Green Eyed Monster

jealousy

Sometimes, like the devil, jealousy whispers persistently in your ear.
The green-eyed monster, you have to fight him!

Celine and Cassie were best friends, and had been since Kindergarten. They shared everything, including head lice because their heads, full of bouncy curls, were always together. They went to the same college, shared an apartment, shared a car, but things came undone when they both fell in love with the same man.

He was tall with a mop of thick black hair. His eyes were the deepest blue. He as French and from the moment he opened his mouth, they were both smitten.

“Lets just stay away from him,” Cassie said, “that way nothing can happen, he won’t date either of us and we can continue living our lives just as we always have. He probably doesn’t like us anyway, so we shouldn’t worry.”

She knew different though. She already had a second date with him, they’d already kissed. She told Pierre not to mention it to Celine, she didn’t want her to know. He agreed. As she saw more of him, Celine grew suspicious.

“Where have you been?” Celine asked on night when Cassie got in late.

“I’ve been working out.”

It made sense, she did smell a little, her hair was a mess and her make-up smudged. It started to happen a lot though. Cassie began to follow her. One night Cassie didn’t come home at all. She was gone the following day too. When she finally turned up late in the evening, her eyes shone and she was flushed.

“What have you been up to?” Celine said, her eyes narrowing.

“I’ve met a boy.” Cassie said, “I didn’t want to tell you, but I do now. I think I’m in love.”

“Why did you keep it a secret? Why didn’t you let me meet him?”

Cassie hung her head, “Because you know him. It’s Pierre.”

“You goddamn lying bitch, we agreed to stay away from him. You know I like him.”

Cassie walked across the room. Celine met her half way.

“I’ve been following you. I’ve seen what you’ve been doing. I watched you together you slut! He only wants you for sex.”

“Cassie held out her hand, a diamond sparkled from her engagement finger.”

“He loves me, look, we’re engaged.”

Celine looked odd, he right eye twitched. Her face contorted in anger. She trembled. The room seemed to go a shade darker. She grabbed Cassie by the throat with superhuman strength and pushed her backwards towards the wall, banging her had violently. Blood ran down the yellow paint.

“Celine stop, you’re hurting me.”

“Not nearly enough.” Cassie reached behind her and grabbed a meat cleaver. She’d placed it on the table earlier. Her first intention was to scare Cassie with it. Now she wanted to kill her.

Celine’s eyes looked green, scary and she smiled a deranged terrifying smile as she dragged Cassie towards open window and sank the knife into the top of her head. She didn’t look so happy now.

Below Pierre waited  for Cassie to call him. He knew she was going to tell Celine they were an item. The were engaged and Celine would be the first to know. She’d make a beautiful bridesmaid. Shame she was a closet lesbian. He’d been attracted to her first, until Cassie told him he was wasting his time, she preferred women.

He saw two shapes in the window of their 4th floor apartment. Getting out of the car, he locked the door. It was time to go up and celebrate.

He crossed the road and stood beneath the window, looking up, waiting for one of them to wave at him. Cassie’s face appeared, she opened her mouth to shout at him. He smiled!

Cassie was dead before she fell. The meat cleaver had taken off the top of her head. It was still lodged in her brain when she fell on top of Pierre, it hit him between the eyes. He died instantly.

Their blood mingled and surrounded them on the sidewalk.

Celine looked down at them before stabbing herself in the shoulder.

“Help, HELP!” she yelled from the open window, “I’ve been attacked. He killed my friend, won’t somebody call an ambulance. HELP!”

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Let me die along with my friends!

BodyLindsay hung onto the branch for dear life waiting for the mayhem to stop. Her ears were ringing as though someone had sounded a tuning fork in her head. She was hit in the face by an object she didn’t see coming. Blood dripped into her eyes but she felt no pain. Dear God let this be over. She thought about letting go, ending it all. The sole survivor of the hellish fire, she wanted to die. Death must be better than this!

“Who’s there?” Lindsay asked, feeling she wasn’t alone. The hairs on the back of her neck bristled and she felt a chill running down her spine. Her hands slipped a little and her toes hit the cold water.

Just let go Lindsay, join your friends. You deserve to be with them. You’re as guilty as they are. You bloody English thing you own the world.”

“What?” Lindsay looked up and saw a shadowy figure standing above her on the path. It was Colleen. Her terrible beautiful face was contorted in pain and anger, her dress red with blood. A shadowy figure formed by her side.

“Come on Patrick, let’s go now. There’s nothing for us here!”

Patrick? The shadows faded, merged with the breeze. Back on the water, shapes appeared, a shoe floated past, part of a backpack, a plastic bag, a glove with something trailing out of it.

Oh God, there’s a hand in there.

“Help, can somebody help me.” Lindsay shouted.

She was surrounded by silence, but not for long. Voices approached, shouting in panic, followed by footsteps.

