Blackout

My shot at Flash Fic

Time to think. I needed time to think; time to put my thoughts together and figure out what I was going to do. I needed time, but there was none to be had. I was pacing back and forth through the blood leaving more and more bloody footprints. I should have thought this through. I should have made a plan, but instead I acted on impulse. Now I had blood on my hands, on my clothes and all over my face. I was covered in it and so was the room I was standing in. My wife's body was sprawled across the table with her severed arm laying on the floor beside her. The dinner she had made was strewn about the walls and was mixed with blood and gore. My baby girl was still in her highchair, her neck slumped and her bib drenched in blood. The dog was cut from neck to tail and its intestines were spilling out on the floor in front of me. The butchered bodies of my loved ones laid out before me made my gorge rise and I thought for a moment I was going to lose what little was in my stomach.

I came home to a perfect scene. My wife had made dinner and it was on the table ready to be eaten. The baby was in her highchair waiting to be fed and the dog was curled up in front of the fireplace that was roaring to ward off the autumn chill. I hugged and kissed my wife. I kissed the baby and rubbed the dog behind the ears. Then everything went black.

When I came to I was standing in the middle of the room and everyone else in my family was dead. I was holding the carving knife that my mother-in-law had given to us as a wedding gift; an electric carving knife that was battery powered and it was still running with blood dripping from it.

I didn't know what to do now. I planned on killing my wife and making it look like an accident for the insurance money for months, but I never planned on hurting my baby girl or the f*****g dog. The plan involved an apartment hunt in a high rise building with balconies and her "accidently" falling to her death. It wasn't that I didn't love my wife, because I did, but our family needed the damn money. I was desperate. I had been thinking on it hard on my way home, but did not plan on acting out my plans until later in the month.

Now I was screwed. I was crying. My DNA was everywhere. I was holding the murder weapon. I couldn't remember anything. I am sure there were screams and wails, but I couldn't remember anything. What the f**k was I supposed to do? I turned off the knife and put it on the counter. I stripped down to my birthday suit and threw everything except my shoes in the fireplace. I went in the bedroom and put on clean clothes. I found the bleach under the sink in our master bath. I came back out to the carnage and grabbed the knife. I dropped it in the sink after putting the stopper in and poured bleach over it. I then stashed it under the sink. I put my shoes back on and waited for my clothes to burn up in the fire.

I then decided I was going to call the police. I decided to tell them I came home to this. My shoes were bloody, because I waded through the mess to find what was left of my family and try to find a way to save them. I went and held my wife. Blood soaked into my new clothes. I cried.

When I found enough composure and my clothes had completely burned up, I called the police and told them what I had walked in on. I told them my wife and daughter were dead. They informed me to stay where I was and they would be out as soon as they could.

Soon I heard sirens and I waited for the chaos to begin. I waited for the questions to be thrown my way. I waited for the accusations to be made. There was a knock at the door and a loud call of "Police, open up." I laid my wife back down, her body already cold, and went to open the door.

The police shoved me out of the way and rushed into the room. One of them took my statement and then moved on. I went out the door and down to my car. The cops would find me soon enough and find that I was responsible; there was no getting out of this. I put the key in the ignition and turned it just enough to get the radio to come on. Ben Harper came through the speakers as I reached under my seat and pulled out a lock box. I pulled a key off my keyring and opened the box.

I pulled out the gun, slid in the clip, placed the gun in my mouth and I saw black.

Reviews

[Laura Maidah]

Reads like genuine stream. If that's what you were going for, SUCCESS!

[daemok]

A nice piece of thought out murder. Neatly packed into a short story and given to us.
There were a few repetative words, but alot of writers do that. I tend to think too deeply into things so I'm nit-picky.

[That_Girl]

One of the best flash fics I've read lately. Well done. Simple but wildly entertaining. Nice to read something fresh.

[w]

Thank you. Needs some editing, but I am pretty happy with it.

[That_Girl]

Yes but that's easily done. :) you should be happy with it!