And to continue with today’s post, here’s a revised version of a short story I wrote a while back. I changed the victim’s name and added a few details that, I think, make the piece read better. Hope you enjoy it!
Killing Your Best Friend’s Wife
Harry wasn’t the kind of close friend one lets down. His idea of a good time was playing chess with the boss’s daughter… with frosting in mind. His wife, Cheryl, on the other hand, was innocent as a fawn on green pasture.
But Harry wanted Victor’s help in killing her.
To Harry’s expectation, Victor agreed without hesitation- not because he disliked Cheryl. She’s the only person who knew Harry’s one deep, dark, secret that could ruin his life forever; truths exposing him to committing credit card fraud, hijacking cars, and business computer hacking. They all add up to that particular secret: participating in Cheryl’s best friend’s suicide attempt.
Don’t misunderstand, Victor was surprised. He thought Cheryl should have left Harry a long time ago, except, she always found something good in the guy. She had no clue as to the numerous times Victor had to… dispose of loose ends.
Harry got all of the materials ready for the big day. He had it all figured out, too. Victor was to pick Cheryl up from the airport, since she travelled to visit her mother out of state, and he was to deliver a demise to which she would not return.
When the big day arrived, Victor deliberately took his time to get there. He tried to picture Cheryl’s face when she figured out they would stop at a deserted gasoline station in the middle of nowhere instead of heading to Palmdale.
“Hi, Victor,” she put her bags down and gave Victor a quick hug; little did she know it was a futile attempt to save herself from her fate.
“Hi, Cheryl,” Victor reached down to grab hold of her bags and place them in the trunk of the car. “Sorry your husband couldn’t make it.”
“Don’t worry about it.” She patted his hand, “I’m sure he’s far too busy at the office.”
Throughout the trip, Cheryl did most of the talking, probably due to nervousness. She also had noticed Victor take a wrong turn. At first, she thought he would circle back to the proper road, but he hadn’t. She thought of Harry as she watched the wind blow on the road. Does he think she would snitch about Patty?
Victor pulled into the deserted gas station.
“There seems to be no one around…”
He locked her side of the door and placed black gloves on.
“What are those for?”
Victor cracked his knuckles.
Tears streamed down Cheryl’s eyes as she clutched her mother’s necklace. Victor opened the dashboard and pulled out a small black bag. He took some drops and wet a handkerchief.
Cheryl’s eyes bulged. She turned to open the door.
Victor smothered her face with the handkerchief.
Cheryl struggled to break free, but Victor was too strong for her petite body. She elbowed Victor on his ribs and shrieked. She pounded the window and scratched the door handle. Then, Victor suppressed her until she was motionless.
Victor caressed her face and brushed her fine brown hair.
He drove further towards a cliff. He stepped out of the car and lit a cigarette. He looked at the cliff to the ocean below. He threw the match on the ground. He returned to the car, put it in neutral, and pushed it over the cliff. The car hit the side of the rock and blew up before splashing into the water.
“Won’t Harry be proud?”
For the original Writer’s Digest Prompt and post, see the following link (scroll down to Chilo):