On Account of a StrangerA Story by Daniel AtkinsonA black-hearted man is shown before he kills.
Dirt showers from his earth-drunk boots as he steps onto the welcome mat of a sleeping ranch house. He stands, staring at the wooden front door. The stars and the moon sing their celestial chorus.
The night bleeds. He's here on account of a stranger. Meditated whispers in the moonlight told him a faceless man had taken his name in vain. This man will not live to see tomorrow. He sighs like a pneumonia-stricken Beelzebub. The summer air rolls out in a fog from his frozen lungs and sanitizes the darkness. In a tree above him, a crow moans the ballad of a would-be lover. More than one heart will be broken tonight. He raises his hand of rotted granite and grasps the door handle. It's locked (and dead-bolted), but with his slightest touch the tumblers rearrange themselves. The door swings open. A mud-caked boot swings itself over the door frame. The termites burrowed inside sizzle and rot. His boot heel hits the floor without a sound. A blackly jubilant smile snakes its way across his moon-scarred face. In a room down the hall, the family dog dies in its sleep. He melts past the children's room, past the bathroom, and stops in front of the stranger's bedroom door. His hand emerges from a black trench coat sleeve, the nail on the index finger grown a foot long. Sharpened. Blood-stained. He listens to the syncopation of the stranger's sleeping heart. Outside, the crow drops dead from its branch. The night will never stop bleeding. © 2011 Daniel AtkinsonAuthor's Note
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8 Reviews Added on April 30, 2011 Last Updated on May 4, 2011 Tags: kill, murder, dark, scary, supernatural Author
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