“Lindsay, hang on. Bill, Steve, make a human chain get her off that branch, it’s not going to hold much longer.”

She looked up to see Barbara and two other police officers. They were reaching down to her.

“Take my hand love.”

Lindsay obeyed, but daren’t let go of the branch.

“I’ve got you. You can trust me.”

She did as she was told and felt herself being pulled to safety.  She collapsed weakly to the ground and looked back towards the river. The glove had floated out of sight. A human shape had taken its place. It floated lifelessly, face down in the deep dark water.

Patrick? Could that be him? Is he with his sister now? For a moment no one moved.

One of the Police Officers sprung into action, pulling off his shoes and jacket. “I’m going in, I’m a strong swimmer.” He plunged into the cold water and made short work of reaching the shape, pulling it easily to dry land. Lindsay was aware of a gathering crowd, some of whom helped pull the lifeless body out of the river.

A woman pushed her way through the crowd. “I’m a nurse”, she said and tried in vain to resuscitate the man. Someone else bound the stump of his arm, where his hand used to be.

Lindsay knew it was too late. Patrick had joined his sister.

“Who is this, do you know him?” Barbara asked.

Lindsay opened her mouth to speak, but screamed instead. A second shape appeared in the water. It was Michael!

Oh the stories that rattle around in my brain. Check out my first novel Dead of July is available on Amazon for $0.99. Give it a try. 

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson

 

 

 

Fear the Dead

MooreC290724“Colleen?” Lindsay said, “This has something to do with you?”

Oh Michael, she’s bringing trouble to you? Leave her now. Where’s my Johnny boy? Where is he then? Johnny, save your brother, Michael strays.

“In the name of God leave us be, go away, nothing good can come of this. You’re a good Catholic Colleen, rest now.”

I’ll rest when I’m done Michael; there are lives to be paid for.

The room warmed up and the shadows shrank back into the corners. Lindsay was curled up in a ball, her head in her hands. When the impossible conversation stopped she looked up.

“What the hell was all that about. Did your brother start the bloody fire? Did he murder my friends? Am I imagining it or were you talking to the dead? I’m going crazy I have to be. Get out now.”

“Put your shoes on, let’s go for a walk.”

“No I don’t want to walk. I don’t want to be around you. How can I trust you? Who the hell is Colleen and why do I hear her voice in my house?”

“Lindsay, put your shoes on, lets walk. I don’t want to talk here inside. Lets walk.”

Lindsay reluctantly got up and found her shoes.

“Is there somewhere quiet we can walk, away from the roads and people?”

“I’m not sure I want to be alone with you, I feel safer with people around. Maybe you’re here to finish the job. I’m the only survivor.”

“I don’t want to hurt you Lindsay, I just don’t want to bring you anymore trouble. I love my brother, but I don’t want him to see us together. He’s not fond of the English.”

“Oh, great!” Lindsay said, “Lets walk by the river, you’re not likely to push me in are you?”

“No I’m not.”

They left through the back door and crossed the playing fields. A group of teenagers were kicking a ball around, football practice, but no one paid them any attention, or so they thought. Neither of them saw Michael’s brother Johnny. His green pants and sweater merged in with the hedgerow. He watched them walk towards the river.

Dammit, he thought, another soul lost to the unbelievers. My own brother!

You know what to do Johnny boy, take care of it.

Dead of July my first novel is about a young British Army wife and the trouble she got herself into in Germany in the early eighties. In that story she got into trouble with the Russians, not the Irish. Give it a try.

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson

 

 

Revenge

“I dug the key into the side of his pretty little souped up four-wheel drive, carved my name into his leather seats”

Mary Jo sang along with the Carrie Underwood  song as she drove along the dark winding country road. A bottle of Jim Beam occupied the passenger seat next to her. She chugged from the bottle as she drove, making sure not to spill any. She’s spent her last twenty dollars on it and wanted to enjoy the taste of whiskey while she watched the show. Her private show! Seduction and Revenge! She would have a front seat view.

Ten minutes later she reached her destination and pulled slowly off the road. She drove carefully through the trees until she was sure her car was no longer visible. After taking another gulp of whiskey, she opened the trunk. Mary Jo smiled as she looked at the two full cans of gasoline. She checked her pocket to make sure she still had the lighter, yes it was there.

“You’ll never cheat on my again you bastard” she said as she made her way through the trees to the double wide trailer that was set on an open patch of land. The lights were on and she saw the naked silhouette of her husband of ten years in a passionate embrace with figure of Lucy, the barmaid from his favorite watering hole. She lived alone in the trailer, her den of seduction.

Lovers___silhouette_by_vallo29

“Bitch, I’ll teach you.” she said as she edged closer,  loosening the top of the gasoline cans as she went. The smell excited her.

