dip in the overused and extremely stained mattress, that she’s been sleeping on for nearly twenty years. It’s the same bed she slept in as a toddler. A waft of her uncleansed flesh floats into the air with her movements. The sour pinch of the smell wins its competition with the week old garbage pile to her side. Alice mozies to the window of her bedroom to let a breeze in, as she listens to her crippled father’s voice. She knows full well what’s coming.

“My babies are starvin’, get yer fat ass out there and feed em’.”

“M’kay, Daddy.”

“We’re runnin’ low on chow,” he shouts through the thin wall separating them. “It’s time ya’ go ta’ town and pick up some feed.”

“‘M’kay, Daddy.” Alice answers his barking orders, completely numb to what the request entails.

“Well, get to it! An’ make it snappy. I wanna’ watch ya’ prep the meat before dark.”

“Yes Sir.”

Alice’s nose pleads for the fresh earthy scent of the white oak forest, that she can see in the distance. That luxury is denied, and only the rotten smell of her father’s pig farm bites into her room. They grunt and pop their jaws, searching their large shit filled pens for dinner. Directly below Alice’s window, everything about the hogs gives her nightmares. Especially what they’re fed. She complies with her father’s wishes either way.

At a very young age, Alice was taught exactly how much a pig can consume. Teeth, bone, everything. They don’t even shit out the evidence, their bodies absorb every last bit. After a while the horrid screams of her father’s victims became nothing but routine, a familiar sound fighting its way through the emotionless fog of her brain. The farm is secluded, miles from Chicago where the homeless pickens have always been abundant. She learned to tune out the screams very well…until his accident.

Alice was there when her daddy crashed, and so was the middle aged man knocked out in the back seat of the pickup. The man happened to be twice her size, so she had to take extreme measures to get the job done. It was the very day her father passed down his legacy, and the first day of his new life, bound to the restraints of a wheelchair.

The sounds of that day are what playback consistently in Alice’s head. Her daddy was trapped in the truck, smashed at the waist, and the stranger had been tossed out through the front window. Alice withstood the roll completely unscathed, leaving her to clean up the mess her daddy had started. The squeals of the tires and the crunch of metal and glass, were nothing compared to what came after they rolled.

“Do it, Alice.” His voice was younger then. Still husky, but with less of a scratch.

“You have to kill him, Alice! Do it! Do it before he wakes up!” Alice was only thirteen at the time. Her hands shook as she squeezed her body out of the broken glass of the truck’s windshield. In a panic she searched through the chaos of scattered shards, as they glistened in the summer sun. Thousands of tiny shining chunks covered everything from the back of the truck that had been tossed out, all over the pavement. Alice ran to a shovel, only to be shut down by the voice.

“You’re too small for that! Use your fuckin’ head!” Alice dropped the shovel, her body froze. She didn’t want to do it, but knew it was up to her. They lived in a very remote place, but they couldn’t risk being seen nonetheless. She also knew that if the stranger woke up, he’d likely get away. Although Alice was very large for her age, and strong, she was still much smaller than the man. A sharp jagged chain shimmered in the sun, calling to her. Alice shook her head, afraid of her own thoughts.

“Do it Alice!” Hesitation set in, she reached for it, her meaty fingers gripped tight around the handle of her daddy’s chainsaw. The pit of her stomach screamed out in horror. I can’t do it, she thought, I’m not ready yet. He yelled even louder from inside the smashed truck bed, while she stood staring at the stranger. Mute.

“Just fuckin’ do it, Alice!”

“Daddy I…”

“Do it now, before he fuckin’ wakes up!”

Alice swallowed the lump in her throat and pulled the chainsaw’s rope. She was no stranger to the tool having used it on the farm often, yet it still took her shaking arm a few tries. The buzz of the saw cut in and out, struggling its way to life. Rununununun, Runununununun.

“Do it!”

Finally the chainsaw’s roar became steady. Alice made her way  over to the man, her weapon vibrated both arms as she gripped it with every bit of strength she could muster. With ease, the saw chewed through the man’s flesh like butter. Scarlet chunks painted Alice’s face with a splat. She closed her mouth to keep the taste out, and wiped the wet pieces of him from her eyes with the long sleeve of her once floral print dress. Without missing a beat she went back to work. As soon as his head rolled away from his body she held the loud running saw to his middle.

The pieces of him had to be small enough for her to carry by herself. Her daddy’s voice bounded over the destruction of her running metal weapon. Chewed up chunks of intestines spilled onto the pavement, like bloody heaps of broken rope.

“Do it!”

As Alice remembers the sounds of that day, she stares at her daddy’s pigs. It’s a new bunch of animals. Most of the hogs that had eaten her first kill are now dead. Sliced into the bacon that fills the old power sucking freezer, in their dank basement.There’s only one of those particular hogs left. Alice recognizes this very pig because she watched the oval black spot on top of its back, as it chewed through the skull of that man’s severed head. Each bite with a crunch. It was a tiny piglet then, now it’s grey and aged.

“Alice!”

His voice cut through her again.

“Yeah, Daddy?”

“I said make it fuckin’ snappy!”

Author Two Scene Two

Alice sighs, and cut her eyes at her dad’s voice. He’s a mean old bastard, her daddy. Never one to show any compassion to anyone. All he cares about are his fat pigs. She remembers in her childhood, when he was not yet wheelchair bound, that he’d slept with them on the hay in the barn, right under her window. As if it were normal for folk to do that. When her mum was alive, Alice swore that’s what turned her crazy. An unloving husband more interested in intercourse… with pigs.

She shudders at the thought, and sight of it. She remembers well the day she walked in on him with his pants around his ankles, humping a pig in the ass, she felt disgusted. She ran out the barn screaming and confused, not sure what to make of it all. She reasoned with herself the best thing to do was to tell Mum. She laughed as she sat by the window with her grubby shawl wrapped over her shoulders, rocking in her chair, chain smoking cigarettes.

“Get used to it baby girl, that’s your father for you.”Was all her mum said. In a flat unmoved tone.

Gathering herself together and shaking off the early memories of her childhood, Alice walks over to the cracked mirror on the wall. She takes a deep look at herself. For a woman of twenty three years old she looks nothing like her peers. Compared to all the other women her age Alice is a state. She always wears her wavy dark brown hair in two French braids, her eyebrows are unattended to, they look more like caterpillars crawling across her face, rather than a set of threaded and plucked neat brows. Her skin is grey with lack of sunshine and vitamin D, she hardly leaves the house, it also has a slight dirty look to it. She’s far from fashionable, even if her father had the money for her to buy the latest trends, the mean tight fisted old bastard  probably would never allow it. She donned a plain grey sundress, no matter the weather come rain or sunshine. Her dirty off white ankle socks completes her look of an un-kept woman, clearly poverty stricken. On her feet as always are pair of worn brown sandals, Alice looks a woman trapped in a time warp.

“I’m on my way, Daddy.” She calls over her shoulder as she tears her eyes from her reflection.

“Good, like I said hurry the fuck up, they’re hungry an’ so am I.”

The sound of his voice as it  penetrates through the walls struck Alice differently this time, instead of fear she feels annoyance at his demanding, unappreciative ways. She’s waited on him hand and foot since he became wheelchair bound. How does he thank her? … He doesn’t, that’s the messed up thing about it. After she pulled him from the smashed up truck and saved his life, not to mention kept his ass out of prison by disposing of the stranger’s body, he has not once thanked her.

***

Alice makes her way down the dirt gravel road from her house then takes a left. She heads toward the town centre. It’s winter and the days have become chilly, she feels it as she pulls her worn cardigan tighter around her. The chill bites through her to the core of her bones. With her bare legs and low ankle socks she has no protection from the bitter air.

Alice looks around her as if seeing her neighborhood for the first time, through a new set of eyes. How has life just slipped away so quickly, the rhetorical question hangs between her and the open air. The years just rolled into one since her mum passed away. “Natural causes” the Dr. said, Alice found it hard to believe. Her mama was crazy yes, but apart from a slightly disturbed mind she was fit and well. It had crossed her mind at the time that maybe, just maybe, her dad had something to do with her death and “natural causes.” She pushes the thought away as she spots Bill up ahead.

“Hey Alice, what-chaya doin’?”

“Nothin’”

“Don’t look like nothin’ ta’ me.” Bill teases her as he runs over to her, and steps in line with her pace.

“I’m headin’ to town.”

“What for? An’ you walkin’ all that way?”

“Yeah, I’m walkin’”

“What for though, what ya need over there?”

“Chow.”

“Oh them damn pigs. You mean ta tell me ya father’s still got ‘em?”

“Yeah Bill, I swear he loves them more than me.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Hmm.” Is all Alice can say. Numb to any emotion regarding her dad.

“What-do- ya say we take a lil’ walk in the woods on the way?”

“Not today Bill, I gotta get goin’.”

“Oh C’mon, Alice… you love our walks in the woods.”

Bill takes Alice’s hand and leads her off the dirt road toward the woods. He’s hard already at the thought of slamming Alice up against the trees. One thing he likes about Alice is she’s an easy goer. She never talks much, not the intelligent type. She spread her legs and that’s all she needs to do, that is good enough for him. She likes to get fucked and has no problem with servicing two, even three men in the woods at a time. Often, he wonders what caused her to be so mute and unemotional when it comes to sexual relations. She seems unfazed by it all. Alice stops in her tracks and pulls her hand from his.

“Bill not today, I really gotta go.”

“It won’t take long, let’s go.”

Alice gives in with a sigh, she notices the twinkle in Bill’s eye as he smiles and walks ahead. She follows behind him into the depths of the woods.

***

Bill wastes no time as he grabs Alice’s hair and bends her over. He pulls the hem of her dirty dress up, then pulls her panties to one side. Alice holds onto the tree for dear life as he slams into her. Her mind goes blank as he thrusts in and out of her from behind, grunting and moaning. He slows himself down to hold back his climax, and slips out of her. He spins her around and put her back against the tree, he looks down at her with a smirk on his face. Bill is far from handsome. He has dirty blond hair cut short, a wide forehead with a thick nose. She never focuses on his looks when they are intimate in the woods. In fact, she’s never focused on any of the men’s looks she allowed to have their way with her. For her, sex allows her to not think or feel.  At least someone, anyone paid attention to her during the one on one sessions, or many three or foursomes she had with the town’s men.

“Ya ganna treat me nicely today Alice, maybe suck me off a bit?”

“Hmm, maybe.”

“Maybe, that’s not what I wanna hear.” Bill retorts as he pulls down Alice’s zipper at the back of her dress and slides it over her shoulders. She’s braless, as always. Her full breasts fall out and greet him. Bill massages over her breasts roughly as he stares down at her. The air is now so cold he can see his own breath as he speaks, the sight of Alice’s nipples hardening against to cool air hardens him more. He gives into temptation and lowers his mouth to her right breast, he takes her nipple in his mouth and begins to enjoy her. Alice tips her head back and lets out a slight moan. Her back arches against the tree as she allows him to take her into his mouth deeper.

Bill’s hand travels south, it makes its way between her legs. He forces her thighs open, and slides his middle finger inside her. He feels her slickness as he finger fucks her into heaven. Alice’s eyes rolls back as she bites her  lip, Bill slides in a second finger and fucks her within an inch of her life up against the tree, as he nibbles and enjoys her breasts at the same time. Alice pants and breathes heavy but that’s all he’d ever get from her.

For Alice secretly, this time things feel different with Bill. She feels a sense of satisfaction from the way his fingers worked her insides. Usually, her body would react in its normal way and she would become moist at his touch, however her internal feelings are always still numb. It’s like her body has its own mind. Today she feels alive internally.

“Do I make you feel good Alice?”

“Hmm”

“You like that?”

“Hmm.”

Bill laughs at Alice’s response, or lack of it. He ups his game a little, he removes his hands from between her thighs, then drops to his knees. With the hem of her dress pulled up she is on show for him, all of her. Without a second thought he leans into her and put his mouth between her thighs to taste her slickness.

“Ohhhh.”

Alice loses herself control, for the first time she becomes verbally expressive.

Bill, gets off on the reaction he causes from the usually mute Alice. He buries his head between her legs, and with his mouth set to work. He’d never given Alice head before, he usually saved that for girls that actually mean something. He’s had enough of Alice’s distant mute reactions, she’s now  a challenge sexually to get her to react to his touch. He pulls back to tease her and looks up at her. Alice smiles down at him, with a very satisfied look on her face.

Alice slides down the tree onto the wet grass. She spreads her legs for Bill. For a moment Bill stands in front of her, and stares at her mound inviting him in. Alice slides her hand between her legs and starts to masturbate herself in a vicious way. Bill drops to his knees. He gladly obliges and continues to service her with his mouth. As he dips in and out of her with his tongue, and licks slowly and softly the tip of her clitoris, Alice fondles her own breasts. He watches in excitement as she squeezes, pinches and plays with herself.

Bill feels like he is going to explode in his pants. He is more eager to explode on her ass.

“Get up, turn around.”

“Hmm.”

“Alice, you heard me get up and turn around c’mon I gotta go soon.”

Alice does as she is told and moves onto all fours. With her ass in the air he enters her from behind and pumped away until he exploded…. On her bare ass.

***

“Alice, Alice I’ve been waitin’ over one God damn hour for you. Where ya’ been?

“Nowhere Daddy.”

“Nowhere, don’t fuckin’ lie to me.”

Alice stands frozen at the entrance of the house. The musty smell of the house is drowned out by her fear. It  runs deeply through her, has she really been gone that long. Bill took her by surprise today, she never knew he could do what he did with his mouth, at twenty three years old she has no real girlfriends to learn from. Men never offered to do that before. She hears her dad wheeling his chair into the hallway. He stops opposite her.

“Where ya been?”

“Nowhere, Daddy–”

“Well that’s not the right fuckin’ answer is it? I sent you to town for the God damn chow an’ some food, ya come back here an’ tell me ya been nowhere? After ya been gone a fuckin’ hour?”

“I got it Daddy I got it, well I got the food but forgot the chow I’ll go back.”

Alice’s dad slowly wheels his chair closer to her, his face twists into a mean scowl. He  picks up a wooden stick that is within reach as he rolls forward. Pointing in Alice’s direction he begins to curse her.

“You… ya little bitch, ya forgot ma’ damn chow.”

“Daddy please no, don’t, not the stick, it hurts.”

“Hurts? Hurts? I’ll show you what fuckin’ hurts means.”

“Aww Daddy no, no please.”

“What… what is that? What the fuck is that smell? Alice ya smell even more disgustin’ than usual. Have ya been in the woods again. Fuckin’ boys again?”

“No Daddy.”

“No Daddy.”  He mocks in a whining voice.

“Slut!”

Alice feels the full throttle of her dad’s anger as he beats her with the wooden stick that came loose from the stair banister. It has sat in the corner of the hallway for months.

“Daddy no, please.”

A flashback of all the times Alice had walked the two miles to town in rain, snow, and anything in between comes flooding back to her. Her anger builds over the way her dad treated her mother, causing her to lose her mind.

“You, yoooou!  You pervert fuckin’ pigs in the barn, you deserve to be in a wheelchair. After all I’ve done for you, this is how you thank me?”

“Alice you better watch… ya… mouth.” Tom responds as he beat her three times to punctuate his words.

“Fuck you! You freak.”

Before Alice can even live to regret her actions, her dad is overturned on the hard dirty wood floor of the hallway. She yanked the stick from his hand with such a force his chair overturned. Tom’s face moulds from anger to fear in the space of seconds as Alice takes control. He looks up at his only daughter as she stands above him. The rise and fall of her chest and deep breathing are enough to let him know his luck has run out, when it comes to bullying Alice. She points the wooden stick at him as she speaks down to him.

“Now, you’re gonna to be taught a little lesson, Daddy dear.”

“Alice, you don’t know what ya doin’. I’m your father.”

“Haha father!” Alice throws her head back mocking him with laughter. “You wouldn’t know how to be a father if it jumped up and spat in ya ugly face!”

“Alice, c’mon now.” Tom pleads as he attempts to crawl away from her with his hands.

“Where do you think, you’re going?” Alice pulls back her arms in the style of a baseball player and strikes her father across the back.

Whack!

“ Awww! Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittttt! Alice for God sake will you get me off the floor?”

“No, it’s time you learned a little lesson of your own, you shit for brains piss poor excuse of a husband and father. Wait here, oh sorry I forgot YOU’RE A FUCKIN’ INVALID YOU CAN’T MOVE!”

