No One's Been the Wiser

I’ve never left a trail behind me.


There’s no notes, no writing on the wall, no physical signs of affliction. At least, nothing unusual.

I know how to get under somebody’s skin.

I know how to find what makes a person tick.

I know how to mess with the ticking.

An odd thing, the human mind. The most complex machine in the universe just… falls apart, if one can mess it up just right.

It’s a delicate process. Most usually just go to pieces & do my job for me. Some are tougher than others.

That’s where force comes in.

I have my methods. It’s usually my trusty switchblade.

I’ll have a toughened soul so helpless, so out of it, he’ll fall to his knees & beg for salvation.

Kill me now! he’ll shriek pitifully, breath coming in shallow, pathetic sobs.

Out comes the switchblade. A few small scrapes on the back of the hand, or the shoulder, or on the heel. Whatever’s handy.

I pull out a vial, & pour some of its contents onto the pearling areas.

He’s usually down within 48 hours.

No one’s been the wiser.

The End

11 comments about this story Feed