* * *
Sid felt the heat from the sun against his forehead. The sensation on his face was not nearly as hot as the bruise on the back of his head, which now made contact with long blades of grass as he was drug along the ground. His head was moist, perhaps with blood, or maybe from the morning dew that had yet to evaporate from the ground. His legs, now being yanked on to pull him to an unknown destination, were still bound. His arms were also still bound and the handcuffs snagged on twigs and weeds along the way.
Sid strained to speak. “Where…where are we?”
He looked up to see the woman holding his legs. She turned around and he saw her wicked smile.
“Going to the end of the line…unless you tell me where she is.”
Sid figured that the woman had lied about the button that would alert her partner to kill his mother. No button could be found on her. Maybe no partner existed either. Perhaps she also was lying about having a sister who was in danger. Perhaps she killed for pleasure. Sid could understand the allure. He had been in that vicious circle of blood, torture, and murder. But how could he go from being the hunter to the hunted? How could he be a victim when he was supposed to be on the other side of the equation?
He knew that he had lied earlier when he said her sister was alive. Even if he had happened to take her sister, he knew with certainty that she was not alive. He did not remember a blonde. He only knew that by his methods, none of his victims were alive. They had all perished. He made no exceptions.
Still, he felt he could get out of this mess if he played his cards right.
“I will show you,” he said.
If she didn’t have a sister, she would know he was lying. Maybe she was egging him on in some sick game. Maybe not.
She pulled him further, not saying a word.
Sid’s voice boomed. “I will show you.”
The woman stopped and turned around again. “I’m sure you would want that. You’d want to show me. I’m not an idiot. You will tell me and I’ll go search for myself.”
“It’s hard to explain where she’s hidden,” Sid said.
She pulled him and he felt the back of his head hit a rock. He turned his head slightly to the left and saw large stones in various shapes. When his vision focused, he could see that they weren’t ordinary rocks. They were tombstones.
“What the—”
“Almost at the end of the line, Sid. Tell me where she is,” the woman said, still pulling him behind her.
“She’s—”
His head hit another rock. He groaned instead of saying another word. Then she pulled his legs to the left and lined him up against something that was black and a few feet longer than his body. He looked to his right and saw what looked like a shadow, though nothing was around him that would produce such a shadow. He didn’t realize what it was until she rolled his body and he tumbled into the darkness.
On his back, he looked up and saw her silhouette at the edge of the open grave. She laughed as she looked down at him. He could see her holding a spade and came to realize what her intentions were.
“You were a lot of fun, Sid. Don’t worry. Your mother is already dead, like you will soon be.”
Sid screamed in horror.
The woman laughed at his agony.
Sid didn’t care if he had killed her sister or not. He hoped that he had.
When the first shovelful of dirt hit his face, he stopped wondering if his mother was okay. He stopped going back and forth with himself about the fact that the woman could easily be lying, just as easily as he had lied about the supposed sister being alive.
He heard the woman’s muffled voice. “Now I can cross the first one off of my list.”
Another shovelful landed on him and filled his nostrils and his mouth. He spit some of the soil out before more landed on him. He wiggled to move the dirt from him as it covered his body, but she piled it on him faster than he could move it. What might have been fifteen minutes felt like hours to Sid. Each speck of soil that landed on him brought him one step closer to his ultimate demise.
Millions and millions of specks covered him until they extinguished the existence that had ended so many others. They covered him until there was nothing but a suffocating blackness around him. Under their weight his killing spree was over. Six feet above him was the woman who was still working feverishly. Her killing spree had just begun.
# # #
About the author:
Maxwell Cunningham is a pen name used by Ryan M. Murphy. Ryan is a lifelong Pennsylvanian who has been obsessed with The Beatles for as long as he can remember. When he is not running his music store or playing shows with his band, he writes thriller, horror, and science fiction stories.
For more info on Ryan, please go to www.ryanmmurphy.com.
For more Maxwell Cunningham releases, check out www.maxwellcunningham.com
Author Note:
Thank you for reading One-Eighty! I hope you had as much fun reading it as I had writing it. For information on current and upcoming releases, please visit my web site! ~MC
Check out these other releases by Maxwell Cunningham:
Without A Trial
When the police commissioner of Edinboro suddenly retires after a raid gone wrong, hardball cop, Todd Williams, finds himself in the middle of a dangerous game that threatens the safety of those he loves the most. His morals are put to the test when he must act as executioner to suspected criminals who are condemned to death without a trial.
Without A Trial 2
The stakes are raised in this sequel to Without A Trial when Todd Williams must rescue his wife and the entire city of Edinboro from a new police commissioner who has sinister plans of his own.
The Morality Game (A Short Story)
Travis Lynn discovers a strange letter on his front porch that makes him question his morality. His mission is to kill a teenage boy who lives across the street. The boy's innocent looks are deceiving: he will grow up to be the most sinister dictator in the history of the world, killing over eighty million people. Upon completing the mission, Travis will receive a one million dollar reward. The catch: he has only 24 hours.
One-Eighty (A Short Story) Page 2