Alice lets out a roar of laughter as she swings the bat back and beats her father around the head, face, ribs and groin area. Blood splatters all over her and the walls of the narrow damp infested hallway. Just like it had all those years ago when he made her saw off that poor stranger’s head. She hears every crack of a bone, pop of of his skull and break of his jaw. She loves it. It feels rejuvenating, after all the years of his bullshit.

“Alice, please, don’t do this please I’m–”

“Shut up! Just Shut up”

Whack!

“Awww fuck me Alice, Jesus, ya can’t do this” Tom strains to speak his slurred words through a cracked jaw.

“Poor mama, the poor woman lost her damn mind over you ya piece a-shit. Treated her like dirt, when really you were dirty, a pig fuckin’ dirtbag at that. Take that ya bastard.”

Whack!

Just like that, Tom’s lights go out. He’s gone. Bloody, barely recognisable and in Alice’s eyes pathetic looking. For fun, she hitches up her skirt and pisses all over him.

“There, that’ll teach you, Daddy.”

Pulling the hem of her dress down she stomps into her Daddy’s barn.

                                                                         ***

It was tough but she did it, she managed to drag her father’s lifeless and bloody body through the back door, out into the dark late evening and into the barn. There she places down some sheets of plastic her father had left around and dumps him on top. Alice is covered in blood it’s matted her French braided hair, and smeared itself all over her face and hands. There she stands, in the barn with the pigs going wild to her left. Hungry and acting like savages in their cage at the smell of fresh blood.

Ruuuum rummmmmmm! Rummmm rummmmm!

Alice lifts her father’s chainsaw with a lot more ease than she did when she was thirteen, She slices down on his thigh just above his knee, a smile of pleasure a crack of laughter rings out as she watches her dad’s left leg fall away from his body. Into the wee hours of the night, Alice chops up her father into bite sized chunks and feeds his sorry ass to his beloved pigs. They devour him, every last bone.

                                                                             ***

 

Five Years Later:

Alice stands at the window  and watches for Bill on his return home. She listens out for his nosey truck making its way up the dirt road. She centres her mind to the present day, after she re-lives her night in the barn five years ago, and the night she drummed up a theory about her father’s disappearance, once she fed him to the pigs and cleaned up. All these years later word around town is, he had a terrible “freak accident” and must have fell into the river, as he hit a rock with his wheelchair, while he took an early morning “stroll” by the creek, before she woke up. Well, at least that’s what the police thought after they found his wheelchair overturned by the creek, with no one’s prints on it but his.

Alice takes a deep breath and looks down at her husband’s shirt. He’s been at it again, a smudged lipstick mark is on his collar. She never cared for lipstick and cosmetics, Alice is not that kind of woman. She tried for a couple of years, but it didn’t last long before she let herself go again. She never mastered the art of beautifying one’s self. For two months now she’s restrained herself to not cause a fuss over her suspicions about Bill and his floozy. Until now she’s felt lucky to have Bill, he stuck by her after her father had his “accident”, when she was left all alone. They got married six months after her dad disappeared, while no children have appeared yet she is hopeful. That would be fucked up with another woman in the picture. Of late, Bill seems distant, and uninterested. Secretly her inner voice keeps pushing her… if he comes home again smelling of perfume, or with makeup on his shirt, he’d meet a terrible fate in the barn just like her dad did.

Right on cue, Bill pulls up outside the house and jumps out his truck. Alice grits her teeth, narrows her eye, then moulds her face into the loving welcoming wife. She hides his shirt in her closet and makes her way downstairs to the front door. It swings open just as she reaches the bottom.

“Hey Bill, how was your day?” Alice greets him in her most friendly, loving wifey voice.

“Ah same old, just work, work, work. What’s for dinner?” Alice narrows her eyes, as she watches him walk past, he smells of cheap perfume. She follows him with her gaze as he makes his way into the kitchen.

“ Dinner? Oh… something reaaaaaaal special baby, just you wait and see.”

Author One Scene Three

Slop… Alice chucks a bucket of table scraps over the fence, along with newly tossed away animal parts from a local butchers compound heap just out of town. The chow is devoured in a matter of minutes. She watches as her ten new little piglets chomp the skin, and crunch the bones of freshly discarded animal carcass. The smell is atrocious. But, at least the babies are cute, she thinks.

Just as she’s about to turn a heel and make her way back across the field to her house, an arm snakes around her middle. The warmth of his skin shocks her. Not only because it’s unexpected, but because she hasn’t felt such intimacy in his touch for weeks. Alice closes her eyes and leans into him. The grunting sound of her piglets ring  a sweet tune in her ears. Soon, she daydreams in Bill’s arms, soon it’ll just be us again.

“You’re home early.” Alice says, relishing the feel of his chest against her cheek, and the sound of his heart as it beat in her ear.

“Yeah.”

His voice crawls through her veins, and confirms that she made the right choice. She loves Bill, it’s his bitch that has to go.

“God, it stinks out here.” He said. “Why you gotta’ feed ‘em that shit anyway?  Can’t you give ‘em somethin’ a little less disgustin’?”

“It’s free, and they need the protein. They’re growin’ so it’s the best thing for ‘em.”

Alice’s lies roll off of her tongue with ease. Pigs can eat anything. She’s only giving them such an unthinkable diet because she’s prepping their digestive systems. It’s one trick that her father taught her well. She doesn’t want the pig’s bellies to reject the real meat she plans to give them. Her intention is to toughen them up. Hopefully she only has to do it once.

After weeks of mental confusion and debate, the decision has been made. Bill’s little fling has to die. She’d followed them, and has her plot all mapped out. She’ll do it as soon as her pigs are big enough to dispose of the woman’s fat ass. In the meantime, she waits and continues to feed her pigs. Twiddling her thumbs as she  regains her own personal self-worth while they grow.

“I still can’t believe you wanted ‘em. I know how bad ya’ hated growin’ up on your father’s pig farm.”

“Yeah, well. I’m not my daddy.”

Her ghostly sigh lowers her shoulders a few inches. Admitting her excitement for a kill was be like admitting to any sort of similarity to her father. The thrill is undeniably there, but Alice will never relish on it… not even to herself.

“I guess they just remind me of my mum,” more lies, “I really miss her.”

“Well then, if pigs make you happy, then pigs you shall have.”

Bill teases playfully, then releases her from his grasp only to slap an open palm on the lower side of her left ass cheek. He giggles, then follows the gesture with a quick but juicy peck on the lips. Alice is in heaven, even with the stench of dead animal only inches away. She misses her husband’s good humour. It has  been missing from their relationship for too long. Alice doesn’t know what brought on Bill’s sudden change of banter, but she knows that she can’t let the moment pass. A slug to the shoulder is offered before she takes off in a sprint back to the house. Over her shoulder she shouts at him.

“You’re it!”

Just as they reach the porch, Bill scoops Alice into his arms. Rolling laughter is cut short by an awkward snort in the back of his throat. Alice wraps her arms around his neck and lets him carry her across the threshold, just as he had the night they were wed. The weak floorboards creak under his feet. He lowers her slowly, and he allows his hands to explore the length of her bare legs as she regains her own balance.

Bill takes a long look at his wife. She’s been different since he let her buy the pigs. A sexy confidence has been restored. There’s something about the way she let her hair back out of their regular braids, she wears it long and wavy, just as she did after the incident with her father. The independent and determined air about her is irresistible to Bill. The lively spark in her devilishly dark eyes, intoxicating. Even her brows are manicured again into two perfectly curved lines. He knows her father didn’t disappear, because we watched her that night. And in the five years he’s been married to Alice he hasn’t said a word. Her daddy was a miserable man, and had it coming. Bill watched Alice close, and saw first hand her transformation. She cleaned up,  applied herself and cared about her looks for a short while. The shyness melted away. The changes in her were fascinating and utterly irresistible.

It wasn’t until about a year ago, when she  slipped back to her old looks and careless ways that he began going out and drinking at night. By the time Nancy came along, Bill was so distanced from Alice that he was numb. He felt like he’d already lost his wife as the strong woman she’d become after knocking off her daddy. Nancy was and still is an outlet, a way to escape his fears if he loses Alice for good.

The pigs have changed everything. Bill knows without a doubt that Alice has to be up to something, but he doesn’t care what. Hell, he’d even help her with whatever endeavor she’s got up her sleeve. Whatever it takes to get his wife back. Even death won’t stop him. He’s seen her kill before, and in all honesty the whole thing only turned him on. Just a couple more fucks with Nancy and he’d break it off.  Alice is finally coming back to him and that’s all he needs.

Their kiss is electrifying, just like the first real kiss he’d given her in the woods. Bill shoves his tongue deeper into her mouth, and hardens instantly at the sound of her wanting moan. Alice is wearing a skin tight button up jean dress that stops at the knees. It’s too tight for him to merely lift the bottom to access her, and there’s no time for foreplay. He wants her, now. He needs it, they both do. The rise and fall of her chest, and the pounding heart in his, tells him that she’s ready. It’s a pleasure he’s been denied for too long.

The passion of the moment is heating Bill’s core and boiling his blood. Strong hands grab at the buttons covering the centre of her breasts, and he rips. Buttons snap, and fall to the cheap linoleum floor with ting ting ting. Bill takes in the sight of his wife’s naked skin as the denim falls from her shoulders into a heap on the floor. Her ample breasts stare back at him, naked and full. He lifts her onto the kitchen counter with ease before tugging his belt from its loops in one swift movement, and freeing his long stiff cock from the restraint of his old stained jeans.

Alice is wet and ready to take in every inch of her animalistic husband. She slides her ass to the edge of the counter and spreads her legs wide granting him access. A deep gasp of air is sucked in with shock as he forces himself inside of her. It causes her back to arch as she lets her head fall behind her shoulders, and her mouth to open. His pumps are rough and hit the very spot she’s been longing to feel. It doesn’t take long for the pressure built up inside, and for her intimacy to crash around him. The release is intoxicating, and Bill pulls her body against his. Drinking her in like a forbidden fruit. He continues to push and grind himself against the soaking slick walls of her centre until the dynamic simulation can no longer be contained. He explodes violently, then carefully lowers them both to the floor to relax and catch a breath.

                                                                                ***

It’s been two months since Alice and Bill began to rekindle their passion for one another, yet he’s still been going out late at night to see her. Alice is fuming. She enjoys her husband’s touch and knows with every ounce of energy flowing through her body that he loves her back. It’s even written all over his face when he’s with Nancy. Alice dresses down to her old grey dress and watches them from the shadows. She sees the way Bill looks at the floor, and the way he avoids the touch of his mistress. The distancing is all too familiar, and the memory of him treating her the same way, makes Alice cringe.

In a weird unexplainable way Alice is actually glad the he hasn’t stopped seeing Nancy. It gives her an excuse. A reason to stalk the bitch. And, it justifies the want and need that Alice has to see the woman suffer. The pigs are finally big enough, tonight is the night. Bill told Alice that he’d be going out with the guys and not home till late. So, when he bids farewell to Nancy early, Alice knows that this is her chance.

Crouched down behind an old beat up Chrysler, Alice waits. She’s close enough to hear the hum of her husband’s voice.

“I told you, Nancy. I won’t be able to meet up with you at all next week. I’m busy.”

Alice grins to herself.

“But I miss you,” Nancy wines. “It seems like you don’t want to be with me anymore.”

Silence greets Alice and she holds her breath. Listening, and waiting for her chance to slip into the bed of Nancy’s pickup.

“I. I. I don’t know what I want.” Bill stutters and lets out a sigh.

“All right well… whenever you’re ready I’ll be here.”

The annoyed defiance bleeds through the cracking of Nancy’s already high in pitched voice. Alice rolls her eyes and thinks, no you won’t bitch, by the time I’m done there will be nothin’ left of your stank home wreckin’ ass.

“All right.” Bill mumbles.

The sound of Bill’s clumpy boots trail off in the direction of the bar they just came out of. Back in to meet up with his friends no doubt. Alice creeps behind the car that’s concealing her and just as the engine of Nancy’s truck roars to life, she slips into the bed of it. She lodges herself between the cab of the truck and a large toolbox.

Alice knows that the drive won’t be long. She knows exactly where Nancy lives, and has her own truck parked a few blocks away. Waiting for them both.

                                                                                        ***

Nancy’s eyes slowly creep open, and the first thing she can feel is the thick rolling drop of wet blood down the side of her round face. It sticks to the tiny peach fuzz hairs that frame her chin. The instinct to wipe at the wetness is interrupted by the heavy restraints of her wrists. She wriggles and squirms, with her heavily made-up eyes still half closed, and her thickly lipsticked mouth  taped shut. Her vision snaps to fully alert as she remembers the last thing she’d seen before the lights went out was Alice — inside her home holding a baseball bat.

Nancy struggles for air, drawing in shallow breaths from her nose as the oxygen to her mouth is closed completely off. She can’t scream, only a muffled noise as if she’s yelling  underwater cuts quietly in the air.

They’re in a dank wooden shed with a concrete floor covered in dirt, pig shit, and scattered clumps of straw. Shovels, hoes, and saws are leaning up against one of the old cracked wooden walls. Nancy is chained down to the a large metal chair that’s bolted into the floor. She thrashes around as the distorted image of Alice standing over her with a chainsaw comes into focus.

Alice pulls at the starting cord of her weapon. Rummmmm rummm rummmm. It struggles to fire to life. She gives it another tug, but before it can light up, the wooden door behind her swings open. Nancy again struggles to yell, pleading with her tear soaked eyes. Bill stands in the doorway, but the lack of shock in his surprisingly amused gaze takes both Nancy and Alice by surprise.

“Bill!” Alice gasps.

“Hey sexy.”

Bill talks to Alice as if it were any regular day. Nancy is stunned, chained down like a rabid beast awaiting her deadly fate. Still gasping for air, and growing more petrified by the minute, all she can do is watch her lover with his insanity stricken wife.

“I thought you’d be home late.” Alice said, letting the chainsaw in her hands nearly drop to the floor.

“What? You think I didn’t see those ugly old sandals lurking around underneath that Chrysler at the bar?”   

“I um, I…” Alice is at a loss for words. “But, why… I mean, did you…”

Bill chuckles under his breath, excitement rising in his chest like the ocean tide. Arousal at the heinous sight before him is a pleasant surprise. He’d imagined the fire in Alice’s eyes as she murdered her dick-of-a-father all this time. Dreamed of the passion in her twisted face.

“Well…” he laughs at her stutter. “Don’t let me stop you.”

“But Bill… I. I.”

Alice watches her love closely as he walks past her and begins to circle her prey. He looks down his nose at her like a piece of meat. He stops between the two of them, and with one hand slid casually in a pocket, he scratches at the stubble on his chin with the other.

“Alice, I know what you did to your dad. I watched.”

Again, Alice turns mute, as Bill’s eyes smile from his cheeks.

“It’s okay, Alice, my love. I love this about you.”

Then he turns to Nancy and gives her the full evil grin that until this night he’d hidden from them both. The excited wrinkles around Bill’s eyes show both the women his eager anticipation. He steps aside and leans against a wall of the shed. He sweeps an arm in front of himself and continues to speak to his loving wife. The woman he is still ready to spend the rest of his life with. The woman he admires, and that excites him. The woman ready and willing to kill for him, just to keep him for herself. The woman he will clean up after and fuck all night while the blood of his dead lover is still fresh on her skin.

“I didn’t know how to get rid of Nancy anyway, my love. Proceed.”

Alice locks her eyes on his. For a moment unsure of his intentions. The wanting admiration in his eyes as he looks into hers tells it all. Still without words, Alice pulls the chainsaw’s chord.

Author Two: Scene Four

Rummm rum, rumm rumm.

Alice swallows hard as her eyes remain locked with Bill’s. The scene in front of her sends a pang of want between her legs, Bill’s gaze the lustful ‘I need you now’ look he used to bless her with in the early days of their marriage has returned. Alice carefully places her beloved chainsaw down on the ground beside her, its hum in the  background exciting her further. Bill shifts his weight and draws himself up to his full height, Alice makes her way over and stands under his gaze. There is no need for words to be exchanged between the two of them, they read each other’s mind as a menacing smile creeps across both of their faces. Alice and Bill move their eyes back over to their prize, Nancy strapped securely to the metal chair.

