Member-only story
Their Own Fault
A short story
A thin smile cracked his face as the slight figure came into view. Hood pulled down low, shoulders hunched, a small bag clutched to her chest. He watched as she hurried from lamppost to lamppost. Her downward gaze broken only by intermittent glances behind her.
Typical, he thought. They’re always paranoid. Fuck knows why. They’ve got everything these days. Entitled bitches. He allowed himself a wry chuckle. Still, at least after today she’ll have something to be paranoid about.
He stayed out of sight until she’d walked a few yards past the alley where he was standing. Then stepped out and fell into place, keeping pace behind her. Now to have some fun.
It took a minute or so until she became aware of his presence. That was always his favourite moment. He could almost hear her heartbeat jump to a different gear. She crossed the road. Just making sure. He followed, providing unspoken confirmation. It was like a dance. Beautiful in its predictability. The anticipation was delicious.
It was two days until the body was found. A kitchen boy noticed a fouler than usual smell when taking out the rubbish after closing, and peeped around the side of the bin. He didn’t go back to work that week. Or the next.