She glanced once more at passionate display that stabbed her heart with such ferocity she could barely breathe. Gently she poured gasoline onto the sides of the trailer, making no noise. It dripped onto the dry grass below, perfect. Every few seconds, she stopped and listened. The only sound she heard was that of passion. Sighs and  moans of a cheating husband and his whore.

Angrily she tipped the last of the deadly liquid on the steps by the door. She wanted to make absolutely sure no one escaped.

She set light to a gasoline soaked rag and dropped it onto the steps before standing back to admire her work, watching the flames envelop the trailer. After a couple of minutes she turned her back on the inferno.

“Burn in Hell” she whispered as she walked away.

Do you know how this ends? Stop by next week to see what happens next!

My first novel, ‘Dead of July’ will be released in December. Watch out for it.

Dead of July (Small)

THE ROAD TO HELL! (The end of the Family)

As it grew dark, the rain got heavier.

I looked at the clock on the dashboard. Plenty of time to get to the airport and leave England for good. Good Bloody Riddance to it. It had brought me nothing but grief. Then I laughed, until now, I thought.

I had been back in the country for almost a year, a very rewarding year. I had murdered my nasty greedy brother, and my evil father. It had been a very rewarding year. The best year of my life in fact.

I looked down at the white gloves on the passenger seat of the car. I should get rid of them, I thought, with forensics and things, they may track my father’s death back to me.

I opened the window and threw them out.

I could see the lights of the airport in the distance and longed to be on the Boeing 777 to Rome, leaving this God awful country behind me.

Car crashThe car engine spluttered, I looked at the fuel gauge, over half a tank, so why was it spluttering?

The engine died and I coasted to the side of the road. Great, I was in the middle of nowhere. I grabbed my mobile phone. No signal. Damn.

I started to walk along the road, if I had to hitch a ride to the airport, so be it. I just wanted to get away.

I heard the noise of an engine. A car approached and soon the headlights illuminated the road. I stuck out my thumb, and to my delight and amazement, it pulled over. Without looking at the driver, I got inside. Sitting in the backseat, I opened my purse and without looking up I said.

“I don’t care how much I have to pay you, just get me to the airport”.

I pushed a wad of money towards the driver and then looked up to see why he wasn’t accepting it.

“Oh my good, Jerry, is that you?”

“Hello sister dear.”

“You’re dead, how can this be. Why is the car going so fast? Who’s driving this thing? Dad, what are you doing here? Let me out.”

The two faces continued to grin at Angie as she struggled with the door handle. The speed of the car increased, 70, 80, 90 miles an hour on the dark winding country road.

“Angie dear, we’ll be together forever now.” Jerry said. “Isn’t that why you killed me, so you could be with me.” His manic laugh was ear shattering.

The bony skeletal hand of Angie’s father reached out and touched her, “Can I get that hug now Angie?”

The car veered off the road and into the woods “Noooooooo!” Angie yelled, but it was too late. The car hit a tree and crumpled. She wasn’t wearing a seat belt.

The following morning the police were puzzled. There was no sign of a driver in the wrecked car. Only a dead mangled backseat passenger wearing white cotton gloves. A tragic accident, made even more tragic by the death of the victim’s father earlier that afternoon.

 

Dead of July (Small)

 

 

Murder in the Family

Angie walked into the nursing home and was immediately greeted by an old lady with bright blue eyes.

“Hello, have you come to take me home?” she said.

“What?” Angie replied. “I think you have me mixed up with someone else. I’m here to kill my father.”

The old lady walked away, her head drooping in disappointment. “They left me here, no one ever comes to get me.” she said looking over her shoulder one last time. Angie laughed because the old crony had no idea she had just admitted she was about to commit murder.

“Hello, I’m the matron here, sorry Kathy lives in hope of getting out of here. She has run away several times, once in the back of the laundry van.” she said laughing. “She has Alzheimer’s and really has no clue where she is. Can I help you find someone?”

“Yes, you must be Mrs Robinson, we spoke on the phone, I’m Angie.”

“Oh hello, nice to meet you. You are here to see Michael. You are his first visitor in four years. His son used to visit, but I haven’t seen him in a couple of years.”

“My brother died eighteen months ago.” Angie replied as she remembered holding the pillow over her brother’s face until he stopped struggling.

“Oh dear, how sad. Well you are the first family member to visit him in a long time.”

And I may be the last, Angie thought silently.

“Come with me, he is sitting in a wheelchair out in the garden.”

“Does he know I’m coming?” Angie asked.

“Yes he does.” The matron answered, looking away, unable to meet Angie’s eyes. Michael wasn’t a pleasant man and had not wanted his daughter to visit.

They walked out into the garden. A frail old man sat in a wheelchair, his clothes hanging loosely on his wasted body.

24106305-man-wheelchair

“Is he in good health?” Angie asked.

“No, his heart is failing. He is too old for surgery. He could live another five years, or he could die next week.” The matron answered softly.

Or he may die this afternoon. Angie thought to herself.

 

Dead of July (Small)