“Go on Alice, don’t be shy now.”

Alice peeks up at Bill slowly moving her eyes from Nancy to his broad chest, upward to look him in the eye. Both of her hands cup his face as she embraces him, then blesses him with a full on passionate kiss. Bill returns her passion without hesitation, his hands make their way round to her ample behind as she pulls her in closer to him. Alice feels the bulge against his jeans as his manhood strains to contain itself in his trousers. Slowly she grinds her hips up against him, teasing him.

“Mmm, Alice you better make quick work of her. I got plans for you.” Bill playfully slaps Alice’s behind and spins her around to face Nancy. Nancy sits trembling in her chair, even from a distance her fear is visible. Panic sets in, pleading with her eyes and  mumbles from behind the tape over her mouth. Alice gives no mercy.

“Right, ya little homewreakin’ slut!”

“Mmm mmmm mm”

Alice stamps her way over the Nancy and rips off the tape from her mouth in one swift quick motion, drawing blood and lipstick along with it from her bottom lip.

“What was that you said?”

“Alice, please listen to me it was just–”

“Fuccccccccccck you, Nancy!” Alice draws back her open palmed right hand.

Whack

Nancy’s face flies to Alice’s left from the force of her slap, leaving a red palm mark as a souvenir on Nancy’s right cheek.

“Now, open your Goddamn legs. I’ll teach you to fuck with my man.”

***

Bill’s stomach churns as she watches Alice do away with his one time lover. He feels no guilt, instead he has a hardon that seems to grow throughout the entire scene. Nancy is toast, completely unrecognisable her bodily remains scattered around the shed. He watches closely as Alice dismembers the last piece of Nancy.  Impatience gets the better of him, removing his shirt he walks over to Alice and surprises her from behind, as she’s bent over Nancy’s body. Standing directly behind her he places his hard bulge up against her and closes his eyes as he rubs up against her. In his mind’s eye he relives the vision of Alice dismembering Nancy. The blood, flesh, smell of the kill all sending testosterone through his body like wildfire. As he rubs himself up against Alice,  Alice keeps busy with her chainsaw. Over the loud hum of the machine Bill speaks up.

“That’s enough Alice, she’s good and done now.”

“What?”

“Let her be Alice, I can think of better things to do.”

Alice shuts off the chainsaw, wipes her brow with the back of her bloody hand and straightens up pushing her back against Bill further.

“Better things to do?” Alice teases Bill.

Bill responds by reaching around and unbuttoning her dress, as usual Alice is bra- less. As her breasts fall out he wastes no time as he cups both of her them wet, and covered in blood. Alice throws her head back slightly and drops the chainsaw.

“Bill.”

“Hmmm.”

“Nothing, don’t stop.”

Alice’s hoarse breathless voice urges Bill on. He rips open her dress. The coolness against Alice’s skin soaked with Nancy’s blood arouses her. With one hand busy caressing her left breast, Bill’s right hand snakes its way down between her legs. His fingers find the exact spot he knows will drive her wild. Alice’s moans of pleasure are music to his ears.  He wants to worship her and show her that it has always been her that he wanted and needed. Nancy was just a phase.

He spins her around and in one swift movement picks her blood soaked naked body up, and places her on the concrete floor of the shed. Blood, body parts, it doesn’t faze either of them, it adds to the ambiance of their love making . A fresh new experience for them both. Kneeling between Alice’s legs, Bill unbuckles himself allowing his strong erection to spring free. Placing one of Alice’s legs on his shoulder he rubs himself up against her opening, before he slides into her slowly, making a full connection, they become one. Rocking slowly enjoying every stroke, Bill watches Alice’s expression light up the moment he makes full contact with her.

“Billllllllllllllllllllll, jez!”

At Alice’s moan of pleasure, Bill moves up a gear as he penetrates her deeply placing both legs on his shoulders. In the background the pigs are nosey spectators, above their grunts for food Bill slides Alice around the blood splatter on the floor and brings her to  an earth shattering climax.

This was the first night of a new era for them. A spree of death, and elated passion is ahead. Alice and Bill will soon grow as a team, terminators, the worst kind of killers at their finest. This night is one that will never be forgotten, and will forever change the lives of everyone in their deadly path.

 Oh my God this one was something totally out of my comfort zone to write. Thank you for reading ,and the writing prompt challenge from both of us! Stay tuned voting for writing prompts in 2019 will open soon!

Week #5 Short Story: A Miracle Baby. ((And Announcment from Kim & Didi) #kdsuspense #amreading

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Author One Scene One

The newspaper is thick and crunches heavily in my hand as I wad it into a tight ball, and squeeze it in my tired overworked fingers. The outhouse is dark and the smell makes me nauseous. Everything makes me nauseous. I’m guessing myself to be a couple months along, but it’s hard to tell. There are only three things I know with absolute in my life right now. One, there’s is definitely a baby growing in my sixteen year old belly. I feel it move and I’m even starting to show. Two, it’ll never be accepted. Even less so than myself, if that’s possible. And three, I’ll have to take Jesse up on his offer to take me far away from this place… eventually.

“Adsila!” My mother shouts.

“Yes, Momma?”

I yell back at her before I use the thick newspaper to wipe. Then I stand to adjust my knickers under my layered green striped dress.

“Adsila. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Momma’s speed walk carries her in my direction, chickens scattering at her feet.

“We’ve got a lot of work ta’ do today, that corn ain’t gonna pick itself.”

As I step out of the outhouse, a different rancid smell consumes my nostrils. I’m downwind from the beef and we just had a massive rainstorm. It’s not as bad as the smell inside, but the switch from one bad scent to another hits me like a twister, nearly causing me to either faint or throw up. My body can’t decide which need is the stronger. Instinctively I hold out a steadying hand and lean against the old cracked wood of the outhouse door, to aid in holding myself upright. I look up at mama with pleading eyes, willing her to cut me some slack from the chores.

“Adsila, my blossom, are you okay? You look sick.”

My momma is a very beautiful woman in her late forties. She’s muscular and her once smooth pale skin has leathered by the sun, but she’s pretty nonetheless. Blossom is the meaning of my Cherokee name, and every time my momma says it I can see the love and reassurance in that concerned wrinkle between her eyes. She told me once that she named me Adsila as a sign of hope for us, because the most beautiful flowers blossom in the hardest ground. They’re tough, and so are we. Momma is white and was engaged once to a confederate soldier. After riding four weeks to meet up with him, she wound up raped and beaten within an inch of her life in the middle of an unexpected battle.

To her fiance, it didn’t matter what she’d been through, or that it was an attempt to visit him that brought her there in the first place. The man saw her as ruined. She was dirtied by an Indian, so he left her behind on the battlefield to rot. She’d been taken in by an elderly Cherokee woman. She picked up bits and pieces of the language, and grew to love the people.

Momma quickly learned that the man who’d raped her was an outcast in the tribe, and the only one of their men who would do such a thing to a woman. Rape was deeply frowned upon by the elders, and no one grieved for the man when he died in the same battle that he’d ‘ruined’ my momma. Just over nine months later, I was born with full square cheekbones, thick dark hair, and the purest olive Native skin. Momma stuck with the Cherokee people until I was three before settling on our makeshift ranch on her own. The people she loved and called family we’re being pushed west, and picked off regularly. Being alone with an Indian child was a big risk, but so was staying with them.

Our ranch sits on a vast prairie land in Tennessee. Our home is small and we barely keep enough animals to get us by, but we’ve made it this far. There’s a town a day’s ride from us, but we don’t make the trip very often. Mainly because I’m not welcome. Most of our supplies are brought to us by the women in town. They come to our ranch for Momma’s famous “mud”, or so she calls it. After spending so much time with the Cherokee people, they taught her many things about plant life. She has a green thumb, and is seen as a healer of sorts. No matter the rash, wound, fever or sickness, Momma can mix up something to help. It’s the only thing that’s kept the townsfolk from coming out merely to slit my throat in my sleep. They’re not too keen on allowing Indians to stick around. Even young ones. I keep to myself with my eyes at the ground. Except with Jesse.

“Sorry Momma. I’m okay, just a little sick.”

“You get sick a lot.”

Momma stares at me with her hands on her hips, just waiting for the confession. She knows I’m pregnant. She has to, it’s getting obvious. But, I still haven’t actually told her, and she’s the type of woman to wait for me. She’s tough, but when it comes down to it, we’re a team. She isn’t going to force it out of me until I’m ready to talk. I remove my hand from the outhouse door and force myself to stand up tall despite the swirl in my guts.

“I’ll be okay, Momma. I’m sure it’s the heat.”

“The heat,” she rolls her eyes, “yeah.”

Momma reaches up to tuck a long thick strand of my black hair behind my ear. After moving it from my face she takes a long look into my guilty eyes.

“If you’re sure you feel okay, we really do need ta’ tend ta’ the crops.” She says a little gentler than before.

“Okay Momma.”

“I tell ya’ what,” Momma starts. “If we get all this corn down before the sun drops, then tomorra’ we’ll take a day off and go into town.”

“Town?” My head snaps up.

As much as I hate the people in town, our trips are always bitter sweet. Momma holds her head high and marches us from shop to shop. I get to pick out something nice, and as long as I don’t make eye contact with anyone the abusive comments are usually minimal.

“Well, I was thinkin’ we could pick out some new material and make ya’ another dress or two. What do you think about that?”

She definitely knows. I look down at the stretched material around my middle and nod. This must be her way of making me talk. I’ll have to tell her while we measure me and sew I’m sure of it.

“‘Kay,” I agree, a little embarrassed. “Let’s get to it Momma.”

The chickens cluck and scatter as we make our way to the small fenced off corn field. I’m in the middle of filling my second basket of freshly plucked ears of corn, when the sound of a galloping horse pierces into my eardrums. The butterflies in my chest are confused with the sinking feel of a rock in my stomach. I never know what to expect with visitors. Please be him, I think, please be my Jesse.

“Ms Hattie!?” The voice is deep, and definitely  does not belonging to Jesse.

I let my hair swoop back to its usual place, covering a quarter of my face. The man is clearly drunk, as he struggles to swing a foot to dismount from his horse. He ties the animal to a post of our fence by its reins. Momma straightens her back and sashes proudly in his direction. Ready to face the world.

“Where’s he at, Hattie?” he slurs. “I know my boy’s been foolin’ ‘round with that mix breed of yours.”

Momma lets out a sigh, she knows how bad this can turn and how fast, but she keeps her composure.

“Sherif, why don’t you let me pack a few ears of this fresh corn in your pack, and send you off  with some coffee. We haven’t seen your son.”

I keep my hands busy, picking corn and placing them in the basket. Jesse’s dad hates me even worse than the rest of the townsfolk. Especially when he drinks. Momma reaches a kind hand for Sherif Brink’s shoulder. He throws it aside and marches at me full force, like a bull ready charge.

“Where’s my boy?”

His breath is thick with bourbon, it nearly makes me gag. A light spray of spit showers my face.

“I haven’t seen Jesse, sir.” I speak to the dirt at my feet.

“Bull shit!” He shouts, before reaching down and wrapping his fingers around a rock. He stands back up tall, “He didn’t show up, you mutt. Jesse was supposed to help me at the jailhouse today, and he never came. He ain’t home neither.”

Momma has been on his heels since he began swaying to my direction.

“Sheriff put down the rock.” Her voice is firm. “What in the world do you plan on doin’ with that?”

“You shut up!” He demands, pointing a finger in Momma’s face. “Answer my question mut!”

“I don’t know sir, maybe he forgot.” I plead, my eyes glued to the rock in his fingers.

Thwack. Everything goes blank.

***

My vision begins to focus, Momma’s face transforming from two to one and the blur lifts. As my consciousness regains I feel a thick wet warmth down my legs. I must have been out for a while because I’m lying in my bed and a familiar hand is laced tightly in my fingers. I try to speak, but my voice catches in my dry throat. I want to tell her. I want to tell her, but I can’t form words. As my eyes roll back in my head and I start drifting back away, I listen. His voice is deep and sweet, it warms me through the cold dark pain.

“Ms Hattie, please,” Jesse pleads. “Please tell me me she’s gunna’ make it.”

“I don’t know Jesse. If you hadn’t have showed up when you did he woulda’ kept kickin’ her.”

“Oh my God, she’s bleeding” he cries. “The baby.”

Again darkness consumes me.

***

“Adsila, my love?” I whisper her name.

“Yeah?” Her voice is smooth.

The grass is soft under our backs and the sun is blinding above us. Her hand is small and warm in the palm of mine. My heart thumps as I look down at her rapidly growing belly. She’s due anytime. My father hasn’t been to her ranch since the incident, thank God.

“When are we going to talk about leavin’?” I ask, for the hundredth time, hoping that just maybe this time she’ll listen.

“We can’t Jesse. You know I can’t leave Momma.”

I watch closely, completely relaxed as she rubs her free hand over our miracle that’s somehow still alive. My mind races back to that day. The day my father nearly killed them both. I shudder, and close my eyes tightly.

“What if someone sees the baby? What if he comes back?” I plead.

I want more than anything to take my beautiful Adsila, my blossom, away from this place. I would have left two years ago, the day I turned eighteen had she agreed to come with me. But she won’t. I understand her need to stay with Hattie, I do. But, how are we going to hide a little one?

“I know we have to go, Jesse.” She finally admits. “They’ll find a way to take her I know they will. But we need Momma. I can’t have this baby without her and we both know it.”

“Her?” I sit up, and smirk. She grins back at me, her tall cheeks lift even higher.

“It’s a girl, I just know it.”

Author Two Scene Two

“Oh yeah? Is that so?” I mock her in a playful tone. “What happens if it’s a boy?”

“Then I’ll be just as happy, as long as it’s healthy.”

“Yeah, me too.”

I turn my attention from the blue sky above us and look at my one true love. She’s beautiful, no matter what my dad or any of the town’s people say. Her black hair, coco coloured skin, full lips and bright brown eyes blow me away. I don’t understand it, I don’t understand the hostile attitude toward her just because of who she is. She never asked to come into this world as she did, as a product of a rape. And even if she had been conceived in love between two different people from different backgrounds, what’s the big deal? I can’t help but have a different opinion to the rest of this town, even if I never fell in love with her.

“So what’s the plan Adsila? You’re due any time now and really we need to decide what we’re gonna do. It’s a miracle you’re both alive after what my dad did. I plan on keeping it that way.”

“Okay, let’s do it, I don’t wanna leave my momma but we need to stay safe.”

The words fall out of me before I even have a chance to really think about it, life won’t be easy here not with another Cherokee child one half of the community will accept the baby, maybe as he will be part Cherokee but the other half won’t. Life’s hard enough for me as it is. And then there’s Momma, if I stay her life will be even more harder, if I go I’ll break her heart.

***

“I’m not sure you’ve thought this through  Adsila, Georgia? You wanna head to Georgia?”

“Yeah Momma, we might be more welcome there.”

I watch my momma pull herself up to her full height, as she takes in my plan.

“Child, there ain’t no way you’re goin’ ta Georgia.”

“But Momma, it’s just the next state and maybe people will accept us, me and the baby.”

“That may be so, but how are y’all gonna live? That’s my concern as ya momma ya can’t live off thin air.”

“Will you come with us?”

I know it’s a stupid question, but I have to ask. For a second, Momma’s face looks like she’s considering a life in Georgia. Then it clouds over as she looks off into the distance at the chickens running free in the yard.

“I can’t.”

“Why not.”

“ I just can’t I’m too old to be doin’ that journey and settin’ up a new home.”

“But Momma–”

“Nothin’ else to say Adsila.”

I get to my feet from the steps of the porch and reach out to her, to try and reason with her some more, she turns her back as she heads over to the chickens. I never imagined that it would come to this, that I would be forced to make a decision between my momma and baby. I need them both, and I need Jesse too.

***

“Arrrrgggh Momma please make it stop please!”

“Stop hollerin’ and focus  Adsila. Your body can’t do it by itself.”

Momma pats dry my damp brow as I pant, yell and try my best to stay calm.

“It’s  a few weeks early, sometimes it happens. Now push  Adsila… pusssssssssssssh!”

I snap my eyes shut and do as Momma say’s ,she knows best, but this pain is killing me how to women do this more than once?

“All right, I can see the head. Deep breath now, that’s it. Push Adsila pusssssssh!”

“Awwww Momma make it stop please.” I clamp down and push again.

