Mouse and Cat Read online

After what seemed like only a moment he slowly opened his eyes. A sudden rush of pain throbbed through his body. He felt as if he had been dragged down the stairs and quite literally he had. There was a cut to the back of his head surrounded by exposed dry blood. He felt weak. He looked around as she moved in front of him.

  ‘Welcome to hell, the place of such horrors for me. A room I’ve longed to forget. As you’ll notice, I have tied you to the same chair that you tied me to so many times when you abused me, using the same soft rope. The rope you once described as your pleasure rope,’ she cringed at that thought.

  ‘Not very comfortable is it?’

  His jaw tightened. ‘What are you going to do to me?’

  ‘I’m going to end my nightmare, tonight I’ll finally be able to sleep properly, knowing there’s no chance you’ll ever touch me again.’

  ‘Please,’ he begged. ‘I’ll do anything.’

  ‘You should have thought about that ten years ago.’ She checked the chamber of the gun counting the bullets. She closed it back up. ‘For years you told me to lie to everyone or else you would kill me; bruises had been done by a bully in the street, tears caused by emotions I never had, denying the emotion that I did have. I had to lie and for what cause? To help cover up your sick lust.’

  ‘That’s not true!’ He protested.

  ‘You know it is,’ she pointed the gun at him and with force pushed it against his head.

  ‘My nightmare has to end right now, this very night.’

  ‘Please, for the love of god, no!’ Frank pleaded.

  ‘Shut up, it’s too late now.’

  Seconds turned to minutes as she slowly increased the pressure on his skull. For the first time in her life, she saw a tear in the corner of his eye. A sight that made him human, a sight that showed he had emotions, but harder still, she pushed, her hand was shaking uncontrollably. She found it increasingly hard to hold steady the gun. Her finger was poised on the trigger; beads of sweat not only appearing on him but her as well. Waiting and waiting until...‘I just can’t do it.’ She removed the gun leaving a red ring on his forehead. ‘I...I just can’t shoot you.’ Her shaking hand dropped the gun.

  He sighed with relief. ‘Please, just let me go.’ His voice trembled. ‘You will never hear from me again. I will move house. I’ll do whatever you ask of me. I’ll go to South

  America, Asia, you name it, and I'll be gone.'

  ‘No, I’m not a killer, but you will die, most likely starving to death, I have no other option. Moving house, burning the place down or whatever will not hide the fact that you are still alive roaming the streets for another victim.’

  ‘But that’s still murder,’ he stated.

  Sophia shook her head. ‘I don’t see it that way,’

  ‘But you’re trapping me, practically sending me to my death.’

  ‘Not really, you signed your death sentence years ago. If you manage to break free then fair enough, but remember, as you always told me, screaming won’t help, no one will hear you.’ She picked the gun up and hit him once more. ‘There is one bullet, use it wisely.’ She placed it on the floor out of his reach.

  Sophia turned around walking up the stairs from the basement. She took one final look back. Just before she closed the metal door Frank screamed her name. That was the last sound she heard as the door shut and she locked each bolt. Finally, she was calm, and her hands had stopped shaking. She locked the large oak door and left the house forever, now believing her nightmare was finally over. The cat was now the mouse, caught by his own trap.

  ---

  The following is the reveal to The Dead Crow, which is due for release in the Fall of 2014. More information on this exciting tale can be found on my website.

  London, 1882

  My name is Dr. William Blackmore, and this might be my final entry.

  The pen shakes unforgivingly in my hand as I think of London. A city filled with murder and corruption, a city divided by the rich and the poor. Stuck in the middle are men like me, struggling to find their way. We’ll never reach the top, in the continual ascent, the constant clawing at the heels, only to be dragged back into the cesspit of the city. But for all my endeavours that failed somewhat, I felt I was lucky in other ways. I had a lovely little town house filled with love, and that love was created by Charlotte, my wife; the soul essence for my existence. Notice the words was and had. Something terrible happened, and what followed was out of my control, on the surface, at least, though it seemed that I was in full control.

 

  My wife, carrying my unborn child, was taken. What they did to her was unimaginable. The horror that I saw on that day would forever scar me. What followed, however, was mayhem, a bloody carnage that I am now coming to regret. Thinking of Charlotte looking down on me right now sends quivering shockwaves of sadness through me. She would be disappointed, but what is done is done, and I can't turn back the clock. Oh, how cruel fate is to us lesser men, tiptoeing on hollow ground waiting for the final blow, an uncontrollable blow that will come sooner rather than later for some men.

  This is my story.

  This is my end.

  Dr. William Blackmore

  My Links

  https://www.benkalcher.com/

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  My other short stories

  Trust No One

  How can you trust someone that you've met online? Someone you've been talking to for only a

  month? Someone you've never actually met in person? What if that person wasn't interested in

  you but someone you hold dear? Someone like your daughter?

  Chris seems like your normal, honest, loved up guy, but he holds a desire that Heather isn't

  aware of. Emily, her only child is his desire; a daughter of his own, someone he can mould

  into his own.

  A troubled childhood made him the man he was and that impacted on all his relationships.

  This one though wasn't going to be like those past ones. Getting past the woman he was luring

  into a fake relationship was the ultimate task, succeeding that his life would be complete.

  A Dead Cold Night

  The coldest of winter nights, a scene of a robbery and a cold blooded murder in plain sight of

  Officer Jenny Blackman. Hidden and unarmed she feels powerless until the killer escapes into

  the snowy night. In pursuit Jenny must stop the killer escaping and bring them to justice. But

  how well does she know the killer?

  Dear Jane

  1944, the world is at war. Loved ones remain at home as Husbands, fathers, sons and brothers

  fight for freedom in World War Two. The only way of communication back home was via V

  Mail. For most back home, one of their biggest fears was a letter confirming the death of a

  loved one from another loved one.

  Dear Jane is a short story set as a letter sent home from the front line. Jane's fiancé and

  brother were deployed to England to help liberate France and the rest of fallen Europe. On

  one of the first missions Jane's fiancé Joe, was hit by a sniper just outside of Saint-MereÈglise.

  Will, Jane's brother had the duty to send a letter home explaining what happened.

  My work is also available through all major online retailers.