September 8th weekly prompt – The Prisoner

Brought to you by the prompt of the week: Write a horror story. https://neverendingstorydepository.wordpress.com/2013/09/08/prompt-for-the-week-of-september-8-2013-friday-the-13th-fan-fiction/

Warning: Graphic violence

“Betty-Sue’s perky, white, round ass.” The prisoner, off in his own little world, gave a corner of the interrogation room ceiling a rotting, snaggle-toothed smile as he exhaled the first puff of his last cigarette.

The priest stared at the dingy green walls and rolled his eyes at the irony of the privileged condemned, the only people in the country allowed to smoke inside a public area.

“That’s what I like to think about – keepin’ my mind off my own untimely end.”

The priest dragged his concentration back to his work; to listen to the drawn out southern drawl of a man about to meet his maker by state-sanctioned execution.

“I could tell you what I’d like to do with that ass, but I don’t guess you’d beg my pardon. But hell, I can tell you I wouldn’t hurt Betty-Sue for nothin’, nosiree.”

“You may take comfort in the fact that you won’t hurt anyone ever again, my son,” the priest said, though he wasn’t so sure. A roomful of the man’s crying relatives had brought doubt to his mind.

“I pro’lly never shoulda killed them twins. But the way I sees it, I didn’ have much of a choice.” The prisoner was looking at him now. The priest let him go on, even though he’d heard the story many times.

“But they had it comin’. Yessiree, bob. One of ’em raped and murdered my sister. Jes’ one. But would they give each other up? Heh! But yous know how it all came about, don’ che?”

“I do,” the priest said with a single nod.

One of the twins had been arrested and gone to trial. The case was an ugly one. A teenaged girl had been abducted from her home and kept locked in a shack where her captor had done unspeakable things to her (all of which there was photo evidence, shown at the trial) before dumping her, piece by piece, in weighted bags in a local lake. The perpetrator had been an avid photographer, amongst other things. The one thing he had failed to do was take pictures of himself.

One eye witness was brought to the stand. He would have positively identified the man responsible, but for the fact that the accused had an identical twin. The case was dropped and the man was set free. That was when the prisoner decided to take matters into his own hands.

“I gets ahold a him. I had him pinned up agains’ a wall an’ the sniveling igit blames his brother.” The prisoner’s cigarette was half-way gone. He breathed in another lungful and puffed it out in delicate curly hoops and smiled at himself. “So I gets ahold a the other one. He blames his brother too. So,” he looked the priest directly in the eye, “I fucked ’em both up.

“Sorry there father, but yous can see, can’t che? She was my sister and those fuckers was gonna get away with it.

“Do you wanna know what I did to them?”

“It would be helpful to the authorities if you would disclose the location of the bodies.” This, the priest thought, was the underlying reason he had been sent in. This man was no more a Christian than at least one of the men he murdered was an innocent.

The prisoner squinted at him, raised his cigarette to his lips, and took a deep drag. “I can do that, sure.” Each word came out with its own individual puff of smoke. “But I gotta tell you, them pictures gave me some good ideas a how to punish them fuckers. Did you see what them…” He swiped at his eye with the back of his hand. “Did you see what they did to my little sister? She was still screamin’ an’ half her body parts was missin’.

“So you can be sure, them twins ain’t all in the same grave, nosiree. I dug them fuckers ten of em. Around the lake; all as deep as hell. And let me make it straight.” As the prisoner leaned on the table, the chains from his shackles clanked deafeningly against the edge of it, making the priest sit back. “Get this. One of them graves only needed to be a mite smaller than a six inch average, if you ketch my drift.”

The priest nodded and wondered for a fleeting moment if the sobbing relatives in the other room deserved to lose this man for what he had done.

He watched the prisoner sit back; the eyes of the condemned man drifted back to the corner of the ceiling as he took one last long pull on his cigarette. “But damn, that Betty-Sue has got one nice firm white ass. An’ I wouldn’t hurt her for the world, nosiree.”

About LindaGHill

There's a writer in here, clawing her way out.

9 comments on “September 8th weekly prompt – The Prisoner

  1. Reblogged this on Get on my plate! and commented:

    In honour of the upcoming Friday the 13th, a chilling short story, prompted on the Community Storyboard.

  2. I loved this, Linda. Horrible, and yet . . . I kinda admire the snaggle-toothed condemned! Great job.

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