“That’s it, that’s it…. here come the shoulders, keep pushing…. Good girl!… That’s it….push. You done it!”

Waaaaah  waaaah

The sound of my baby greets my ears, and for the first time in my life I know what true pain feels like.

“It’s a boy…  Adsila we gotta boy child!”

“What… what, really? Oh gosh Momma,, why didn’t you tell me it hurt so much?” I manage to pant between breaths. I can’t believe it. I have a son… a king.

***

I rest with my eyes closed, the fan on full blast next to me and  my king cradled across my chest feeding. He’s a hungry boy, I feel like the life is being sucked out of me. I’ve been in bed since he arrived, just over two hours ago. Not one part of my body feels like what it once was, before or during pregnancy. No one prepared me for what childbirth really means, how it feels and how amazing the end result is. For nine months I’ve felt the connection with him inside me, every turn he made, or leg that kicked out as he bedded down in my womb for the night will never leave me. There’s something about carrying a child that changes you, I’m only sixteen but I feel much more older now, now that my body has gone through the whole experience of feeding, keeping safe and protecting a baby. I feel grown.

I hear a light knock at the door which causes my eyes to snap open, and pull my king closer to my chest to protect him. I’m full of nerves thinking about the reaction he will get from town folk. His dark hair, eyes and tan skin giveaway who he really is skin deep.

“Ma’am, can I see Adsila please.”

“Go right on through.”

I instantly relax at the sound of Jesse’s voice. I listen closely as his boots clunk against the floor, then my door slowly creaks open.

“Evenin’”

I look up at Jesse at the foot of my bed, with his hat in his hands and a broad smile on his face.

“Hey, you okay?”

“More like are you okay? How are ya’, can I see?”

“Sure, come on over.”

Slowly Jesse makes his way over to the side of my bed and peers at the tiny bundle in my arms. I watch his face light up.

“Wow, can I hold?”

“Mmm hummm.” I give nothing away, I hand over our king and wait for Jesse to notice it’s a boy. He unwraps the blanket gently to get a good look.

“No way, haha well, what have we here? That don’t look like no girly parts to me!”

I can’t help but laugh at his surprise.

“A boy, amazing.” Jesse shakes his head and smiles down at the baby as he covers up his tiny body.

“Look at him, he’s just fine, all of him. He has your hair too.”

“Sure is, he’s a miracle.” I look up at them both beaming.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come over sooner, dad was around and he would only ask questions. I had to wait until the bourbon took over and he passed out.”

“It’s okay.”

“Have you spoke to your momma yet?”

I watch Jesse move around the room rocking the baby back and forth, with a proud look on his face as he talks baby talk to him. My heart swells.

“Yeah, kinda she’s not happy as you can imagine, and I’m not sure if she will come with us.”

“Adsila we have to go, you know this as much as I do we can’t stay around here. Both of us are targets as well as the baby. Already, the town folk are avoiding me, I know they’re  callin’ me names behind my back. Not that I care, I just don’t want him to grow up in this environment, this … I don’t know what to call it  He is a miracle as you say, after the beating you took, he deserves more than these narrow minded folk here.”

“I get it Jesse, but Momma’s right how are we gonna live?”

“I’ll think-a somethin’”

I lower my lashes to the bed, and pray he does.

“Maybe I can find a job too maybe–”

“Are you crazy? No way! You stay home look after… after, what we gonna call him?”

It feels like I’m frozen in time, as we stare at each other. To see Jesse and the baby bonding already my mind is made up, we need to leave and soon. No matter what people think our baby was conceived in love, no violence, no hate and he is so innocent. If people can’t accept me or us around here we’ll travel across the USA until we find somewhere that will. Maybe even farther overseas if we need to, there must be a place we can fit in. A white American boy, with a Cherokee girl and bi-racial child.  He’s mine, ours and we’ll protect him.

“Earth to Adsila… did you hear me, what we callin’ the little guy?”

“King… I wanna call him King, let’s pack a bag.”

updated-telling-tales-weekly-challenege-kim-didi53

Thank you for reading and voting. Didi and I will pause this week on wards, don’t worry we’ll be back soon. Like I said last time we paused, it’s the quiet before the storm. Then what happened?… The Suspenseful Collection Volume one was published. 🙂 Sit tight for more Kim and Didi’s Suspenseful Collection, with a twist! You can read all our stories here.

Week #4: THE CRIME SCENE – A Short Story #kdsuspense #amwriting #crime #shortstory

CRIME SCENE

 

The Crime Scene

AUTHOR ONE: SCENE ONE

23:12 p.m. Down Town Los Angeles

“Evening, Detective McBride. This is Detective Flynn, what ya got for us?”

As Detective Daniel McBride listened to the low down from the LA CSI forensic team, Detective Kate Flynn drowned out the sirens, and low hum of voices as she moved her eyes over the crime scene. Mr Wang’s Chinese restaurant is normally a busy eatery, popular with tourists and locals. Tonight, it’s cornered off with police tape, and the media everywhere. They circled the scene like a hungry pack of wolves waiting to fed. Flynn glanced over at the restaurant, the steel shutters covered with graffiti are lowed over the entrance.

“McBride, I’ll catch you inside okay? I’m gonna head in and take a look.”

McBride nodded and returned his attention to the forensic team. Detective Flynn made her way over the Mr. Wang’s, she eyed the outside of the building and news reporters with a sharp eye. Mel Turner a well-known CNN News reporter caught Detective Flynn’s eye. Mel jogged toward her, as she stepped in line with Flynn’s path she shoved a microphone under her nose, and a camera man zoomed in on the action.

“Detective, Detective do you have any idea who the killer is?”  

“No… not at this point.” Flynn responded avoiding the camera, mindful not to give away too many details. She kept walking at a brisk pace to the crime scene.

“But Detective, you can’t be serious, this is the third murder in one week. You mean to say the LAPD are still clueless about the killer?”

Flynn stopped dead in her tracks, annoyed at the reporter’s bravery. Cleverly, she tried to get a rise out of her with her comment.

“Ma’am get that microphone outta my face. With all due respect, this is a crime scene and y’all need to move away from here.”

Flynn, increased her pace toward Mr. Wang’s, her flat loafers pounded the pavement as a swarm of reporters headed her way. As Flynn approached the restaurant’s entrance, she inhaled a deep breath, cameras flashed behind her.

Bang bang!

“Open up, LAPD.” Flynn announced in a flat tone.

A quick badge flash at the forensic team member, covered in a boiler suit, goggles with camera dangling from his neck gained her access.

“Thanks, Detective Flynn. Can you lead me to the body please?”

“This way Detective.”

Flynn stepped over the threshold of the restaurant into what looked like a regular Friday night occurrence. As she scanned the scene of the crime, it appeared tables were dressed in traditional Chinese cloths, delicious Chinese food  left half eaten along with glasses of wine. The guests must have been horrified to find out their meal had to be interrupted as the LAPD were on their way.

“Where’s the owner?”

“Right this way ma’am.” The forensic responded over his shoulder as he led Flynn into the kitchen area. Mr. Wang sat on a crate with his head in his hands sobbing. Flynn lower herself to his level.

“Mr. Wang, I’m Detective Kate Flynn.”

“Hmm, Detective, my business, my customer! Everybody leave unhappy no money, I need money to send home, my wife in China.”

Flynn watched Mr. Wang’s tears overflow as he threw his arms around in frustration, gesturing to the empty dining area and LAPD and forensic team crawling all over his restaurant.

“Mr. Wang, I need to ask you a few questions in a moment okay?”

“Hmm hmm.” Is all Mr. Wang responded as he lowered his head and wept some more.

With a sigh, Flynn pulled herself up to her full five foot nine height, then glanced at the forensic to her left.

“Right this way, Detective.”

***

“Detective.”

Another forensic in a full body suit acknowledged Flynn’s presence with a nod, as he took photos of the body outside the back area of the restaurant.

“Stephen, hi. Okay what have we got here?”

“Well, as you can see Detective, the victim is a white female, around her late twenties, found behind the dumpster over here as Mr. Wang put out the trash.”

“Hmm, okay. Any obvious cause of death?”

“No stab wounds, or gunshots noticed. We’ll need to wait for the full autopsy report.”

“Okay, don’t fall asleep on this one, contact the coroner’s office asap. I’ll be over there first thing for a report. Prints, evidence, I need that on my desk before noon tomorrow.”

“Yes ma’am. No problem, Detective.”

Flynn spun on her heel and walked around the outside area of the restaurant, just a small garden area cornered off by a fence. A few dumpsters, bags of trash, nothing appeared obviously out of place. The question was how had the killer gained access to dump the body. She walked over to the open gate and examined the lock another forensic was dusting off, presumably for prints.

“Flynn, how’s it going?”

The sound of Detective McBride’s voice over her shoulder startled her, she was deep in thought, as she imagined what could have motivated the killer to use the back entrance of Mr. Wang’s to dispose the body.

“Not good, white female, late twenties no obvious signs of death as yet.”

McBride rubbed his grey beard, and narrowed his eyes in thought. The contrast of his salted pepper beard against his smooth chocolate skin, gave him a slight Denzel Washington look.

“Shit, same as the other two, hard to say if there’s a link though, they’re the same age group but no connection with the background. One Hispanic and one African- American.”

“Hmm, we need to find out who she is and see.” Flynn responded as she glanced back over at the victim’s body on the floor.

“Right, what about Mr. Wang?”

“He’s inside in tears, concerned over his business, naturally.”

“Take him in, leave no stone unturned. See what he knows.”

“I’m on it.”

McBride watched Flynn make her way back inside the restaurant, then moved his eyes slowly over the scene of the crime.  He felt the sense of urgency he felt every time a crime was committed, especially a murder. Three bodies, one week, three females, late twenties and one killer on the loose. He and Flynn, had work to do.

***

“This is Detective Kate Flynn, today is Monday 28th August 2017. Present is Detective Daniel McBride. This interview is taking place at Los Angeles Police Department, in interview room three. Mr. Wang you are not under arrest, however we’re carrying out routine investigation questions as you were the first one at the crime scene. You are being interviewed under caution, anything you say may be used as evidence in a court of law. For the purposes of the tape can you please confirm your name, and date of birth.”

“My English… no good, I sorry, not perfect.”

“Take your time Mr. Wang, if at any point you don’t understand or need an interpreter please let us know.

Mr. Wang lowered his gaze to the worn brown wooden table, that separated him and the two detectives. He felt nervous, in all his years in America he had never had a brush with the law.

“Okay, I try.”

“Thank you, when you’re ready sir.” McBride reassured him.

“I Chan- Lee Wang, 13th February 1950.”

Flynn took over the questioning, while McBride made swift notes.

“Thank you. Mr. Wang are you the owner of Mr. Wang’s Chinese eatery in downtown Los Angeles?”

“Yes.”

“And for how long have you owned that establishment sir?”

“Since I in America.”

“Which was when please sir, when did you arrive?”

“Ten years, 2000.”

“Thank you. Mr. Wang. Can you tell us in your own words what happened tonight, when you found the body?”

Mr. Wang hesitated, the shock of finding a body on his premises put the fear of God into him.

“Okay, okay. I clean plate, put food in trash bag, tie bag and go outside to dumpster… then… then.”

Mr. Wang places his hands over his face, as he broke down sobbing again. He is inaudible behind his sobs. McBride and Flynn glanced at each other, mindful this could all be an act. McBride cleared his throat and took over the lead.

“Mr. Wang if you could continue please sir, when you’re ready.”

“Yes, yes. I go outside to dumpster and push bin to wall, too far forward, not in right place… Then it no push. I look down, behind, I see body.”

“And then what did you do?”

“I ran inside, call police.”

“Did you touch the body at all?”

“No sir … No no no way.”

“Did you recognise the victim?”

“No.”

“Does anyone else have access to your property Mr. Wang?”

Slowly, Mr. Wang shook his head as if deep in thought.

“No, nobody.”

Feeling as though the interview was leading to a dead end, McBride closed the interview, pending further investigation.

“Thank you, Mr. Wang. That will be all for tonight, it’s late you’ll be released with no further questions– for now.

***

8:00 a.m. The Coroner’s Office

“Good to see you Kate as always, under such sad circumstances but good nonetheless.”

Dr. Solvinac eyed Flynn over his half-moon glasses, as he finished off his autopsy report.

He took in her tall stature, and short blonde hair. On the outside Flynn was all business, and radiated more of a masculine air about her. Her tailored dark pant suits, low heel loafers, bare fingernails and lack of cosmetics, gave nothing personal away about her or any kind of femininity. Underneath it all, she had a heart of gold. Over the years the two had become close, since she transferred to the LAPD from the Nevada Police Department, Las Vegas.

“Morning Doc, good to see you too.”

Flynn approached the table with caution, on top was the victim from last night. Her pale skin contrasted against her blonde hair.

“So, who is she?”

“Here we have Danielle Bray. Her ID was in her pocket, oddly. The killer must have taken off with her purse.”

“I see, what else do you know?” Flynn pressed as she followed Dr. Solvinac around the table.

“Thirty five years old, a drinker quite heavy, probably been dead around twenty four hours before she was found. Prior to that she had intercourse, semen was present in her mouth and internally, the semen however is mixed there was more than one man.”

“Thirty five! She looks so much younger! McBride and I were sure she was in her twenties.”

“They all look young in death, Kate. Danielle is in her thirties according to her photo ID, and the autopsy I done.”

“I see, and you say more than one man? And the cause of death?”

“Strangulation, not with the hands, more like stockings or some such thing. There was a struggle too. And yes, just to make your job that much harder there were two semen samples found.”

“She was a busy lady.”

“She sure was, I’ll run a check on the samples and come back to you as soon as I can.”

Flynn, bit the inside of her lip and looked over Danielle’s body slowly.

“Thanks Doc, I’ll be in contact.”

“No problem, see you when the next one turns up.” Dr. Solvinac lightly chuckles.

“That’s not funny Doc, we’re gonna find him.”

“Or her, you never know…” Dr. Solvinac retorts.

***

“Hey, what’s the latest.”

“She’s thirty five.”

“Thirty five, get outta here, really?”

“Yes really, death by strangulation too. Danielle Bray.”

“Hold on a sec, lemme run her name through the database see what it throws up.”

“There’s more, two semen samples present.”

McBride let out a low whistle on the other end of the line.

“I’m on my way to base, see you soon.” Flynn, pressed end on the call to McBride, threw her car in gear and took off.

***

“Morning boss.”

“Morning.” Flynn responded as she made her way through the open plan office, of the LA Police department, to McBride’s office. As she opened the door her partner was slumped in his chair, deep in concentration looking at his screen. Ever the snappy dresser today McBride had on his pink shirt open at the neck, with no tie and a pair of black braces. Gold cuff links sparkled at his wrists. Without so much of a greeting Flynn got to business.

“So, what’s up, anything come up?”

“Yep, she works over at the bank on Main Street. Minor records on driving offences, drinking under the influence a few years back. Her next of kin is Leena Bray her younger sister.”

“Right, we better pay a visit and give her the news, then come back and see if this case links up with Kelsey Lopez and DeLisa Jones.” McBride responded as he stood up and reached for his suit jacket.

“Hard to say, Kelsey Lopez, Hispanic, poor, unemployed, DeLisa Jones African- American from a good background, with a nine-five. What the hell could these three women all have in common?”

McBride blew out a slow breath at Flynn’s question. “Wrong place, and the wrong time that’s all we know for now.”

***

“Can I help you?”

“Detective McBride, this here is Detective Flynn.”

McBride flashed his badge, and Colgate white smile at the pretty blonde who opened the door. Flynn remained poker faced, and unfazed.

“Are you Leena Bray?” McBride questioned.

“Yes.”

“We need to speak to you about your sister, Danielle. May we come in please?”

“Sure.”

Lena moved to one side, full of confusion she let the detectives into her home. Flynn and McBride walked into Leena’s neat and tidy small condo apartment. Both detectives looked around alert, as they tried to pick up clues about the lifestyle this young lady led.

“Take a seat, would either of you like something to drink?”

“No thanks I’m fine.”

“I’m fine too, thank you.”

“Well, all right, take a seat.” Leena nervously gestured to the seating area.

All three of them lowered themselves to the coach. Flynn, took control.

“Leena, your sister’s body was found late last night.”

“What? Where? How… I just spoke to her the day before yesterday and.. Are you kidding me?” Leena’s pretty face moulded itself into a pleading look.

