A collection of short stories written for contests, challenges or a form of therapy. Written from the mind of a wandering soul with a ticking clock and a cup of coffee.
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★ Featured on @MicroBytes Anthologies & Collections
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cover by -wanderes
The private funeral has just ended, and I look down at the newly made grave. With a sigh, I say, "This has gone too far. I'm sick and tired of burying my friends."
The man next to me laughs, the sound cutting through the sombre atmosphere, gaining a few hostile glares from Sahara's family members.
"You're in too deep now buddy," He leans closer, the clean smell of his aftershave invading my senses. "Unless you want to join your friends."
My arms wrap around my chest in a feeble attempt to control my fear. Whether the fear stems from living or dying...I honestly don't know anymore.
I swallow the lump in my throat and focus on Sahara's younger brother as he places a bouquet of periwinkles against her tombstone. The irony of her favourite flowers being the cause of her death stings my eyes, and a grimace takes over my face as the onslaught of guilt engulfs me.
At first the kills felt surreal - like scenes in a horror movie where I was both the hero and villain. The first few orders were of people who I considered acquaintances that just crossed the border to friendship, so getting rid of them stung briefly like an ant bite.
But Sahara was different. Our friendship blossomed from our years in university as science outcasts with a passion for pursuing the impossible. Although she excelled in her field, her stubborness eventually led to her name appearing on my list.
No matter how many times I told her to stop looking for the cure for cancer, or even attempt to direct her feverent passion to finding a cure to a disease that didn't rack up millions for the government - she wouldn't listen.
And she almost made it. The cure was within her grasp, quite literally, as her favourite flower littered every living space she owns - her office, her home, and even my home. She was ready to release the cure for cancer based on her research from periwinkles.
It was only a matter of time before The Silver Bullet would hunt her down. I kept telling myself that I was doing her a favour by negotiating her death to make it as painless as possible.
But in hindsight...what the hell was I thinking? Planning her painless death? Drowning in the adrenaline caused by the money and power that followed death blinded the humanity in my shell of a body.
"I liked you better when you didn't care." His voice cuts through the haze of regret I was suffocating in and I blink, suddenly becoming aware of the waterfall cascading down my cheeks.
I catch the teardrops that fall from my chin in the palm of my hand. I didn't even realise I was crying this much.
"I guess I'm not a complete psychopath." My voice sounds foreign to my ears and I shudder at the fact that I'm stuck in this vicious cycle where all endings consist of death.
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My entry to: Aim To Engage II, Day #12 - A Grave Day
Word Count: 497 words
Inspired by the conspiracy theories surrounding why the cure for cancer still doesn't exist in our modern world.
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