Black Ice

Evil is born.

Black Ice

By:

Richard D. McGehee

“Don’t I deserve happiness?” I spat his question back in his face as I stood there listening to the dripping of the old faucet of our unfinished basement. He just stood there staring at me blankly so I continued.

“That wasn’t an easy question for me to answer and it has taken me a month of thinking about it before I could come to this moment.”

“And what is your answer?” he says as he taps his foot on the cold concrete floor; he rolls his eyes at me in impatiens.

“Come closer and I will give you your answer.” I say to him as I paste a big welcome-looking smile on my face. My fists tighten behind my back as he gets closer.

‘Not yet.’ I tell myself and regain focus and control of my emotions.

“Well!” he says, irritation oozing from his voice. I look him in the eyes and smile at him again. Something in my smile unsettles him and he hesitates upon his approach; I just continue to smile at his lying blue eyes.

“Closer.” I say, ice lacing my voice.

“This is close enough.” He says, stopping less than a foot from me.

“As you wish,” I tell him as my smile and false jovial demeanor continue.

“Are you ready for my answer?” I ask as I watch his eyes look towards the squeaking sound on the staircase. I can feel his unease with me and it starts to fuel my hatred even further.

“I will make it as quick as I can. I know your boyfriend is waiting for you upstairs.” His eyes snap back to mine; his face an emotionless mask. He knows how much he hurt me and still he shows no remorse. I move an inch or two closer to him and begin my mentally practiced speech.

“After what you put me through for the last year, all the cheating behind my back, all the lies, all the false hope, and all the head games you played with me…. After all that I have chosen to set myself free of you for all time.” His emotionless façade crumbles a bit and a look of shock and surprise covers his face for the briefest of moments. I smile at the response, and then continue speaking.

“As for your question…do you deserve happiness? “ I look at his face and relish in his distressed and pained look. I continue after a moment to gather my thoughts and suppress my rage and hate for a moment longer.

“Do I deserve happiness?” I ask him. He swallows hard and says nothing. His eyes seem to have found one of the many cracks in the cement floor worth extreme examination because he never looks up; he seems frozen. Again my rage bubbles toward the surface. I continue with measured control.

“I certainly didn’t deserve all the s**t you put me through and all the s**t you continue to put me through with your new boyfriend lurking at the top of the stairs.” Again he looks up toward the staircase and then at me a scowl on his face. I stop his forthcoming rebuke by continuing to speak before he can form his words.

“Cutting to the chase, I am gonna say no! No, you do not deserve happiness!” I put all my hatred, rage, and furry into my last words.

My hands fly from behind my back. Each seven inch blade slides into his flesh easier than hot butter. I rip them out and plunge them in again and again each time fueling my rage and hatred; every blow a different painful memory.

Each hunting knife, (one in each hand) continues to fly at his flesh. He stands there absorbing each blow of furry coated steel; I can hear him gurgling and sputtering on his own blood. His knees begin to buckle and his now limp body hits the cold cement floor.

An evil comfort takes over my emotions and an instant calm comes over me. I bend over his slowly draining corpse and say. “You have given me my happiness finally.”

I stand and drop my knives onto his motionless body. Calmly, and with great detail, clean my hands in the basement sink. I shake my head at the continued drip of the faucet after I shut off the water and dry my hands on a nearby towel.

I replace the towel and turn to give his body one last look. I smile content for the first time in ages and with black ice flowing through my veins I grab the hunting knives form his lumpy cold corpse and walk up stairs; whistling as I ascend one squeaking step at a time.

Author's Note

Please give any and all feedback. Thanks!

Reviews

[Stephanie K.]

I'm not sure how to give feedback on this piece because it is dependent on what it is. I feel like there is a piece of knowledge from the story I am missing and I'm not sure if that's because there is more to this writing or not. If there is more to the story, please let me know because I would love to read it. If not, I felt there was no suspense in the story, all of the action came and went too quickly and it was slightly confusing. Either way this piece was intended, it had great use of dialogue and personality, minor grammatical errors but that's all. Thanks for sharing. :)

[Richard D. McGehee]

Thank you for your feedback. It is a part of a larger piece. I'm almost done with it and hope to have it up soon. Thanks again.

[David Jae]

This has a lot of potential, being dark and grim, with emotion behind it.
This story is something that people can relate to.
However, I have to agree with Stephanie K. It feels like some major backstory is missing and there is a lack of suspense. Also, your dialogue is stilted in places, and feels unnatural.

But, you've already achieved the hardest part of writing and everything else is just a matter of practice.

Ganbare