This Flash Fiction piece is all about turning the table. Pursuing the pursuers.  Motives that began with revenge, but have transformed into a game of self-gratifying need.

In the end, we are left with the tough choice of whether or not to root for the Just.

The adrenalin reaction is waning quicker each time. This is the fifth, and already my excitement is just about spent. It’s been what, five or six minutes now and my breathing seems normal, my heart has quit beating against my breastbone, and my hands have quit sweating.

After the first one, I stayed awake all night. I suppose that it was due mostly to fear, but I remember that my body also felt electrified every time I recounted what I had done. Long after the fear subsided, I would tingle when I thought of how a life came to a sudden halt at my hands.

In fact, the original purpose of the killings is starting to become less of a priority than the excitement of the hunt. Alanis sang about hunting the hunter, but I don’t believe she knows how much fun it really can be. The lurking, laying in wait, setting the trap, and luring the supposed superior prey to its death. After all that work, the killing is like a grand prize, and I feel that I have earned each one of them. I mean, it isn’t like I am in complete safety when I play this game. There are those who are trying to snare me and put a stop to my fun, not to mention the fact that my prey is caught up in their own game filled with hidden motives.

Now the excitement is gone, even before my victim has quit bleeding. Look at the body, sprawled on the cheap carpet, next to the uncomfortable bed. In the stained curtain filtered neon light that body is so ugly, no will to flex muscles or suck the gut in to satisfy some lying self-image. The prize has withered away and already I feel the urge, no, the need, to hunt again.

What fun that would be, to do two in one night. Is it possible? There is a laptop set up on the desk, and it looks like it’s hooked-up and ready to surf. God, I can feel my pulse begin to rise again. I’m gonna try it.

This one will be purely for me. Something to totally satisfy my appetite. After this one though, I’ll get back to work for Maggie and Mom and Dad. Work to avenge my sister and my parents’ suicides when they saw what happened to Maggie in a hotel room like this.

“Welcome”, says the programmed voice. Yeah, welcome to my game.

Studly1 : Hi BrandyWine. Cum….er…..come here often?
BrandyWine : LOL….That’s a cheesy pick-up line
Studly1 : It wasn’t meant to be…..but…..
Studly1 : A/S/L
BrandyWine : 14/F/Xenia, Ohio
Studly1 : WOW! I’m in Bellbrook……I’m 19 and ALL male
BrandyWine : LOL……Really now….ALL male and that close…..hmmmmm….
Studly1 : I bet you gotta a boyfriend, as cute as you sound
BrandyWine: Actually, I just dumped my 5th guy in the last month and I could really use a hug.
Studly1 : awwwww……well…..your parents around?
BrandyWine : No….they’re away
Studly1 : How ‘bout we meet up somewhere?
BrandyWine : That’d be great. I know a guy who’d let us use his room……I don’t think he’d mind.

No, I don’t think he’d have anything to say about it at all.

© 2010, Alex Crabtree. All rights reserved.

Years ago I started writing Flash Fiction for just the sheer enjoyment of writing, and now it has turned into a full blown addiction. I can't quit the horse, man! Another dirty little secret about me is my ability to write all kinds of web content. SEO content, articles, blog posts, manifests; you name it, I'll write it. Looking for some help? My gun hangs at r.alex.crabtree@gmail.com

Alex Crabtree

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This entry was posted on May 25, 2010 at 12:00 pm and is filed under Fiction, Flash Fiction. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.