“No, afraid not. She was found behind a dumpster, by Mr. Wang’s downtown.”

“Downtown? What the hell was she doing there?” The disgust was clear in Leena’s voice.

“When was the last time you saw your sister?”

“I spoke to her the day before yesterday, she had some hot date to go on as always.”

“Did she say who it was with?”

“Some guy named Ryan, she met him online, via an advert he placed.”

“Did she say anything else?”

“Nope, just filled me in on her crazy love life as usual and how things were going at the bank.”

AUTHOR TWO: SCENE TWO.

***

“What do you have for me?” Flynn asked the uniformed officer waiting by an interrogation room. “This better be as urgent as you claim, we don’t want any repeats of last time.”

Officer Dannally lowered his head in shame. Remembering his false alarm. He’d pulled Flynn from the the actual scene of a crime the very hour the act took place. He looked up at her from beneath his bushy unibrow that stood out against his pale skin. He cleared the lump from his throat before he spoke.

“Yes, ma’am,” he forced through a timid voice. “I have a security guard from a night club downtown. He’s been watching the news and claims to have seen each victim the night of their attacks.”

“Hmmm.” Detective Flynn nodded at the Officer Dannally in approval. “Do you think he’s telling the truth?”

“Seems so, yes,” he answered, still a little embarrassed at her recognition of his last big mistake.

“Has he been briefed and aware of the camera?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Mcbride chimed in, “I think we should both go in with this one, don’t you boss?”

“Agreed.”

Mcbride forced open the heavy metal door to a cramped interrogation room. The walls were a dark gray, and the floors thinly industrial grade carpeted. The supposed security guard sat on the opposite side of an elongated fold up table. It separated him from the two entering detectives. Flynn reached her hand across the table first to greet him.

“Sir. I’m Detective Flynn and this is my partner Detective Mcbride.”

The man stood to return the courteous introduction. He was tall, well over six feet with wide shoulders and a sharpe serious look on his smooth mocha face. His dark eyes explored the length of Flynn’s tailored, form fitting suit. After an obvious smirk consumed his face and he adjusted the belt line of his pants, he shook her hand first. His grip was purposefully weak but his hand was big enough to completely engulf hers. The warmth of his rough skin mixed with the way he undressed her with his eyes made her cringe.

“Detective.” He smiled.

Flynn ran a hand down the front buttons of her suit as she took a seat, wholly uncomfortable, which was rare. Not many men were capable of getting under her skin, but this particular one had that look. The look of someone hiding a twisted secret. Something disgusting lurked behind his undressing glare. Flynn’s detective intuition charged full speed ahead, alerting every part of her that something was off with this guy. Her heart pounded in her chest trying to get out. But, she put it in check and put her most collected face on show.

After shaking Mcbride’s hand in just the same fashion, they both took their seat, joining Flynn at the table. Mcbride didn’t waste any time.

“So you say that you’re a security guard at a club down town?” He asked.

“Yep, the Boom Room,” he beamed, looking mostly at Flynn. “Been there for five years now.”

“I’m sorry,” Flynn jumped in. “I don’t think we caught your name?”

“Thomas Toby, or Tom if you’d rather.” He threw her a wink.

“I’ll stick with Thomas,” Flynn mumbled with disgust.

Mcbride placed his large black leather briefcase on the table and began rummaging through photos of each victim. Soon a snapshot of each girl before their murders was laid out on the table.

“So Thomas,” Mcbride said, “You claim that you’ve seen each of these girls in the club within this last week?”

“Yep, every one.” He sat up a little taller in his seat, seeming proud of himself.

“And you’re sure of it?”

“Without a doubt.”

“What else can you tell us? Anything you can think of is helpful.”

“Well, like I said, I’ve been working there for five years. I can tell you a lot actually.”

Thomas scratched his chin with his thumb and forefinger in thought. It wasn’t a look of straining to remember, so much as pondering on how much to actually give away. Finally he nodded to himself as if to confirm the direction he wanted to take. Then he grinned the same proud smirk he sported while shaking Flynn’s hand and blurted out his words.

“They’re escorts. Everyone of them.”

Both Flynn and Mcbride perked up in their seats.

“That’s impossible,” Flynn said. “Not one friend or family member said anything about this. Trust me, we’ve asked every single one.”

“They wouldn’t know, now would they?” Thomas grinned. “Would your daughter want to tell you she was a prostitute?”

“I thought you said escort?” Mcbride corrected.

“Yes, of course.” Thomas rolled his eyes, peeling them away from Flynn to finally give Mcbride his attention.” I can’t speak for this one,” he said while pointing at the Hispanic girl, Kelsey. “She was new to that crew and seemed to carry herself with more class. But blondie here was well known for how deep her deep throat could go, if you know what I mean.”

“So you actually know these women?” Flynn asked, “You didn’t just see them”  She accentuated the way she announced ‘see’ while signaling quotations in the air with her fingers.

“I wouldn’t go that far, ma’am.” Thomas corrected her with a giant grin and while holding both palms in the air as if to playfully surrender. “I haven’t actually spoken to any of these women, but they come into the club very often. And, I know their boss well.”

“How well?” Mcbride asked.

Thomas’ smile spread nearly from ear to ear. He leaned across the table on his elbow, and spoke in a low menacing voice, “He’s my brother.”

***

“Officer Dannally?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

He stood immediately at attention as the door to the interrogation room slammed behind Mcbride and Flynn.

“I want several search warrants, and I need them within two hours or less. Do whatever you have to do to get them rushed through. We have to act fast before night rolls around. We have a lot of new information, and several leads. I want them all looked into before we have any more victims on our hands.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Grab a pen, I don’t want you messing this one up.”

 

***  

Toby Enterprise was located in the heart of downtown L.A. on a skyrise overlooking the city. Mr. Jarek Toby, Thomas’ brother, stood by his corner office window with arms folded tightly across his massive chest. The resemblance between him and his brother was uncanny, and he gave Detective Flynn the same uneasy feeling… Maybe even worse. She paced the large open room, taking in every book and photo on his overstuffed shelves.

“Tell me again why you’re here.” Jarek grumbled.

“We’re here to talk about your escort service.” Mcbride said, while sitting perfectly calm and collected in a fluffy black leather chair. One ankle propped up on the other knee and hands casually set in his lap.

“I no longer run an escort service.”

One side of Jarek’s lip curled up and his eyes danced with the excitement of a skilled liar.

“Yes Mr. Toby, we’re well aware that the operation was shut down three years ago for prostitution.”

“Which brings me to ask again. Why are you here?”

Mcbride sat forward and lowered his eyes. “Because we’re also aware that your previous clientele upped the price they were willing to pay you to keep the business running under the radar.”

The smirk on Jarek’s face quickly melted away, yet he stuck to claiming his innocence in the matter.

“Toby Enterprise is strictly a holdings company. I buy out businesses, break them down and sell them for a very substantial profit. The escort side of things was a liability. There never has been a need to do anything under the radar. With all do respect Detectives, you’re looking in the wrong place.”

“We have three dead girls on our hands who I’m sure would beg to differ if they were able.” Flynn said, as she stopped to take a closer look at a photo.

The still frame she stopped at sat next to one of Jarek and Thomas together on the beach. It clearly ranked up there with family and it instantly raised the hairs on Flynn’s arms.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jarek insisted.

Flynn turned on her heels, and held up the photo. “Mr, Toby?” She asked. “Explain to me exactly how you and are brother are both so closely acquainted with Mr. Wang as to be in a photo with him and his entire family?”

“We did business years ago.”

“What kind of business?”

Jarek remained stone faced, yet the color of his ears darkened from a very light brown to a deep scarlet. “Toby Enterprise was a silent partner for Mr. Wang’s restaurant.” He paused as a spark of recognition lit on his face. “Wait a minute. How do you know my little brother?”

Mcbride chuckled, “Wow, you really are in deeper shit than you realize, aren’t you?”

“Okay, what the fuck did that low life tell you exactly?” Jarek scowled, the anger rising in the back of his throat.

“That’s beside the point.” Flynn interjected. “What do you mean was a silent partner?”

“Mr. Wang screwed us out of millions, and at the same time drove a wedge between Thomas and me. When I said I stopped running the escort business, I didn’t mean the entire business stopped.”

“Well Mr. Toby. Why don’t you fill us in on exactly what you do mean.” Flynn said with one hand on her hip and the other still holding the photo in the air. “Also, why don’t you explain to us why you keep these photos in your office if the hate for these individuals is so clear?”

Jarek slumped forward in defeat. With his weight supported by his elbows on his desk he buried his face in the palms of his enormous hands. He pulled in a large breath of oxygen and then let it out very slowly, while rubbing his hands up and down his face.

“You don’t know my brother,” Jarek said. “There’s a reason he’s doing this. He must have finally found out about the affair.” He rubbed his face again with the palm of his hands, this time much rougher, and much more urgently. His demeanor flipped from irritation to an odd sense of urgency and fear.

“What affair Jarek?” Mcbride asked, “Explain quickly please. We’re running short on time, and I’m running short on patience.”

Jarek let out a long breath of anxious air, his cheeks blowing out like a balloon. He reached over the top of his desk, holding a hand out for the photo. Flynn handed it over willingly and finally took a seat in the chair next to Mcbride. She gave Jarek her full and undivided attention, knowing that whatever he had to say must be big. Jarek began pointing at the faces on the picture.

“This man here is Chin-Lou Wang, he his Mr. Wang’s brother. This woman is Sue-Lee and she is Chin-Lou’s daughter. Thomas was engaged to her when she and I had an affair. When Mr. Wang and his brother found out about the affair he threatened to tell Thomas as well as my wife. The escort business was under investigation at the time. So I backed out of our silent partnership in the restaurant giving Mr. Wang full profit. Then I handed the escort’s clientele over to Chin-Lou to run quietly after it’s downfall through Toby Enterprise.”

Detective Mcbride leaned back in his chair and said, “I can imagine Thomas wasn’t very happy about you handing over the business like that?”

“Not at all. Especially when I wouldn’t tell him why I went over his head.” Jarek shook his head in shame. The grief was visible in the purse of his lips and the wrinkle between his brows from pulling them together.

“What happened between Thomas and Sue-Lee?” Flynn asked. “And if you handed over the escort services then why would Thomas say you still run it?”

“Sue-Lee died in a car accident shortly after it all happened. Thomas didn’t take it all very well. He signed over all of his shares of the business to the staff and then took off. I haven’t seen or heard from him since.”

“Hmm…” The wheels in Flynn’s head were turning like a well oiled machine. There had to be something else. Something they were missing.

“Like I said.” Jarek continued. “My brother is a dangerous man. He sent you here knowing that I’d spill the beans. He wouldn’t have done that unless he has something planned… Something big.”

“Do you have anything to hide, Mr. Toby?” Flynn asked. “Any other reason for your brother to send the police to your office? He’s clearly out for revenge. If he wanted us to find out that Mr. Wang’s brother ran a prostitution service then he would have sent us straight there. This is more than just a wild goose chase, you must have something else to hide.”

“No ma’am, I swear I told you everything I can think of.”

Before anyone had the chance to say anything else, there was a loud knock on the door. Four uniformed men barged in, the first holding up an official document.

“Officer Dannally, I’m glad to see you finally made it.” Flynn stood and took the document from the officer’s hand before turning back to Jarek. “Jarek Toby you are hereby under arrest. You a have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney, and if you can’t afford one, then one will be appointed to you. You have been charged with tax evasion.”

“You can’t prove anything!” Jarek shouted over his shoulder, cutting her off. A pair of shiny cuffs clicked as they secured his wrists in place behind his back.

Flynn turned her back to him as she reached into her pocket to answer the phone call ringing in. “Detective Kate Flynn here.”

“Kate, it’s Dr. Slovinac down at the coroner’s office.”

“It’s great to hear from you Doc. Please tell me you have something useful.”

“We have a match to one of our seman samples.”

“And, who was the lucky guy?”

“The specimen in her mouth came up as one Thomas Toby. Does the name ring a bell?”

“Yes Doc. Thank you. Call me as soon as anything else comes through.

Flynn clicked off her phone and slid it back to is place in her pocket. She turned to face Mcbride, “It seems like our boy Jarek here was telling the truth. It’s time to use our next warrant and pay Thomas a little visit.

As they made their way to the door amongst the chaos of the officers searching Jarek’s office a menacing laughter crackled through the air. Mcbride turned back around his face twisted in confusion.

“Is something funny, Mr. Toby?”

“You’re dead!” he laughed. “My brother is going to kill every last one of you mother fuckers.”

Who wants part #2?? Thank you for reading & voting for this writing prompt we loved this week’s challenge, we could write this story more!

🙂

updated-telling-tales-weekly-challenege-kim-didi53

This Is How Kim & Didi’s Suspenseful Collection Works!

We never discuss beforehand how a story should go or who writes what. It’s a surprise for each other to see how their story ends, or what lands in their inbox to finish off.

This interactive writing challenge is simple and insanely creative. It’s a group effort and we are so glad to have you join in the writing fun!!  I hope you’re ready to challenge us by choosing which prompts we can transform into stellar suspense!  Give us your best shot!  You vote on our weekly prompt, and we provide the entertainment. It’s that simple!  The super easy steps are as follows:

STEP ONE: Every Wednesday we’ll post a voting poll with a few prompts to choose from.
STEP TWO: With the click of a button, you cast your vote on a prompt. (voting will stay open for three days.) Once the winning prompt is announced you can join us and write a story too. Use #kdsuspense to link in.
STEP THREE: READ AND ENJOY!  Every week on the following Tuesday we will post the short story that transformed from the very winning prompt.

Read Previous Stories Here!

And The Most Voted For Writing Prompt is: A Crime Scene… Damn Kim’s excited!! #kdsuspense #amwriting #crimefiction

CRIME SCENE

 

Thank you, thank you and THANK YOU!! For all your votes on Twitter and the blogs this week. This week Didi and I asked you to vote for your favourite type of movie scene.  This week we will start a story at random, with the most voted for type of scene. It was a close call between romantic comedy – first date and a crime scene.  However, a crime scene won the vote. We are SO excited,  as suspense authors we do love a bit of crime fiction. While Didi likes to write them (characters) a little psycho, I like to keep it fast paced and edgy so this should be a GOOD week, as we join forces again!  Don’t forget we’d love to see your stories , please write with us. Start your story at random with a crime scene and let us see. Post your link on one of our blogs and share with #kdsuspense. We’ll catch you Tuesday. Have a wonderful Bank Holiday weekend if you’re in the UK.

This Is How Kim & Didi’s Suspenseful Collection Works!

We never discuss beforehand how a story should go or who writes what. It’s a surprise for each other to see how their story ends, or what lands in their inbox to finish off.

This interactive writing challenge is simple and insanely creative. It’s a group effort and we are so glad to have you join in the writing fun!!  I hope you’re ready to challenge us by choosing which prompts we can transform into stellar suspense!  Give us your best shot!  You vote on our weekly prompt, and we provide the entertainment. It’s that simple!  The super easy steps are as follows:

STEP ONE: Every Wednesday we’ll post a voting poll with a few prompts to choose from.
STEP TWO: With the click of a button, you cast your vote on a prompt. (voting will stay open for three days.) Once the winning prompt is announced you can join us and write a story too. Use #kdsuspense to link in.
STEP THREE: READ AND ENJOY!  Every week on the following Tuesday we will post the short story that transformed from the very winning prompt.

Read Previous Stories Here!

updated-telling-tales-weekly-challenege-kim-didi53

Wk #3 Volume 2: Chainsaw Ridge- A Short story (Blood, Sex, Gore + More) #kdsuspsense #amwriting #horror

th10D67U6M

18+ Reading! Adult Content Alert.

Chainsaw Ridge

Author One Scene One

“Alice!”

The voice is a blend of husky and shrill, like nails on a chalkboard. Alice cringes at the sound of it.

“Alice.” It repeats. “You better answer me, dammit!”

“Yes, daddy.”

The rickety steel framed bed creaks as Alice rolls onto her side. She’s cradled by the dip in the overly used and extremely stained mattress, that she’s been sleeping on for nearly twenty years. The same bed she slept in as a toddler. A waft of her uncleansed flesh floats into the air with her movements. The sour pinch of the smell wins its competition with the week old garbage pile to her side. Alice mozies to the window of her bedroom to let some breeze in, as she listens to her crippled father’s voice. She knows full well what’s coming.

