Play Dead

13

May 30, 1960

Once again, it was time to kill. Victim Number Two.

Tears filled the killer’s eyes. I don’t want to kill this one. I really don’t want to. He was an innocent victim in all this.

But maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he was to blame. And maybe his death could finally lead to peace. Maybe his death would be a good thing in the long run. The innocent die all the time. Sacrifices must be made. Occasionally, the ends do justify the means. That was just the way of the world.

That argument was not very convincing.

The time had come. Without warning, the killer silently jammed the steel instrument of death into the helpless victim. Blood came pouring out in large doses, doses larger than the killer had expected. The dark red liquid seeped onto the floor, staining everything in its path.

It all ends so quickly, the killer thought, watching as Death claimed yet another life before its time.

The killer stood and turned toward the accomplice. The accomplice remained huddled in the shadows, watching with horrified eyes. ‘Clean up the remains,’ the killer said coolly. ‘Make it fast.’

‘Do I have to?’

‘Yes. Now hurry.’

The accomplice had taken less than two steps when the door behind them flew open.

Both the killer and the accomplice gasped and spun around. A very young child peeked her head through the doorway. The little girl did not get a very good look at the room, but she saw blood. Lots of blood. Her scream pierced the silent room.

‘Mommy! Mommy!’

‘Get out of here, Gloria! Get out of here now!’