Thursday April 28th, 2011

The exercise:

Write something from the perspective of: the killer.

So today, just a couple days away from the conclusion of one of the coldest Aprils on record for this area, it hailed. While I was out bringing in wood for our fireplace. Which we're still using, as it hasn't yet been warm enough overnight for us not to use it.


But hey, the Canucks won game one of their second round series tonight! So that helps.


They deserved it. Every last one of them. If they didn't, I wouldn't have done it, right?

What, do you think I'm some sort of maniac? Far from it, my friend. Far from it. I simply administer justice wherever others are too weak, too scared to do so. I'm a hero, really. Maybe they'll put up a statue of me after I'm gone.

Take Shelly, for example. The way she flaunted herself all over town, tempting poor, innocent boys to stray from the Good path. It almost worked on you, didn't it? But I took care of her just in time. Don't worry, you don't have to thank me.

What was that? Stop mumbling, please. I find it highly aggravating. Besides, if I wanted to hear your thoughts on the matter I wouldn't have stuffed that gag in your mouth.


Greg said...

I'm impressed, the Canuck's seem to be doing really well this year! Let's hope they keep it up.
The hail sounds like not much fun for April. I hope it's not going to hurt your harvest too much.
I think your last line is entirely apposite for the piece and works beautifully. The whole thing has a slightly demented air to it, as though you've done all this before....

the Killer
They march. Armies, foraging for food, laying down trails, always ready to attack, or to defend their Queen. They are implacable, but not indefatigable. Terrifyingly, the death of one will bring massive revenge, so when I go to war, it is against them all, and the stakes are the highest possible. They are truly myrmidons.
It helps that they are only pismires and I am human. I have boiled the kettle, opened the bottle of bleach, and stand prepared to pour liquid death down upon the emmets.
Ant-killer just doesn't have the right ring to it.

Sophia said...

There must be a way to undo it.

Perhaps she's not really dead, just mangled a little. Yeah, that's right. She'll wake up in a minute, lick her wounds and toddle off... yeah right. Straighten out those legs with the horrible new angles in them by ... licking. Maybe not.

Did anyone see me hit her? No-one around. I'm off.

Marc said...

Greg - I just have a good imagination, that's all. That's my story and I'm sticking to it, no matter how many times the police ask.

I particularly liked the line about going to war against all of them.

Sophia - haha, that was fantastic. Especially the 'Maybe not.' Also the last paragraph.

Welcome to the blog, I really hope to see more of your writing here :)

Prodigal Bun said...

Thanks Marc - I would like to write more here too!