“My babies are starvin’, get yer fat ass out there and feed em’.”

“M’kay, daddy.”

“We’re runnin’ low on chow,” he shouts through the thin wall separating them. “It’s time ya’ go ta’ town and pick up some feed.”

“‘M’kay, daddy.”

Alice answers his barking orders, completely numb to what the request entails.

“Well, get to it! An’ make it snappy. I wanna’ watch ya’ prep the meat before dark.”

“Yes sir.”

Alice’s nose pleads for the fresh earthy scent of the white oak forest that she can see in the distance. That luxury is denied, and only the rotten smell of her father’s pig farm bites into her room. They grunt and pop their jaws searching their large shit filled pens for dinner. Directly below Alice’s window, everything about the hogs gave her nightmares. Especially what they’re fed. She complies with her father’s wishes either way.

At a very young age, Alice was taught exactly how much a pig can consume. Teeth, bone, everything. They don’t even shit it out the evidence, their bodies absorb every last bit. After a while the horrid screams of her father’s victims became nothing but routine, a familiar sound fighting its way through the forced emotionless fog of her brain. The farm is secluded, miles from Chicago where the homeless pickens have always been abundant. She learned to tune out the screams very well… Until his accident…

Alice was there when her daddy crashed, and so was the middle aged man knocked out in the back seat of the pickup. The man happened to be twice her size, so she had to take extreme measures to get the job done. It was the very day her father passed down his legacy, and the first day of his new life bound to the restraints of a wheelchair.

The sounds of that day are what playback consistently in Alice’s head. Her daddy was trapped in the truck, smashed at the waist, and the stranger had been tossed out through the front window. Alice withstood the roll completely unscathed, leaving her to clean up the mess her daddy had started. The squeals of the tires and the crunch of metal and glass were nothing compared to what came after they rolled.

“Do it, Alice.”

His voice was younger then. Still husky, but with less scratch.

“You have to kill him, Alice! Do it! Do it before he wakes up!”

Alice was only thirteen at the time. Her hands shook as she squeezed her body out of the broken glass of the truck’s windshield. In a panic she searched through the chaos of scattered shards as they glistened in the summer sun. Thousands of tiny shining chunks covered everything from the back of the truck that had been tossed out all over the pavement. Alice ran to a shovel, only to be shut down by the voice.

“You’re too small for that! Use your fuckin’ head!”

Alice dropped the shovel, her body froze. She didn’t want to do it, but knew it was up to her. They lived on a very remote place, but they couldn’t risk being seen nonetheless. She also knew that if the stranger woke up, he’d likely get away. Although Alice was very large for her age, and strong, she was still much smaller than the man. A sharp jaggedy chain shimmered in the sun, calling to her. Alice shook her head, afraid of her own thoughts.

“Do it Alice!”

Hesitantly she reached for it, her meaty fingers gripped tightly around the handle of her daddy’s chainsaw. The pit of her stomach screamed out in horror. I can’t do it, she thought, I’m not ready yet. He yelled even louder from inside the smashed truck bed while she stood staring at the stranger. Mute.

“Just fuckin’ do it, Alice!”

“Daddy I…”

“Do it now, before he fuckin’ wakes up!”

Alice swallowed the lump in her throat and pulled the chainsaw’s rope. She was no stranger to the tool having used it on the farm often, yet it still took her shaking arm a few tries. The buzz of the saw cut in and out, struggling its way to life. Rununununun, Runununununun.

“Do it!”

Finally the chainsaw’s roar became steady. Alice made her way to the man, her weapon vibrating both arms as she griped it with every bit of strength she could muster. With ease, the saw chewed through the man’s flesh like butter. Scarlet chunks painted Alice’s face with a splat. She closed her mouth to keep the taste out, and wiped the wet pieces of him from her eyes with the long sleeve of her once floral print dress. Without missing a beat she went back to work. As soon as his head rolled away from his body she held the loud running saw to his middle.

The pieces of him had to be small enough for her to carry by herself. Her daddy’s voice bounded over the destruction of her running metal weapon. Chewed up chunks of intestines spilled onto the pavement, like bloody heaps of broken rope.

“Do it!”

As Alice remembers the sounds of that day, she stares at her daddy’s pigs. It’s a new bunch of animals. Most of the hogs that had eaten her first kill are now dead. Sliced into the bacon that fills the old power sucking freezer in their dank dirty basement.There’s only one of those particular hogs left. Alice recognizes this very pig because she watched the oval black spot on top of its back, as it chewed through the skull of that man’s severed head. Each bite with a crunch. It was a tiny piglet then, now it’s gray and aged.

“Alice!”

His voice again cut through her.

“Yeah, daddy?”

“I said make it fuckin’ snappy!”

Author Two Scene Two

Alice sighed, and cut her eyes at her dad’s voice. He was a mean old bastard, her daddy. Never one to show any compassion to anyone. All he cared about were his fat pigs. She remembered in her childhood, when he was not wheelchair bound, that he’d slept with them on the hay  in the barn, right under her window. As if it were normal for folk to do that. When her mom was alive Alice swore that’s what turned her crazy. An unloving husband more interested in intercourse …. With pigs. She shuddered at the thought, and sight of it. She remembered well the day she walked in on him with his pants around his ankles, humping a pig in the ass she felt disgusted. She ran out the barn screaming and confused, not sure what to make of it all. She reasoned with herself the best thing to do was to tell Mom. She laughed as she sat by the window with her grubby shawl wrapped over her shoulders, rocking in her chair, chain smoking on a cigarette.

“Get used to it baby girl, that’s your father for you.”

Was all her mom said. In a flat unmoved tone. Gathering herself together and shaking off the early memories of her childhood. Alice walked over to the cracked mirror on the wall. She took a deep look at herself. For a woman of twenty three years old she looked nothing like her peers. Compared to all the other women her age Alice was a state. She wore her wavy dark brown hair in two French braids always, her eyebrows were unattended to, they looked more like caterpillars crawling across her face, rather than a set of threaded and plucked neat brows. Her skin was grey with lack of sunshine and vitamin D, she hardly left the house. It also had a slight dirty look to it. She was far from fashionable, even if her father had the money for her to buy the latest trends, the mean tight fisted old bastard  probably would never allow it. She donned a plain gray sundress, no matter the weather come rain or sunshine. Her dirty off white ankle socks completed her look of an unkept woman, clearly poverty stricken. On her feet a pair of worn brown sandals. Alice looked a woman trapped in a timewarp.

“I’m on my way Daddy.” She called over her shoulder as she tore her eyes from her reflection.

“Good, like I said hurry the fuck up, they’re hungry and so am I.”

The sound of his voice penetrating through the walls stuck Alice differently this time, instead of fear she felt annoyance at his demanding, unappreciative ways. She waited on him hand and foot since he became wheelchair bound. How does he thank her? … He did’nt that’s the messed up thing about it. After she pulled him from that truck and saved his life, not to mention kept his ass out of prison by disposing of the stranger’s body, he had not once thanked her.

***

As Alice made her way down the dirt gravel road from her house then took a left. She headed toward the town center. It was winter and the days had become chilly, she felt it as she pulled her worn cardigan tighter around her. The chill bit through her  to the core of her bones. With her bare legs and low ankle socks she had no protection from the chilly air.

Alice looked around her as if seeing her neighborhood for the first time, through a new set of eyes. How had life just slipped away so quickly? The years just rolled into one since her mom passed away. “Natural causes” the Dr. said, Alice found it hard to believe. Her mama was crazy yes, but apart from a slightly disturbed mind she was fit and well. It had crossed her mind that maybe, just maybe her dad had something to do with her death and “natural causes.”

She pushed the thought away as she spotted Bill up ahead.

“Hey Alice, what-chaya doin’?”

“Nothin’”

“Don’t look like nothin’ ta’ me.” Bill said as he ran over to her and stepped in line with her pace.

“I’m headin’ to town.”

“What for? An’ you walkin’ all that way?”

“Yeah, I’m walkin’”

“What for though, what ya need over there?”

“Chow.”

“Oh them damn pigs. You mean ta tell me ya father’s still got ‘em?”

“Yeah Bill, I swear he loves them more than me.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Hmm.” Was all Alice could say. Numb to any emotion regarding her dad.

“What-do- ya say we take a lil’ walk in the woods on the way?”

“Not today Bill, I gotta get going.”

“Oh C’mon, Alice… You love our walks in the woods.”

Bill took Alice’s hand and led her off the dirt road toward the woods. He was hard already at the thought of slamming Alice up against the trees. One thing he liked about Alice was she was an easy goer. She never talked much, not the intelligent type. She spread her legs and that’s all she needed to do, that was good enough for him. She liked to get fucked and had no problem with servicing two even three men in the woods at a time. Often, he wondered what caused her to be so mute and unemotional when it came to sexual relations. She seemed unfazed by it all. Alice stopped in her tracks and pulled her hand from his.

“Bill not today, I really gotta go.”

“It won’t take long, let’s go.”

Alice gave in with a sigh, she saw the twinkle in Bill’s eye as the smiled and walked ahead. She followed behind him into the depths of the woods.

***

Bill wasted no time as he grabbed Alice’s hair and bent her over. He pulled the hem of her dirty dress up, and pulled her panties to one side. Alice held onto the tree for dear life as he slammed into her. Her mind went blank as he thrust in and out of her from behind, grunting and moaning. He slowed himself down to hold back his climax, and slipped out of her. He spun her around and put her back against the tree, he looked down at her with a smirk on his face. Bill was far from handsome. He had dirty blond hair cut short, a wide forehead with a thick nose. She never focused on his looks when they were intimate in the woods. In fact, she never focused on any of the men’s looks she allowed to have their way with her. For her sex allowed her to not think or feel. All though at least someone, anyone paid attention to her during the one on one sessions, or many three or foursomes she had with the town’s men.

“Ya ganna treat me nicely today Alice, maybe suck me off a bit?.”

“Hmm, maybe.”

“Maybe, that’s not what I wanna hear.” Bill retorted as he pulled down Alice’s zipper at the back of her dress and slid it over her shoulders. She was braless, as always. Her full breasts fell out and greeted him. Bill massaged over her breasts roughly as he stared down at her. The air was now so chilly he could see his own breath as he spoke, the sight of Alice’s nipples hardening against to cool air hardened him more. He gave into temptation and lowered his mouth to her right breast, he took her nipple in his mouth and began to enjoy her. Alice tipped her head back and let out a slight moan. Her back arched against the tree as she allowed him to take her into his mouth deeper.

Bill’s hand travelled south, it made it’s way between her legs. He forced her thighs open, and slide his middle finger inside her. He felt her slickness as he finger fucked her into heaven. Alice’s eyes rolled back as she bit her her lip, Bill slid in a second finger and fucked her within an inch of her life up against the tree, as he nibbled and enjoyed her breasts at the same time. Alice panted and breathed heavy but that’s all he’d ever get from her.

For Alice secretly, this time things felt different with Bill. She felt a sense of satisfaction from the way his fingers worked her insides. Usually, her body would react in it’s normal way and she would become moist at his touch, however her internal feelings were always still numb. It was like her body had it’s own mind. Today she felt alive internally.

“Do I make you feel good Alice?”

“Hmm”

“You like that?”

“Hmm.”

Bill laughed at Alice’s response, or lack of it. He up’ed his game a little, he removed his hands from between her thighs, then dropped to his knees. With the hem of her dress pulled up she was on show for him, all of her. Without a second thought he leaned into her and put his mouth between her thighs to taste her slickness.

“Ohhhh.”

Alice lost herself control, for the first time she became verbally expressive.

Bill, got off on the reaction he caused from the usually mute Alice. He buried his head between her legs, and with his mouth set to work. He’d never given Alice head before, he usually saved that for girls that actually meant something. He’d had enough of Alice’s distant mute reactions, she now became a challenge sexually to get her to react to his touch.He pulled back to tease her and looked up at her. Alice smiled down at him, with a very satisfied look on her face.

Alice slid down the tree onto the wet grass. She spread her legs for Bill. For a moment Bill stood in front of her, and stared at her mound inviting him in. Alice, slid her hand between her leg and started to masterbate herself in a vicious way, Bill dropped to his knees. He gladly obliged and continued to service her with his mouth. As he dipped in and out of her with his tongue, and licked slowly and sofly the tip of her clitorious Alice foundled her own breasts. He watched in excitement as she squeezed, pinched and played with herself.

Bill felt like he was going to explode in his pants. He was more eager to explode on her arse.

“Get up, turn around.”

“Hmm.”

“Alice, you heard me get up and turn around c’mon I gotta go soon.”

Alice did as she was told and moved onto all fours. With her arse in the air he entered her from behind and pumped away until he exploded…. On her bare arse.

***

“Alice, Alice I’ve been waitin’ over one Goddamn hour for you. Where ya’ been?

“Nowhere Daddy.”

“Nowhere, don’t fuckin’ lie to me.”

Alice stood frozen at the entrance of the house. The musty smell of the house was drowned out by her fear. It  ran deeply through her had, she really been gone that long? Bill took her by surprise today, she never knew he could do what he did with his mouth, at twenty three years old she had no real girlfriends to learn from, and men never offered to do that before. She heard her dad wheeling his chair into the hallway. He stopped opposite her.

“Where you been?”

“No where Daddy–”

“Well that’s not the right fuckin’ answer is it? I sent you to town for the Goddamn chow and some food, ya come back here and tell me ya been nowhere? After ya been gone a fuckin’ hour?”

“I got it Daddy I got it, well I got the food but forgot the chow I’ll go back.”

Alice’s dad slowly wheeled his chair closer to her, his face twisted into a mean scowl. He he picked up a wooden stick that was within reach as he rolled forward. Pointing in Alice’s direction he began to curse her.

“You… you little bitch, ya forgot ma’ damn chow.”

“Daddy please no, don’t, not the stick, it hurts.”

“Hurts? Hurts? I’ll show you what fuckin’ hurts means.”

“Aww Daddy no, no please.”

“What… what is that? What the fuck is that smell? Alice ya smell even more disgustin’ than usual. Have you been in the woods again. Fuckin’ boys again?”

“No Daddy.”

“No Daddy.”  

He mocked in a whining voice.

“Slut!”

Alice felt the full throttle of her dad’s anger as he beat her with the wooden stick that came loose from the stair banister. It had sat in the corner of the hallway for months.

“Daddy no, please.”

A flashback of all the times Alice had walked the two miles to town in rain, snow, and anything inbetween came flooding back to her. Her anger built over the way her dad treated her mother, causing her to lose her mind.

“You, you you pervert fuckin’ pigs in the barn, you deserve to be in a wheelchair. After all I’ve done for you this is how you thank me.”

“Alice you better watch… your… mouth.” Tom responded as he beat her three times to punctuate his words.

“Fuck you! You freak.”

Before Alice could even live to regret her actions her dad was overturned on the hard dirty wood floor of the hallway. She yanked the stick from his hand with such a force his chair overturned. Tom’s face moulded from anger to fear in the space of seconds as Alice took control. He looked up at his only daughter as she stood above him. The rise and fall of her chest and deep breathing was enough to let him know, his luck had ran out when it came to bullying Alice. She pointed the wooden stick at him as she spoke down to him.

“Now,you are going to be taught a little lesson, Daddy dear.”

“Alice, you don’t know what you’re doin’. I’m your father.”

“Haha father!” Alice threw her head back mocking him with laughter. “You would not know how to be a father if it jumped up and spat in ya ugly face!”

“Alice, c’mon now.” Tom pleaded as he started to attempt to crawl away from her with his hands.

“Where do you think, you’re going?”

Alice pulled back her arms in the style of a baseball player and struck her father across the back.

Wack!

“ Awww! Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittttt! Alice for God Sake will you get me off the floor?”

“No, it’s time you learned a little lesson of your own, you shit for brains piss poor excuse of a husband and father. Wait here, oh sorry I forgot YOU’RE A FUCKIN’ INVALID YOU CAN’T MOVE!”

Alice let out a roar of laughter as she swung the bat back and beat her father around the head, face, ribs and groin area. Blood splattered all over her and the walls of the narrow damp infested hallway. Just like it had all those years ago he made her saw off that poor stranger’s head. She heard every crack of a bone, pop of of his skull and brake of his jaw. She loved it. It felt rejuvenated, after all the years of his bullshit.

