Death at the Cliff

She stood motionless on the edge of a sandstone bolder that jutted out from the beach. Her slender figure silhouetted against the setting sun. She looked out towards the glistening sea that enticed her; all it would take was one step. She remembered those days where she had stood there before, wrapped in her lover’s arms, his breath upon her neck but now she was alone. Her sleek black heels were strewn on the pebbles behind her, discarded in hast and her pale feet had braved the jagged surface of the rock. Each toe was curled round the edge and a drop of scarlet ran across one of them spiralling into the water below. The wisps of vibrant red weaved through the sea. Yet she barley registered it. Her cold hand slid its way under the olive tinted strap that hung off her shoulder and slid it back to its rightful place. She lingered there for a mere moment before her hand slid lifeless to her side. This moment would be her last.

The sun had set yet the moon was bright and shone silver beams in her direction. There was silence around her engulfing her, smothering. She knew she was no longer alone. She knew they would come.

They didn’t rush or intrude but simply strolled towards her. There was no rush; they all knew she wouldn’t run. She had waited for them ... for the end of it all. A tall slim man stepped forwards leaving the five other men in a staggered formation behind him but as he approached her he seemed to diminish in size become nothing more than a small school boy, wide eyed and meek. She tilted her head to acknowledge his presence. He noticed the curve of her body that was hugged in the layers of silk, her dark hair fastened to one side glowed and a few ringlets that had escaped their restraints caressed her face. He couldn’t see her face and the piercing eyes that held such sorrow but he was conscious of them all the same. His hand quivered for a second as he pulled the slender metal of his revolver out of the jacket pocket.

The shot was silenced and the bullet spun through the air. It pierced her back slicing through her flesh with ease and embedding itself into her heart. Her body jerked as it entered and the last beat of her heart was plucked from existence. Then her body lurched forward with the final push that she had longed for and she cascaded into the depths of the water below that had waited hungrily to engulf her. The waves lapped at her body, dragging her down into the depths of its realm.

He turned to walk away with no satisfaction. The deed was done yet he felt empty. Why was she different to the others, she held herself with elegance and faced death with dignity. Yet he barely knew her she was just another job he was instructed to do. He normally felt nothing but she was different for one reason.

 

They ... admired her.

Author's Note

I was just trying something different.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

A interesting story. This would be a good introduction for a long story. Sharing the who, what, where, why and how of the situation. I like the set-up and the internal thoughts. Thank you for sharing the excellent tale.
Coyote

[Delmar Cooper]

Very descriptive and evocative. I enjoyed the piece, but if you simply correct some spelling it would have a greater effect on the reader.

As much as I like the last line the reader sees that in the previous paragraph the murderer refers to himself as "he" five times, but the final line uses the pronoun "they." I found that confusing. I like the separation of the last line by extra spacing and making it a one line paragraph, good decision.

Thanks
Cooper

[ANM]

It worked... Well done short , sweet and impactive.