September 24th, 2013 by Theresa

The raucous crowd refused allaying. Demands of blood rose to screams for Jesse’s head as punishment for the crime. Six shots in the air from the judges’ gun got the crowd’s attention.

Jesse stared at his black clad executioner.

“Ya’ll know how this gon’ go, son?” drawled the old man as he holstered his weapon and glared at the crowd. Jesse glanced around and shrugged. Pinched and hungry faces stared back. With no money and no food, a grisly death rated high as entertainment.

“Yeah,” Jesse said weakly. “Stole water. Means the death penalty.”

The executioner mounted his horse and waved to the crowd. They roared back. The judge took out his gun again.

Silence.

“One question,” Jesse said. “Do I get a head start?”

Laughter filled the air. The executioner shrugged and nodded.

The judge walked over and took off Jesse’s chains. “I’m sorry, son,” he said.

“Don’t be,” Jesse said. “I got him right where I want him.”

Confused, the judge stumbled back. Jesse turned to the city gate. He took a deep breath then sprinted for the wilderness.

Hoof beats drew closer.

Jesse ran harder. He stopped dead at a scrub of brush. Turning back, he smiled as a sniper’s shot picked the executioner out of the saddle.

“How much this one worth?” asked his partner, Grant, from the brush.

“Two mil. Dead or alive.”

“Let’s go home,” Grant said. “We can finally retire.”

“And do what?” Jesse asked.

Grant shrugged.

“Let’s go home,” Jesse laughed.

As seen on Siobhan Muir’s Thursday Threads ~ WINNER!

August 31st, 2013 by Theresa

“Don’t struggle,” he whispered . “You’ll only make it worse.”  I felt something pointy stick in my back.

After five years on the run,  he’d finally caught me.  I shivered as he led me to his car.  As we neared the vehicle my stomach dropped. I wasn’t the first he’d caught tonight. Three other women looked up forlornly from the backseat, all bound and gagged.

“When are you ladies gonna learn?”  His gloating made my teeth itch. “I am smarter, faster and quieter then you will ever be.”

“Is that right?” I asked.  I hated him more that I was afraid. “Then we’re a perfect match.”

After all the training, counselling, and courses,  it was now or never.  Risking the knife, I spun around.

Wrist grab.

Knife drop.

Push body into car door.

Kidney punch.

Knee kick.

Damn it! He’s getting up!

He charged me and pushed me to the ground.   He wasn’t paying attention. I had the knife now.

I said nothing as I jammed the blade into his neck. Turning away from the spurting blood. I pushed his body off mine.  Digging for my phone I dialled 911.

“My name is Julie. I’ve been attacked.“

It was over.

As seen on Flash Fiction Friday with Sandra Bunino

200 words, Crime, Facebook, Flash Fiction, writing

May 10th, 2013 by Theresa

Suzanne forced herself to take in her new client.  It was the way he eyed her .  She was a prime rib dinner; he, a starving man.  Suzanne shuddered as he licked his lips.  She wasn’t sure if was pleasure or revulsion.

“Daniel Baker,” she began.  “As your attorney I will defend you to the best of my ability.  However, you’ve got to tell me if you’re truly guilty this time.”

“Ms. Delta, may I call you Suzanne?  Would you like to have breakfast with me?”

“It’s four in the afternoon.”

“So? I’m sure we can occupy ourselves until sunrise.”

“Mr. Baker, please,” Suzanne hissed.  “I’m serious.”

“So am I.”  Suzanne’s eyes looked to his.  He licked his lips again and leaned forward.  He reached out a hand, cuffs jingling, to trace a finger along her arm.  “I make a great omelette.”

Suzanne moved her hand away a few seconds too late.  He knew that she fell for his charm.  “Fine,” she said slowly.  “Then tell me the truth. Did you do it?  Have you either this time or ever in the past stolen money?”

“Not even once,” he replied with a sly smile.

“Can you prove it?”

“Yup.”

“Then why have you been arrested and charged thirteen times?”

“I’ve been trying to get you as my lawyer.  Know how hard it is to find your number?”

Suzanne snorted.  “Fine. You give me unshakeable proof?   I’ll not only get you off the hook but I’ll bring the orange juice.”

”Deal.”

As seen on Thursday Threads with Siobahn Muir

Crime, Flash Fiction, writing

April 25th, 2013 by Theresa

“Ready to make your statement?”

The prisoner sat up in his seat, chains jingling.  He wiped his split lip on his sleeve then spat a glob of bloody mucus to the floor.

“I’ll take that as a yes.  Prisoner 12432, please tell the court the events that contributed to the death of Renard Belgier and his associates?”

The prisoner leaned forward to the microphone clearing his throat.  “I was provoked.”

The courtroom became a hub of hushed conversations.  The Judge’s gavel banged a few times to regain control of the room. With a wave of the instrument, he prompted me to continue.

“Please, Prisoner 12432, explain? We all would like to know what happened.”

The prisoner’s dark  gaze shot through me. “I’ll tell what went down.  That damn vampire snatched me and my sister off the street. He drained Kelli before my eyes. His little pals? They chewed on the meat of my only kin to get every last drop of blood out. And as they let me watch, you know what they said? ‘Nothing personal, kid. We just needed a snack.’  The rage sang through my veins and I blacked out.”

“As you can see, Your Honor,” I continued turning back to the judge. “My client is a latent berserker. He’s no a threat to society – unprovoked, that is.”

The judge rolled his eyes. “Prisoner 12432,  now known as Ian Richmond,  we find you innocent of murder.  We reduce your sentence to time served. Case dismissed.”

Crime, Flash Fiction, paranormal, Urban Fantasy, writing