“Alice, please, don’t do this please I’m–”

“Shut up! Just Shut up”

Wack!

“Awww fuck me Alice, Jesus, ya can’t do this” Tom strained to speak his slurred words through a cracked jaw.

“Poor mama, the poor woman lost her damn mind over you ya piece a-shit. Treated her like dirt, when really you were the dirty, a pig fucking dirt-bag at that. Take that ya bastard.

Wack!

Just like that, Tom’s lights went out. He was gone. Bloody, barely recognisable and in Alice’s eyes pathetic looking. For fun, she hitched up her skirt and pisssed all over him.

“There, that’ll teach you, Daddy.”

Pulling the hem of her dress down she stomped into her Daddy’s barn.

***

It was tough but she did it, she managed to drag her father’s lifeless and bloody body through the back door, out into the dark late evening and into the barn. There she placed down some sheets of plastic her father had left around and dumped him on top. Already covered in blood, that had matted her French braided hair, and smeared itself all over her face and hands. There she stood, in the barn with the pigs going wild to her left. Hungry and acting like savages in their cage at the smell of fresh blood.

Ruuuum rummmmmmm! Rummmm rummmmm!

Alice lifted her father’s chainsaw with a lot more ease than she did when she was thirteen, She sliced down on his thigh just above his knee, with a smile of pleasure a crack of laughter rang out as she watched her dad’s left leg fall away from his body. Into the wee hours of the night, Alice chopped up her father into bite sized chunks and fed his sorry ass to his beloved pigs. The devoured him, every last bone.

***

Five Years Later:

Alice stood at the window  and watched for Billy as he returned home. She listened out for his nosey truck making it’s way up the dirt road. She recentreed her mind to the present day, after she relived her night in the barn five years ago. The night she drummed up a theory about her father’s disappearance, once she fed him to the pigs and cleaned up. Word around town was, he had a terrible “freak accident” and must have fell into the river, as he hit a rock with his wheelchair, while he took an early morning “stroll” by the creek, before she woke up. Well, at least that’s what the police thought after they found his wheel chair overturned by the creek,with no one’s prints on but his.

Alice took a deep breath and looked down at her husband’s shirt. He’d been at it again, a smudged lipstick mark was on his collar. She never cared for lipstick and cosmetics, Alice was not that kind of woman, she never mastered the art of beautifying one’s self. For two months she had restrained herself and not caused a fuss or her suspicions about Billy and his floozy. She felt lucky to have Billy, he stuck by her after her father had his “accident”, and she was all alone. They got married six months after her dad disappeared, while no children had appeared yet she was hopeful, but that would be ruined with another woman in the picture. Of late Billy seemed distant, and uninterested. Secretly her inner voice said to her, if he comes home again smelling of perfume, or with makeup on his shirt, he’d meet a terrible fate in the barn just like her dad did.

Right on cue, Billy pulled up outside the house and jumped out his truck. Alice grit her teeth, narrowed her eyes into a frown, then moulded her face into the loving welcoming wife. She hid his shirt in her closet and made her way downstairs to the front door. It swung open just as she reached the bottom.

“Hey Billy, how was your day?” Alice greeted him in her most friendly, loving wifey voice.

“Ah same old, just work, work, work what’s for dinner.”

Alice narrowed her eyes, as she watched he walked past, he smelt of cheap perfume. She followed him with her gaze as he made his way into the kitchen.

“ Dinner? Oh… something reaaaaaaal special baby, just you wait and see.”

 

Left open for part two! 🙂

updated-telling-tales-weekly-challenege-kim-didi53

 

Thank you for all the votes for the writing prompts, Didi and I are always so appreciative for participation, comments, likes and voting.  I’ve NEVER wrote a horror story in my life, so this was a challenge and experience so thanks for the votes for this gory prompt! We both got so busy this week we forgot to announce the winning writing prompt. LOL. We promise this week we won’t … do write with us using the prompts. We’d love to see your stories.

This Is How Kim & Didi’s Suspenseful Collection Works!

We never discuss beforehand how a story should go or who writes what. It’s a surprise for each other to see how their story ends, or what lands in their inbox to finish off.

This interactive writing challenge is simple and insanely creative. It’s a group effort and we are so glad to have you join in the writing fun!!  I hope you’re ready to challenge us by choosing which prompts we can transform into stellar suspense!  Give us your best shot!  You vote on our weekly prompt, and we provide the entertainment. It’s that simple!  The super easy steps are as follows:

STEP ONE: Every Wednesday we’ll post a voting poll with a few prompts to choose from.
STEP TWO: With the click of a button, you cast your vote on a prompt. (voting will stay open for three days.) Once the winning prompt is announced you can join us and write a story too. Use #kdsuspense to link in.
STEP THREE: READ AND ENJOY!  Every week on the following Tuesday we will post the short story that transformed from the very winning prompt.

Read Previous Stories Here!

Week 1 Vol #2 Short Story: I’m Back Bitches,Now Panic! #kdsuspense #amwriting

Beach

“I’m back bitches, now panic!”

 

Author One Scene One:

I can see the pride and freedom in their faces. All five of them. Wearing skimpy bikinis and swim shorts, drunk and dripping wet from their recent dip in the ocean. Beachside in Hawaii, soaking up the sun with the money I’m rotting over. Freckles and all, especially Phyllis, the hag. She’s the mastermind of their entire little group. It used to be me, until Phyllis talked the others into setting me up. The biggest heist in Scottish history, and not only did I miss out on the fun, but I was the one convicted for the crime. What’s worse, I taught them bitches everything they know. How do they repay me? By framing me for millions stolen, and leaving me to waste away behind bars like a caged animal.

And now here I am, sitting in a cell and staring at a photo of my used to be crew. They’ll pay for what they did soon. I live for revenge, it really is the only thing that’s kept my dying body afloat. I can feel the cancer spreading through me. Like spilt paint, it fills every nook and cranny and then crusts there, making it impossible to scrub out. I don’t take the medicine anymore. It only makes me feel worse, and I’ve always refused the Chemo.

There’s no way I’m going to let this sickness take my fiery hair. It’s my trade-mark, helps to distinguish both personalities I portray. To everyone close I keep it curly and wild, usually tied in a giant crazy knot at the crown of my head with zero make-up and glasses to keep my face looking average. Only the few people closest to me get the pleasure of seeing my thick fiery mane the way I really like it. Straightened or waived, it flows perfectly to the curve of my back. I use only the best product as well the top make-up.

When on a job, my looks are perfected. Completely opposite of the plain Jane, sweetie sweet little girl next door type that I come off as, at a first glance on a regular day. It’s been six years since I’ve let the fierce me roam free. Six years since I thickened and curled my lengthy lashes to frame my big green eyes. Six years since was able to paint my full defined lips with my favorite velvety shade of scarlet to match my hair. I can’t fucking wait until tomorrow. Hamish better follow through with his promises. He’s had plenty of time to prepare my goods and a fake ID to get me out of the country, and away from the parole board. I’m sure they’ll be watching me like a hawk.    

The doctor gave me a year to live, and as of tomorrow I’ll be released on ‘good behavior’. I don’t need a full year, only a couple weeks… If that… I’ll finally get my revenge, and after that I don’t care how long the cancer gives me. I only care to see those bitches dead. Every last one of them. I’ve worked at my plan since the very day of my conviction. There was no point in fighting for an appeal. I’m a trickster, the best. Rather than fighting my charges for a second round, I used my time to play the part needed for an early release. The odds were better in my favor that way, and it worked. It takes time and discipline to do what I’ve done in here.

After the first six months served, I confessed fully to the crime I didn’t commit. Then I begged for the help of a priest and a therapist to get me on the right path. After all this time of playing the part I wanted them to see. I now have both religion and mental professionals on my side. No panel of judges can argue with that, especially when paired with the pity of cancer and two years of volunteering at the prison library, as a highly trusted inmate. I haven’t allowed a soul here to see through my act. No fellow inmates, guards, priests or doctors have seen any side of me other than the one I’ve wanted them to. Six fucking years. The stupid sorry saps actually believe that I want to live out the last measly year of my life in peace before the disease rots me from the inside out. They actually feel bad for me the fools.

Thank God for Hamish and our conjugal visits. We’ve been engaged for years, but I really don’t see the point in an actual wedding. I’m just going to die anyway. For the last three years he’s been able to visit the prison every few months and fuck my brains out. All the while whispering sweet not-so-nothings in my ear. He watches them for me. He knows exactly where they go and what jobs they land. Hamish keeps me up to date on every last one of those five motherfuckers. I’m all lined up with everything I need to finish them off. They’ll be holed up in Hawaii for the next month at some top dollar resort. Won’t they be surprised to see my smiling face, years sooner than expected, and just as deadly as always.   

“Two mar’ minutes, Miss McCarmick”

The guard shouts through my bars, my name rolling off her tongue with a thick scottish twang. Her chubby fingers are gripped tightly around a short beating stick, and she taps it a few times against a metal bar to get my attention.

“Yes mum.’”

I glance up and flash her my most innocent smile.

Roberta, my cell-mate, lowers herself next to me on the corner of my rock hard poor excuse of a bed. She’s nice, well to me anyway. Sort of like a mother figure. To most of the inmates she’s a crude old bitch, never putting up with their nonsense. Most of the women here are scared out of their minds of her. To me she’s like a mama bear, which is exactly what I’ve needed.

“You remind me a’ me wee one.” Roberta told me on the day we were paired in the same cell.

A few days later she made a name for herself, by sticking a butter knife through the palm of a woman who tried to snatch a biscuit from my breakfast plate, in the mass hall. Since then no one fucks with me. It’s perfect, because of her it’s been much easier to keep up the charade. The last thing I need is to loose my teetering temper when I’m trying so hard to play a kind hearted soul.

Roberta takes the photo from my hand and stares.

“Bet yer’ ready ta’ see um’. Yeah?” She asks.

“Yes mum, I miss me’ friends dearly.” I lie.

“Looks like fun ther’ gals. I’m happy far ya luv’. Ya don-a deserve to be in har’ with the rest of us’. Yer’ too sweet far’ a place like this.”

“Wall’ anyone can change mum.” I tell her with a suggestive wink.

Roberta’s laugh roars through our cell, husky with her smoker’s scratch.

“I’m a killer love, thar’s no changin’ that.”

I give her a tight hug. Roberta’s the only person I’ll actually miss from the last six years of my measly existence. It’s funny the irony. We’ve grown close based on my alter-personalities likenesses to her daughter. Yet the real me, the one I keep locked away, is so much like her it’s almost surreal. Listening to her stories, and spending so much time with her makes me ache to let my true self out. Soon, very soon I’ll have the freedom to seek the revenge I’ve lived for. I can practically taste it on the tip of my tongue.

“I’ll miss ya’, mum.”

I let my tangled hair loose and retie it in a tighter knot on my head. A few roaming curls tickle my forehead and the back of my neck. I suck in and exhale a few deep breaths as my guard leads the way. Her round hips swing, and a long pony tail swishes back and forth. My hand cuffs itch and the loose ankle chains clatter. I can’t wait to lose this metal baggage. I don’t have to wear them often, but when visiting the board it’s a must.

I take a seat in the lone chair set out just for me. Its light metal frame sets me right in the middle of a small room, windows on both sides, and the walls are a bright daunting white. Rather than avoiding eye contact like most inmates do, I hold a kind confident gaze with the four others who sit across from me. A long table separates me from three men and one woman. All dressed in their best and ready to pass the same judgement as they already have time and time again. My release was already cleared, but the last conversation with my releasing board is required.

Judge Aiken sits in the middle. He’s a foot taller than the rest and his skin a shade darker, tanned easily by the sun. He’s not the typical Scottish man. His blond hair is cut short and his blue eyes are on full display. He’s the same Judge that put me here in the first place, and the first to suggest my freedom.

“Miss McCarmack, are ye’ ready for the big day tomorrow?” Judge Aiken says.

“Yes sir.” I smile kindly, “Thank ye’ again for the faith in me.”

“I must say, your case is one ta’ remember. I’m happy to see the change in ye’”

“So am I sir,”  I act. “I’m glad to have found God, especially with my sickness.”

“Wall’ alright then. I expect you to be on your best behavior.” His thin brows lift in slight warning.

“Yes sir.”

“And your fiance ‘as cleared all the paperwork to pick you up in the marnin”

I nod, excitement rising in my belly as I listen to the Judge.

“He is to take you straight to the halfway house. You’ll stay thar far one whole month befar’ the two of ya’ will be allowed to move together’. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir.”

With that all four of them give my guard a nod. This is it. It’s finally happening. This time tomorrow night I’ll be on a plane to Hawaii. Dressed to impress and with my hair and face the way I like. Those fucking whores will never see me coming. I whisper under my breath on the walk back to my cell, “I’m back bitches, now panic.”

Author Two Scene Two

***

London, Heathrow Airport, 14:00 p.m

I close my umbrella on the light rain before I walk through the doors of the busy airport, into the Departures lounge. A feeling of excitement pools in my stomach. Last time I was on a plane I was in cuffs. I was extradited from Scotland to attend my trial at the Old Bailey Magistrates court in London for a crime I never committed. Yeah, I was the mastermind behind  it, I’m a con-artist after all, but I never committed it. All I was meant to do was collect my dough, and make sure everyone got paid. Phyllis decided to change that plan, her move is totally unforgivable.

  I’ve already checked in online and printed my boarding passes. I only have hand luggage with me, I head straight to the bathroom to change out of my “uniform” of plain clothing.  

Yesterday morning I landed at my halfway house with Hamish after my release, dumped my stuff and put in an appearance with my caseworker. I pleaded a great case, oh how grateful I am to be “saved” and how the Lord will guide me from here on out, as I live out my last days while this cancer eats away at me. I threw her off scent about what my whereabouts  will be over the next week. As far as she’s concerned I’ll be bed bound with my Bible and weak tea, studying the scriptures as I  repent my sins further. It was almost too easy, this double personality comes so naturally now. I can slip in and out of it quicker than you can flick a light switch. In the late evening I sneaked out of the halfway house with my hood raised, I hot footed it over to the railway station, and jumped on the last sleeper train from Edinburgh to London. It was mind blowing to step back onto the streets of London after six years inside, the quick pace everyone was walking at, finding my way around at the train station, as I navigated my way to the airport was almost overwhelming. The good thing about London is everyone fits in, no matter who you are no one batted an eyelid at my baggy jeans and oversized jumper.

One thing you learn as a con-artist is to step into the shoes of any and everybody, and never miss a business opportunity when it looks you in the face. As I waive my way through the busy Departures lounge, filled with travellers it feels like I’m in a sardine can, I smile to myself at this thought. What other profession is there that allows you to become whoever you want to be, portray whatever personality that takes your fancy? And not be classed as a nutcase… an actor, writer, stripper maybe? I dunno, either way, all I know is sniffing out a business opportunity to rip someone off is in my Scottish blood, it’s all I know. I see a unsuspecting blonde up ahead ten paces struggling with her bags. Clearly not prepared for the likes of people like me, the perfect opportunist.

“Oh sorry ma’am I never saw you there, I beg yer pardon.”

“It’s my fault all these bags, I shudda packed a wee lighter.”

As the dumb blonde focuses her attention back on her bags I knocked over, I lightly brush past her, then casually walk away toward the bathroom. Proud of myself that I’ve still got it, as I pocket her purse in the waistband of my baggy jeans. I know, small fries pick pocketing the innocent public, too bad, maybe next time she’ll remember to zip up her bag.

***

In the spacious cubicle I kick out of my jeans and jumper, then slip into something a bit more me. Hamish is a legend, when I arrived at the halfway yesterday,  he had all my shit together just how I like it ready to go. I unzip the bag and pout happily at my outfit. Over my head I slip on a nude strappy satin flowy top, then step into a pair of  white wide legged trousers that hug me in all the right places, before they widen at the leg. On my feet I don a pair of nude peep toe four inch heels. On top I slip on a white well tailored Alexander McQueen blazer. I open up the blonde’s purse check out her ID and pocket it along with her £200.00 cash. That will come in handy. I dump her purse in the ceristine of the toilet. Now, I hope Hamish hasn’t forgot to pack my cosmetics. I can’t walk out  dressed to kill without the finishing touches. He didn’t disappoint, stashed in the Karen Millen handbag I pull out a goody bag of cosmetic treats, everything from M.A.C to Kat Von D’s liquid matte lipsticks, he went to town! I also spy my fake passport and some cash. Dumping the canvas bag with my old clothing, I leave the cubicle and  make up my face in the mirror.

