Friday, January 28, 2011

Victor & Dana

"I'm not as disturbed as you may think I am." 
Dana Matisse looked up from her notes, meeting the icy blue eyes of Victor LeDrew. He was leaning back in his seat, one elegant hand holding the saucer, the other lifting the teacup to his lips. Dana arched an eyebrow,
"How so, Mr. LeDrew?"
She waited as he took another sip before setting the china down. He reached for one of the delectable pastries, taking an almost dainty bite. He chewed and swallowed in an almost thoughtful manner before he answered,
"It had to be done. Who else could have done it?" 
Dana shook her head,
"Mr. LeDrew, we've been over this so many times. You confessed to it."
"Oh, I know, my dear-"
"And yet," Dana interrupted, "You want me to believe that you felt it was your God-given duty to commit murder?"
"That's right, love," he said softly, "let it all out."
"Enough!" She slapped the table with her hand, "It is too late for this conversation. You've been tried, convicted and sentenced to death-"
"Which, I might add," he glanced at the clock behind her, "is in another twenty hours."
"Yes, I know." Dana whispered, suddenly weary. Her throat tightened, clogged by the threat of tears.
Victor took another sip of his tea.

Dana wanted to leave. She made the trip out here for the last visit but all he wanted to do was talk about that fateful day. He wanted to celebrate what he did but she couldn't. She just couldn't.

She thought about how he smiled during the trial, how happy he was to go on the stand and basically run the show. He didn't deny anything, but seemed rather keen to boast about it. It was time, he'd said, to take a stand against unscrupulous employers.

Dana was the junior reporter, assigned her first story. 
She came to court everyday, furiously scribbling her notes so that it would be just right for the paper. This was her chance to show what she could do. She'd been excited.

Then one day, his lawyer threw up his hands and asked to be excused from the case, citing that he couldn't defend his client properly as Mr. LeDrew refused to cooperate. The judge would've postponed it until another lawyer could be found but Victor LeDrew was having none of it.

Victor cheerfully advised the judge that the trial can continue as he would have no problem representing himself. The judge warned him that it may not be in his favor but Victor was adamant. It was after that when Victor started to take notice of her.

When he was on the stand or posturing in front of the jurors, he would look out into the galley, in search of her. Once their eyes met, he would then continue to regale the courtroom with his attention to detail. Dana had been repulsed yet fascinated by him.

According to Victor, it had been very simple:
He had gone into his job the night before and severed all lines of communication. He then waited until his boss (who should not have been in that position to begin with) and the boss' rumored girlfriend (who was an entirely overpaid waste of skin) to show up at seven in the morning. Once they were in the office, he quietly blocked the only means of escape. He then calmly walked into the boss' private office and repeatedly stabbed the man in the jugular with a letter opener. The gurgling sounds from the boss brought in his fat girlfriend who met the same grisly fate. To Victor's utter amazement, she'd squealed just like a pig during their struggle.
It all had to do with the payroll.
Victor was on vacation at the time and they had the absolute cheek to call him about something that could have waited until he returned to work that following Monday.

That had been the tipping point for him.
After he killed them both, he pulled out his cell and called the police... 

Victor had been analyzed by the doctors, deemed competent and the trial continued. The prosecutor had enjoyed himself immensely and even bragged down at the local watering hole that this case was the easiest bit of cheese he'd ever made. 

The trial lasted only another week or so and during Victor's closing statement, he more or less demanded to be put to death since he did not think he would fare well at the state penitentiary. He'd heard some rather dreadful things about its hygienic status. Besides, he'd reasoned, it was much cheaper to just zap him one good time than to pay for his upkeep. He'd done the math and the amount was just staggering.
The judge simply rolled his eyes and gave Victor LeDrew exactly what he wanted...

Dana gathered up her notes, her heart heavy,

"I think it's time for me to go." 
"You have at least another fifteen minutes," Victor said softly, "are you going to deny me that?"
Dana tried not to cry. He would be dead by the end of the day tomorrow. Surely she can wait until visiting hour was over? She leaned back in her seat,
"Yes, I'm sorry. Of course, I can stay. I'm just-"
"Oh good," he interrupted, clapping his hands, "and what about tomorrow? Will you be able to attend?" He gave her a hopeful, expectant look.
Dana didn't want to witness his execution. She didn't want to see him convulsing, to see the black hood billow where his eyes exploded, his veins distended with the fury of the electrical current. She didn't want to see any of that. 
Dana shook her head, tears blinding her now,
"I can't...Mr. LeDrew, please-"
"Oh, but you must, my dear." Victor smiled as he reached for the teapot. He kept his eyes on hers as he poured, "And please wear that lovely green tweed suit. It's my favourite."

