My hands trembled as I stood against the cold
concrete wall and periodically glanced around the corner at her car. The
grumbling of my stomach echoed through the parking garage as I fought to
control it. Finally, the door opened and closed. I turned and watched the
familiar figure move toward her car.
My steps were silent - it surprised me how quiet the sneakers could be, but then I smiled at the name: sneakers - as I approached from behind. I pulled the knife from the inner pocket as I gained on her. She abruptly turned as she reached the car.
The disgust in her gaze was immediately visible as it met my own, but it was momentary as the eyes shot to the shining metal in my hand. Her mouth opened - as if to yell - as I reached her.
The practice had proven itself necessary as I covered her mouth with one hand while plunging the weapon deep into her side. I was surprised at how easy it penetrated her clothing and body. I repeated the motion ten times as the body relaxed and fell against the car. Her eyes, those eyes, were locked on me as she slumped over. I pushed them closed while pushing the body into the trunk.
I stood with knife in hand while surveying the contents of the trunk. I pushed the knife into the plastic bag on the inside of my coat and slammed the trunk. I wiped the car down - just in case of prints - and removed the plastic gloves while quickly walking away. A glance at my watched revealed the whole ordeal had taken less than ten minutes.
I stole one more glance at the security camera and smiled while pushing the exit door open with my foot. I laughed as I descended the stairs, the cameras were useless - hadn't worked in six months. Yes, I had double-checked the previous day.
My heart raced as I reached the bottom of the stairs. I pushed the hat down on my head and pull the collar up while exiting into the darkness of the night. I was lucky as it was raining - further ruining visibility and traceability. I zigzagged an unfamiliar route to an unfamiliar bar, grabbed a beer and watched the local news. I waited two hours before heading to my car.
My exuberance was uncontrollable as I drove home. The experience would prove invaluable when finishing my novel. After all, they always say write what you know. I did regret not using a bat, but the knife was so much more practical and effective.
My steps were silent - it surprised me how quiet the sneakers could be, but then I smiled at the name: sneakers - as I approached from behind. I pulled the knife from the inner pocket as I gained on her. She abruptly turned as she reached the car.
The disgust in her gaze was immediately visible as it met my own, but it was momentary as the eyes shot to the shining metal in my hand. Her mouth opened - as if to yell - as I reached her.
The practice had proven itself necessary as I covered her mouth with one hand while plunging the weapon deep into her side. I was surprised at how easy it penetrated her clothing and body. I repeated the motion ten times as the body relaxed and fell against the car. Her eyes, those eyes, were locked on me as she slumped over. I pushed them closed while pushing the body into the trunk.
I stood with knife in hand while surveying the contents of the trunk. I pushed the knife into the plastic bag on the inside of my coat and slammed the trunk. I wiped the car down - just in case of prints - and removed the plastic gloves while quickly walking away. A glance at my watched revealed the whole ordeal had taken less than ten minutes.
I stole one more glance at the security camera and smiled while pushing the exit door open with my foot. I laughed as I descended the stairs, the cameras were useless - hadn't worked in six months. Yes, I had double-checked the previous day.
My heart raced as I reached the bottom of the stairs. I pushed the hat down on my head and pull the collar up while exiting into the darkness of the night. I was lucky as it was raining - further ruining visibility and traceability. I zigzagged an unfamiliar route to an unfamiliar bar, grabbed a beer and watched the local news. I waited two hours before heading to my car.
My exuberance was uncontrollable as I drove home. The experience would prove invaluable when finishing my novel. After all, they always say write what you know. I did regret not using a bat, but the knife was so much more practical and effective.
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