Stepping out the lady’s room I feel a million dollars and much more me. I confidently strut to security  and check for my flight on the screen. I see flight LAXL19657 is not delayed, perfect. With eighteen hours of flight time from London to Hawaii  I’ll  stop off in LA, meet Hamish who flew out last night, then pick up my connecting flight direct to Honolulu Hawaii.

***

Kicking back in the business section of the plane, I recline in my seat and finally relax. I hate the way airport security always make you feel as though you have something to hide.

Six years… I say it out loud and shake my head, I can’t believe they went against me, I can’t believe they were actually brave enough. The trip down memory lane is almost painful, as I block out the pretty air hostess swaying their hips, walking up and down the aisle checking everyone is buckled up and ready to depart.

***

 Six Years Ago The Flamingo Hotel &  Casino, Las Vegas:

“Hit, gimmie a hit and be good to me pretty lady!”

You’d hardly recognise me in my uniform and wig I’d wear to work, as part of the last scam we worked on. That’s right I had to get a “job” dealing cards in the casino to get us rich. I flip over a card and place down the five of hearts, on top of the queen of spades.

“Oh sir, yer so close, what’s it gonna be?”

Hamish winks at me ready to get into character and play his role. He looks great in his white  cotton sleeveless shirt, and well cut dark jeans. His skin glows with a sun kissed tan from the Las Vegas sun. He raises his hand to annotate his words.

“Fifteen! Jesus, oh boy this is a close one. What are my chances of lady luck being on my side tonight ? Fifteen is always an unlucky one for me, I always bust. Tonight, I’m on the wide side… hit me!”

I  peek from under my lashes around me, before I switch the cards expertly with ease, then flip over a six of diamonds. The crowd  around my Blackjack table go wild and cheer.

“Twenty one sir! Lady Luck herself is at the Flamingo Hotel tonight!” I announce.

To the outside eye Hamish is a very rich man, twenty five thousand dollars richer to be exact, it appears to spectators Lady Luck is on his side. He’s just an innocent man taking his chances on the cards, just like everyone else soaking up the thrill and rush Las Vegas casinos give you.

I look on through the crowd as everyone’s distracted, celebrating with Hamish. I spy  Kim and Didi  playing their part working the casino floor.  While all eyes are on the jackpot winner by my table, wallets are being lifted left right and center. I see what everyone else doesn’t.

 I watch Kim “accidentally” rub up against  an unsuspecting tourist and spills her champagne all over him.

“Oh, shit I’m sorry mate! Clumsy me ‘er lemme help you wipe ya-self down.”

I laugh at her in my head. The amount of times I’ve heard that line. From her own jeans pocket  she whips out a handkerchief and wipes down the man’s suit. I watch her lift his wallet from his  jacket pocket, distracting him with her apologies all the while.  She totters off in her heels without flinching. She always came across as too clever for my liking  now that I think about it, after all that’s happened. The street and book smart the bitch has got a mouth on her too. London born and raised, she became part of my crew the night she earned her stripes. I crossed paths with her in the bathroom at a nightclub in the upmarket district of Mayfair, in London. The cheeky bitch had the guts to lift my wallet from me, as she brushed past. I knew  what she did it takes one con to know another. When I spun her around and confronted her, she squared off with me in the bathroom, gripped my throat, pinned me up against the wall demanding to know who the fuck I was calling a thief? Bold as brass, an Oscar winning performance she denied it all, I’ll never forget it.  I cut her a deal told her if she worked for me her days of pick pocketing would be over. She bought me a cocktail and all was forgotten.

I look over at Didi setting to work, walking past all the casino’s guests with her brown eyes darting from left to right, seeking out the perfect opportunity.

Now Didi, that bitch is crazy don’t let the pretty innocent blonde, small town girl stereotype fool you. I bumped into her late one night. I was in the right place at the right time. I saw her in action  at 2:00 a.m at a liquor store over in Utah. I watched her tiny  figure roll right up to the clerk, pull a gun out from her waistband, point it in his face as she demanded in some of the most foul language I’ve heard, to fill the bag with cash by the time she counted to three. Once her bag was full, she shot him point blank between the eyes, later she confessed it was “ just for fun” even though the register was empty. I knew right then she’d be useful. As she ran out the store with her hoodie up and cash stuffed in her bag, Hamish caught her. He passed on my message, if she’s a dab hand at  stick ups, she could make a mint working for me. If we ever had a job needing her “skill set”.

Six years ago we all had one common goal Hamish, Didi, Kim, Phyllis, Diego, and me. Make money and that’s it. We spent a good six months ripping off punters and tourists that flock the many casinos in Vegas, lifting their wallets. For our second scam, Hamish was in a different disguise twice a week, playing his special role. Turns out Kim’s a dab hand with theatrical makeup artistry, she’d turn Hamish  into different men, all different races and ages. He’d be a jackpot winner at my table, while I manipulated the cards in his favor.

Once we had our fun and pocked enough dough, I innocently resigned from my role at the casino and disappeared a very rich lady.

We spent two months hiding out in the luxury resort in Cancun, Mexico, while I formed another mastermind plan to get us even richer. I had a link on the inside over at the Royal Bank of Scotland, a London branch was our target. Back then, plan was to left as much cash as we could from the bank. No stick ups, no robbery it was all about clever money laundering. We were successful until Phyllis got greedy, she was pissed that I was due to get a bigger cut of the money, and so I should have. I was the one who masterminded the whole damn plan, and had the link. When the crew and I returned to London, from Cancun her and those two other bitches Didi and Kim dropped me right in the shit.

***

 London, six years ago, outside The Royal Bank of Scotland:

“Okay girls this is it are we ready?”

“Phyllis are you sure she’s tryin-a  con us out of our money?”

“Kim, how many times have I gotta tell yer’ ? Yes, of course she is, she’s taking a full sixty percent cut while you, me, Didi, Diego and Hamish share forty percent. Does that sound fair?”

“I just don’t think she’d do it that’s all.”

“Kim, if you’re going to pussy out then go now, we can’t afford to fuck this one up. If you can’t be the getaway driver, we’ll find someone who will and give your cut to them.”

“Didi, I’m just sayin-”

“Fuck just sayin’ Kim, you in or out?”

“You better make sure your ass don’t get caught that’s all I’m sayin’ Didi we all know how trigger happy you get. And you Phyllis, keep an eye out!.”

“I’ve held up enough liquor stores to know what I’m doing, a bank can’t be that much more harder.”

“You’re one crazy bitch, Didi”

“That’s right. Now, put the car in gear and let’s go you’re lucky I don’t know how to drive on the left or I’d do it my damn self.”

“Phyllis you got the red wigs right?”

“Of course, let’s go. This is our evidence, got to make it look like she was one of robbers.”

***

“All right bitches, everyone on the floor and put ya hands behind ya head. Nobody move.”

“You heard her people, let’s go, that gun’s loaded and she will shoot.”

“You, fill up the bag now, all them notes back there are mine ya hear me?  Not just the sterling notes if ya got any dollars up in there they’re mine too. Any funny movements ya not gonna make it home tonight ya understand?”

“C’mon c’mon hurry up already! Shit mother-fucker let’s go I anit got all day.”

 

***

Can you believe that shit?  Didi held up the fucking Royal Bank of Scotland, dressed in a red wig to put me in the picture. Phyllis was the look out, Kim she was the getaway driver. She did it too, they picked a bank located not far from the motorway on the outskirts of London, for easy access to get away. Kim put her foot down. She drove that unmarked BMW  bad ass, just over two hundred miles up the M40  from London to Manchester.  When I saw the footage on the BBC News even I was proud of her, the five-oh couldn’t keep up with her swift lane changes. She threw ‘em off they crashed into a bollard and caused a massive pile up on the motorway.

To show you the kind of crazy these bitches are they staged their own crash, with a clever car switch organized by Diego, for a cut of the money of course. Those three bitches never got caught running off with my dough, Kim got them to Manchester in one piece.  

That’s not all, the bitches left my DNA everywhere in that bank. While we were in Cancun, turns out they were plotting and collecting hair from my hairbrush, ready for the big day. That’s the only thing I can think of, when the five-oh  arrested me part of the incriminating evidence was hair DNA that put me at the crime scene. As well as Didi in her red wig. Kim, hmm like I said she always was too clever for my liking, I’d put that DNA move down to her. She is in for it once I get hold of her.

So there you have it, I went down for a crime I never committed, had no knowledge of and was never part of. All because of Phyllis and her greed.

 

As I focus my mind back to the present, I say a silent prayer to myself as we take off the runway… destination LA.

***

LAX Airport Bar:

Lynn  MCcarmack, well well look at you live and in living color.”

I sigh a breath of relief as I watch Hamish swagger up to me, with his bag slung over his shoulder.

“Hamish boy am I glad to see yer. What’s the latest?”

“Hold on, where’s your ring?”

“Hamish I’ve got it don’t worry about it, tell me what’s been going on?”

“They’re still there in Honolulu at some top dollar resort, Diego is still with them too he’s not left the girl’s side.”

“Hmm wonder why?”

“Well there’s nothing going on but you know Phyllis, once she’s got her claws in she won’t let go.”

“So what’s the plan Lynn? Once we get over to Honolulu what are you gonna do with them?”

I look Hamish square in the eye over my tumbler of whisky, I needed a little pick me up after that long flight. I narrow my eyes in deep thought.

“Hamish, trust me the question is what aint  I gonna do with them.”

“Ah- ha! Now this I gotta see, drink up our flight’s been announced.”

***

Honolulu, Hawaii

I step out the airport beaming from ear to ear, the paradise before me just adds a little sweetener to my day. Eighteen full hours in traveling, finally I’m here.

“You got the address Hamish?”

“Don’t need it, I know it like the back of my hand.”

I watch him flag down a taxi, the driver pulls over outside the Arrivals exit, and jumps out to open the doors.

“After you my sweet.” Hamish says.

I smile a sweet smile and jump in.

“Where to please sir, ma’am?”

“The Waikiki resort, I’ll give you a shout where to stop off.”

As we ride along to the resort I don’t know if it’s the almost forty degree heat, the blue sky, the sight of palm trees lined up along the street, or the thought of finally confronting my old crew members that makes my heart sing. Either way, this place is paradise. To think six years ago all this beauty would have been an everyday thing for me. The clear water, white sand, exotic locations around the world were like a second home to me, right after Scotland. The contrast of the two environments is big, I know where I’d rather be, but Scotland shaped me into who I am, and will always be home.

Thirty minutes later we step out of the taxi into the harsh midday sun, a slight breeze blows from the sea literally across the road. I look around as Hamish pays the driver, the cunts made sure the picked the best of the best, beach front, great views on what appears to be a lively strip.

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be Hamish.”

We walk up to the lavish complex building, white washed, sparkling windows, open front balconies. It screams glamour,wealth and money. Stopping at the gate, Hamish looks around then taps a code in on the pad, the gate opens.

“Bingo!”

“How do yer find out the code?”

“Inside job, don’t ask.”

I smirk, at Hamish, some things never change. Behind the gates a pool greets us, the luxury makes my blood boil even more, standing back in the bushes I observe what looks like an average day. Kim sitting pretty at the table with a large sun hat on, with her nose in a fashion magazine, Didi with her sunglasses low sunning herself on a lounger, Phyllis doing laps in the pool and Diego preparing a BBQ, cutting up strips of meat. Hamish and I look at each other and smile. Finally, I’ve got them, finally revenge is going to be mine. I chew the inside of my lip the feeling is so sweet.  I’ve dreamed of this day for six  years. I imagined all kinds of scenarios  for the day we finally met, never did I imagine I’d fly thousands of miles to paradise to confront them.

“Go get ‘em tiger.” Hamish teases me.

I throw my fire red mane back and strut out from behind the bushes, toward the pool area, Hamish follows behind me.

“Well, I hate to spoil the party guys is there space for one more?”

Four pairs of eyes look up at me, their mouths hit the floor. Kim raises an eyebrow in my direction, Didi puts her poker face on show. Diego reaches for a knife from the table. Phyllis almost drowns herself in the pool at the sight of me, but she’s the first to panic.

“Lynn Lynn OMG you’re… you’re… what  ya doing ‘ere you’re out early? Listen ya gotta hear me out, they made me do it, Didi an’ Kim they made up all kinda shit about you I had no choice.”

“Lying bitch, you were the ring leader! I know all about it. That’s right I’m back bitches, now panic.”

Nicely left open so we can do part two if we get a good response!!

Kim and Didi.jpg

This Is How Kim & Didi’s Suspenseful Collection Works!

We never discuss beforehand how a story should go or who writes what. It’s a surprise for each other to see how their story ends, or what lands in their inbox to finish off.

This interactive writing challenge is simple and insanely creative. It’s a group effort and we are so glad to have you join in the writing fun!!  I hope you’re ready to challenge us by choosing which prompts we can transform into stellar suspense!  Give us your best shot!  You vote on our weekly prompt, and we provide the entertainment. It’s that simple!  The super easy steps are as follows:

STEP ONE: Every Wednesday we’ll post a voting poll with a few prompts to choose from.
STEP TWO: With the click of a button, you cast your vote on a prompt. (voting will stay open for three days.) Once the winning prompt is announced you can join us and write a story too. Use #kdsuspense to link in.
STEP THREE: READ AND ENJOY!  Every week on the following Tuesday we will post the short story that transformed from the very winning prompt.

100 Words Wednesday Short Story: The Cocktail Bar #100wordswednesday #100WW

It’s Wednesday and another challenge from Bikurgurl. What 100 words (or so) can you give this image? It’s great that every Wednesday her post is live on my feed as soon as I wake up. I set up my son with his breakfast, make a coffee and mull over the picture. This week’s photo of cocktails spoke to me, it prompted a short story/ flash fiction. I’m a little over 100 but… I write novels don’t shoot me!

 

100ww_w30.jpg

 

 8:00 p.m Friday Night, The Cocktail Bar,

 I glance around the bar looking for my date. Hell, not that I know who I’m looking for this is a blind date. Lucy bless her she set me up with some guy from her office, she thinks is “perfect for me.” I couldn’t pass up a night of free cocktails, I thought what the hell you only live once. 

The air is thick with cigar smoke and the lights are low, all eyes focus on centre stage as a Jazz band entertains the crowd. I spot him over by the bar nursing a drink. That has to be him right? I make my way over closing the gap between us, as I snake my way through the tables. What do I say? My heat pounds, what if it’s not him?

“Hi I’m Julie.”

“Hey, I’m Brian.”

He offers me his hand as he glances me over from head to toe. Is it him? He snaps his fingers at the bar tender.

“Put another one in there for me.” He demands.

As  the bar tender makes quick work of his drink and slides a fresh tumbler across the bar, I  drink him in. He’s handsome and well dressed, but is it him? He’d know me by name surly.

“So you been here before Julie?” 

“No never, I’m… I’m… here meeting a friend you could say.”

“Ah a date?” He sniggers  then takes a healthy sip of his scotch to hide his amusement. He snaps his fingers again at the bar tender. Clearly Brian is used to being the authority.

“One for the lady too, what’s your poison Julie?”

I raise an eyebrow in his direction. “Cosmopolitan.”

***

 After two hours of conversation against the back drop of smooth jazz, and four Cosmopolitans thrown back, I’m tipsy and dateless. Old whats-his-name did a no-show. His loss… As Brian and I stumble into the back of a black cab from London Bridge to his place, the Cosmopolitans start talking to me. “You only live once! That’s why you went on this date.” Cocktails were always my weak spot, as well as a man in a sharp suit smelling good.

 

Now It Feels Real!! The Postman Just Arrived Arrrgh!! @Didi_Oviatt #newrelease #kdsuspense #amreading

wp_20170730_002.jpgNow it all feels even more real, to see my latest works in paperback, not just on Amazon in e-book. To feel it physically in my hand makes my heart race! Didi Oviatt and I done it!! Our debut work together  in one anthology all 50,000 odd words of it. So proud to have this author’s name on a cover with mine, she’s extremely talented and  a friendship has grown.  The covers look fantastic, even if I say so myself. Really chuffed with both books.  Didi and I will be back at the end of July… which is like next week! With Kim and Didi’s Suspenseful Collection spinning tales for you. I look forward to it.