I’m sorry to tell you that I’ll be discontinuing serial stories here for awhile, for various reasons. But I’ll be posting a weekly excerpt, or occasionally a bit of short fiction for your enjoyment.
This week’s excerpt is from the beginning of Angel Eyes, my first thriller/horror story:
He watched from behind a tall Cyprus hedge as
the lights came on in the small house across the street. Darkness had
fallen hours ago, and Megan Hunter had finally come home. Her
silhouette moved gracefully across the sheer curtains as she settled
in and he admired the symmetry of her form. It was one of the things
that had drawn his attention when he first saw her at the grocery
store. She’d stepped out from behind the counter to help an elderly
customer and he’d been stunned by the way her shoulders, breasts,
hips and thighs all moved in a wonderfully artistic flowing curve.
She’d looked up as he passed, a pleasant smile on her lips, but it
was her eyes that had sealed her fate. They were beautiful, a toasted
honey hue with just a hint of dark cinnamon flecks, like nothing he’d
ever seen. He could just imagine what it would be like to look into
those eyes every day, to have them looking back at him. Perfection.
A warm breeze gusted, swirling red and gold
leaves in playful patterns on the yard. He watched them float, his
thumb absently rubbing the smooth leather case in one hand. Megan was
in the kitchen now, sitting at a small table and tilting her head
back for a long drink of water. He imagined caressing her long,
slender throat, comparing it briefly in his mind to Angel’s. Lovely
as it was, it didn’t quite measure up, but it didn’t matter. That
wasn’t what he was here for.
She yawned and stretched. He checked his watch
– it wouldn’t be long now. She’d been thirsty, which worked in her
favor. It was easier when they got a full dose. She rose, one hand to
her mouth as she covered another yawn, and walked to the living room,
stumbling past a chair and finally dropping out of his view.
He slipped on a thin pair of leather gloves and
waited another two minutes, then strode casually across the street
and up her front steps. He inserted a key from his pocket into the
lock and turned, the door swinging open easily. Closing and locking
it behind him, he set his case down on the hall table beside her
purse, snapped on a pair of latex gloves and went through the main
rooms, closing all of the shades. He took his leather case into the
master bathroom and laid out his tools on a clean towel, then carried
Megan into the bathroom. He removed her clothes, folding them neatly
and placing them on the laundry hamper next to the door before laying
her in the bathtub. No reason to leave a mess behind for whoever
She stirred, shivering as her skin puckered
against the cool porcelain. Sitting on the edge of the tub, he tied a
length of rubber tubing around her arm and waited for the veins to
rise before slipping a needle into the largest. When the syringe was
empty, he removed the tubing and placed it with the needle back in
his case. He’d have to work fast now.
Quickly he changed his gloves and then opened
one eyelid, and inserted a speculum to hold it away from the eyeball.
He used a small set of forceps to pull the eye away from the socket,
careful not to squeeze hard. Megan shuddered beneath him, and he
frowned, hoping he’d given her enough to keep her still. Too late
now, in any case. With his favorite scalpel, he quickly severed the
optic nerve and placed the eyeball in a small jar of solution, then
repeated the procedure on the other eye. He screwed the lid on the
jar and wrapped his tools in plastic before returning them to the
case. He’d clean them later, when he could do a good job. Megan
whimpered, and he wasn’t sure what to do. Normally they were dead by
now – why was she still alive? For a moment he considered using the
scalpel, but he hated to make more of a mess than necessary. Checking
his watch again, he gathered up his things. He had morphine in the
car. If he hurried, he could make it back with another dose before
she became fully conscious.
He let himself out the back door and walked
down the alley to the side street where he’d left his old Buick.
Placing his kit in the spare tire compartment of the trunk, he filled
the syringe and replaced the cap, then locked the car and jogged back
down the alley with a grin. After he took care of Megan, he could
spend the rest of the evening with Angel.
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