© copyright 2011 by Ren Thompson  January 28, 2011

This is just a work of fiction, I do not know how the exact procedures of the judicial system works, so please forgive me for bending it to suit my story.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Gentle Leslie The End - 3WW

They sat quietly as the butterfly took flight again, fluttering away into the distance. Gentle Whisper missed its brief light touch. He glanced over at Leslie, careful to keep his voice soft,
“So what happens now, dearest?”
Leslie Orange drew in a deep breath,
“By rights, I should kill you.”
He knew that she would say that. He swallowed the sudden taste of fear. Gentle knew, then, that he would not be given another chance. He took in her carefully blank face, the clenched fists. He sighed,
“Doing so will ultimately lead your descent into madness.”
She met his eyes and nodded,
“Yes, I know.”
He had to ask,
“Is this what you want?”
She didn’t answer him. 
Gentle didn't need one. 
He didn’t want to fade. He didn’t want to escape. Gentle only wanted to touch her one last time, to feel her warmth before she turned on him. 
He reached for her and it proved fatal. Gentle was calm as her teeth and claws tore into him. It was so surreal that he thought, at first, that he was mistaken by how quickly his death was coming.
His eyes, filled with regretful love, locked with her empty ones as she slowly and methodically devoured him.
Then he was gone. 

© copyright January 19, 2011 by Ren Thompson
3 Word Wednesday 

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Gentle Leslie pt. 2 - 3WW

"Stop it!" Leslie Orange spun free from his touch, putting space between them, "I do not want to talk about this anymore."

Gentle Whisper let her walk away from him, the corners of his eyes suspiciously moist. He was not a crier, not ever. The pain that he felt was well-deserved, he knew that now. Gentle wiped away the dampness, deciding that he would give her the time and space she demanded.
But not for long.

He waited approximately three and a half minutes.

Gentle was hesitant to approach her at first. Her back was ramrod straight as she faced the bubbling spring. She was perched on the same rock as when he first saw her, so very long ago.

He wondered if it was too late to make amends.

Gentle let himself fade slowly, his signature mist gliding across the warm grass to pool next to the rock. She didn't see him at first, too intent on the pretty yellow butterfly that rested in her cupped hands. His faint eyes admired her expression of wonder for a moment before he solidified with a quiet snap. Her startled yelp unsettled the butterfly causing it to take flight.
Together, they watched it dance upward with its erratic movements, the flash of yellow winking to its own symphony. It slowly circled in the air before coming to land on his knee, its energy spent.

Gentle caressed it with a finger as his eyes lifted to meet his beloved, his voice soft, "Do you see how it trusts me? How utterly harmless I am?"

© copyright January 12, 2011 by Ren Thompson

3 Word Wednesday

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Gentle Leslie - 3 Word Wednesday

“If I could take back what I said, I would do it.”  Gentle Whisper swung around to face Leslie Orange, “I know it hurt you and I am sorrier that I can say.”

Leslie picked at a hangnail, wondering what to say to that. She was tired of the same old bullshit, the same old excuses but Gentle seemed sincere. Yes, this time, the nagging voice said from the farthest corner of her mind, but you know that he will slip up. It’s his nature.

She was afraid to trust him again. His apology seemed plausible, with his beautiful amethyst eyes tugging at her heart strings but she wanted to remain firm.

Leslie stepped closer to him, her eyes searching his,
“You are like an incomplete actor, never varying far from what is comfortable. How can I trust you?”

Gentle smoothed a lock of her hair back, his fingers sliding down to the base of her neck. He applied pressure, smiling quietly as her eyelashes fluttered,
“You have been more willingly to trust me in the past.”

His quiet reminder caused her eyes widen. She bowed her head, shrugging to move her neck out of the reach of his persuasive fingers,
“That was before you decided to taint me with your fearsome lies.”

© copyright January 9, 2011 by Ren Thompson

Thursday, January 6, 2011

So Far....

....and not so good.

I've had a million and one ideas on how to complete this goal of mine and I am drying up like the Sahara desert.

This one short story a month thing sounded like a great idea but now? Holy Hannah!

And I thought Nano was hard.....

I wonder if a collection of flash fiction can count as one short know, just to get me through this month? Hmmmmmm