Lit.Org - a community for readers and writers Advanced Search

Average Rating

(0 votes)

You must login to vote

The rain pours steady onto the sleeves of his button-up business casual attire, thunder blasting in the distance and cars passing by only occasionally on the city street. A savory time, the time just after work when the hours are the most between now and his next day at the office. Tomorrow morning when his alarm sounds he will be jealous of this time, when he had nothing to worry of besides what channel to turn to on the television.

In only his fifth week as a working man, Jack was still settling in. The days were long and stressful, and he looked forward to the time when he could feel comfortable with his commitments. A wife at home and a baby on the way, his only option was to become comfortable. He had to support his family and when that alarm rang, he could not break the chain that pulled him to his cubicle each morning.

Near to his apartment building's front door, a car rushes by. A modified Honda Civic with all kinds of stickers and lights on it flies by through a puddle near the sidewalk, spraying up grimy water that sprays Jack in the face. His lips, his hair are made wet by this disgusting filth, and the car speeds on. He takes a moment to wipe his face before digging in his pockets for keys and opening the door.

Now angry more than depressed, he steps slowly up the flight of stairs towards his second-floor apartment. A neighbor greets him in the hallway, “Hard day fella? Looks like ya needa shower! Heh heh” He continues on without a slow in his stride, passing Jack with a chuckle. Jack doesn't bother look at him, only absorbing his comment and continuing on.

He grabs the doorknob and tries to enter his home. It stops suddenly, locked. It is never locked, Jack thinks. Suspiciously, Jack keys open the door and silently enters. Thump, thump, thump, he hears. The wall is being shook and he listens for a moment. Jack walks towards the living room to evaluate the situation.

A man on his knees, clothed with his pants unbuttoned, and his wife, grabbing the seat of the couch with her pants half down. They look up as raccoons caught in the headlights of a semi-truck. They didn't even bother undressing, Jack thought. He grabs the lamp off an end table and smashes it over the man's head repeatedly, bashing the sweat of his brow into his skull and as the skull breaks the sweat continues to drip into his brains. He relentlessly hits the man until the top of his skull is flat and obviously finished with the beating, before looking to his screaming wife. She sits in the corner of the couch, cuddled up screaming. He turns to her with calm eyes and lifts his fist back, striking her in the face again and again until she become limp, unconscious. Jack walk to the kitchen and grabs a butcher knife, returning to his wife, who is slumped over with blood dripping from her lip. With the knife he slices come cuts on her arms and legs before shoving its tip into her eye without hesitation but with his utmost force, the strong blade only stopping at the back of her skull. She pops up for a moment and falls limp again, squirming to remove the blade before quickly accepting death, relaxing her body except for her left leg which flails wildly as the rest of her body lay dead. The twitching of her leg aggravates Jack further and he begins to stab it uncontrollably, twelve times before it finally stops.

Exhausted, confused from the ordeal, Jack falls to sit on the floor. With knife in hand he looks at the brains of the man, still oozing out of his skull and spreading across the floor. He looks to his wife, only one eyeball left and blood dripping from nearly every orifice of her body. Jack looks to the floor is disgust, lifting the knife high in the air before driving it into his chest. With a wince he removes the blade, only to shove it in twice more before he falls to his death.

Related Items


The following comments are for "Slice, Stab, Die"
by flymos

Add Your Comment

You Must be a member to post comments and ratings. If you are NOT already a member, signup now it only takes a few seconds!

All Fields are required

Commenting Guidelines:
  • All comments must be about the writing. Non-related comments will be deleted.
  • Flaming, derogatory or messages attacking other members well be deleted.
  • Adult/Sexual comments or messages will be deleted.
  • All subjects MUST be PG. No cursing in subjects.
  • All comments must follow the sites posting guidelines.
The purpose of commenting on Lit.Org is to help writers improve their writing. Please post constructive feedback to help the author improve their work.