The Mysterious Case of the Bloody Staircase

Another one of my flashfiction February prompts, this one where I needed to show a character attribute without actually naming in. No idea how I did on it, not my favorite. It was based on the title, and was a demo piece to explain how the challenge worked.

When the scream rang out, she ran towards it. She paused only to grab a first kit from the wall when she saw the bloody hand-prints on the railing. She yelled of calling the police as she ran down the staircase, and ignored the fleeing figure when she saw the crumpled body on the landing. She staunched the bleeding where she could, glad for the sound of sirens growing louder with every passing moment. She herself to relax once the paramedics took over, she may have saved someone, even if two others didn’t make it. Today, was a good day.

The attribute was bravery, which in this case borders stupidity, as there is a killer involved, but it’s a fine line….

Perfect Match

What you may notice this year is a prevailing theme of murder in my stories. I was watching Prodigal Son, Criminal Minds, and Perception when I was writing a lot of my stuff up and apparently it sunk in. If murder isn’t your thing, look for murder in the tags. This one is a “murder spouses” theme

We were together three years before I found out he was killing people when he said he was out hunting with his buddies. He was hunting all right, but when I dropped by with snacks, it wasn’t a deer he was cutting up at the cabin.

The look on his face was priceless, and almost as good as the look he got when I showed him how I really spent my “spa weekend with girls”. There were girls, but it wasn’t mud that I was bathing in.

It was tough at first, the sense of betrayal we both felt, being lied to. Knowing that we were both capable of lying about something of this magnitude, it was a lot. We even split for a while, I stayed with my Mom, but then slowly, but surely another thought came over me. I got all done up and went out to the hunting cabin and walked in, kicked my boots off, and I quietly entered the bathroom, feet squishing in the blood soaking the mat in front of the tub where she lay bound and bleeding. I picked up a knife and just when she thought I was there to free her, I ran in down her arm lightly, reveling in the way the blood beaded up, and then ran down her arm in small delicate rivulets.

That’s when he walked in, , and when he saw me there, the yell died mid-word and he smiled at me, the way he smiled when we first met, like I was his whole world, and I knew then that we would get past this. That we could do this, together.