A. L. Kaplan

Tag: murder

  • When Will It End?

    It will not end until we stand up and say

    “NO MORE.”

    Check out this article by Charles French.

    via Cowardice, Hypocrisy, and Corruption

  • AIN’T GOOD

    crow composit

    “Look at all them owls in that tree,” said Lowell. His jowls wobbled as he wiped sweat from his face with an already soaked and disgusting orange sleeve.

    Harvey wrinkled his nose. The putrid scent blowing down the hill wasn’t much worse than Lowell’s odor. If he didn’t still need the despicable little man, Harvey would have strangled him on sight.

    “They’re vultures,” said Harvey. “Owls ain’t up in daytime and don’t flock like that.”

    “Well they stink. I don’t wanna go this way.”

    “It’s this or rot in prison.”

    Lowell continued to whine. “You said you had a way out, a secret way.”

    “I do,” said Harvey, as he trudged to the top of the ridge and gazed at the vultures.

    Lowell joined him a moment later, gasping from the exertion, eyes closed. It was a full two minutes before Lowell opened his eyes and saw the partially decomposed bodies strewn under the tree. Their telltale orange jumpsuits marked them as prisoners. His meaty hands grasped Harvey’s arm.

    “Those are guys who supposedly escaped.” Lowell’s voice rose in pitch. “They’re dead! We’re gonna die!”

    “No, Lowell,” said Harvey. “WE ain’t gonna die.”

    Dozens of beady black eyes watched as Harvey cut Lowell’s throat and pushed him against the tree. Blood coated the bark, which began to glow.

    “Hurting little girls ain’t good, Lowell. Judge went too easy for what you did to my sister.”

    Harvey watch Lowell’s eyes widen as the birds descended then stepped through the portal.

  • JUST FRUITS

    As Professor Jacob’s wife bit into the last pear in the basket, Michael couldn’t help but grin. It had to be the one he’d poisoned and had delivered anonymously earlier today. All he had to do was wait for her to get sick, then swoop in and save her with the antidote hidden in his ring. Professor Jacob would shower him with praise and get him the internship he wanted. He’d become a hero, the top medical student.

    It didn’t take long for a reaction. Mrs. Jacob began to gag. Foam sprayed from her mouth. Michael rushed forward to work his magic. Everything was going according to plan. That is until he reached Mrs. Jacobs. Her petite hand clamped around his wrist. Nothing in her appearance hinted at the strength that now cut off the circulation to his fingers. All signs of illness were gone.

    “You tried to poison us.”

    Words stuck in his throat.  “What… no… I can help….”

    Her lips curled back. Long white fangs lined her mouth and her usually blue eyes turned amber. “Then why was your scent all over the fruit?”

    Panic made Michael’s stomach clench. He tried to pull free but couldn’t break her hold. Dozens of amber eyes glared back at him when he looked around the room for help. Fur and sharp teeth were everywhere, along with deep rumbling growls.

    “You measured the poison for an adult,” said Professor Jacob. His hands grasped Michael’s shoulders, forcing him to the ground. “Our housekeeper’s daughter was only eight. You’ll pay for her death.”

    Music began to blast loud enough to make the champagne glasses shake. No one heard Michael’s screams as the pack took their revenge.

  • LESSON LEARNED

    “You’re nothing but a thief, a leach living off people’s dreams,” someone yelled.

    Jay froze, hand inches from banging on Mr. Smith’s front door. He’d been thinking those same words as he slogged down the snow-covered driveway. So excited that a publisher wanted his novel, Jay didn’t think twice before shelling out thousands of dollars for editing, cover design, and postage. He even paid for most of the printing. All he had to show for his work and money was the box of overpriced books he bought from the publisher. The novel wasn’t even available on-line.

    A second voice squeaked like a rat caught in a trap. “I’ll pay you your royalties. Just let me get my checkbook.”

    It seemed Jay wasn’t the only one taken in by Smith Publishing. He peered in through the narrow window next to the door, but all he saw was a pair of shadows on the wall. One of them waved what looked like a weapon, just like the gun weighing down Jay’s pocket. The other held its hands in the air.

    “It’s too late, Smith.”

    “Please. I’ll give you anything.”

    Three shots rang out. The smaller shadow slumped to the ground. Flakes of snow slipped inside Jay’s jacket collar, but he didn’t notice. He wouldn’t be getting any money back after all. Nor did he get to confront Smith himself. At least he had a new novel idea. This time he’d be careful and check the Writers Beware and Predators and Editors websites first.

  • Forever Hold Your Peace

    Blaine eyed the neatly displayed refreshments just outside the chapel and clenched his fists. Fruit punch and tea weren’t what he wanted, unless they were spiked with bourbon. His stomach twisted. This had to be done. It was his duty, just like serving in Iraq. He pushed open the doors just as the preacher asked if anyone had any objections.

    “I sure as heck object,” Blaine’s voice boomed across the chapel.

    Whispers grew as he marched up to the pulpit. Not surprising considering Roy McCoy stood next to his old fiancé. That snake oil salesman swept her off her feet while Blaine was off on tour. The man had the gall to smirk at him as he approached.

    Tiffany looked fantastic, the picture of health. There was no trace of the mysterious illness that only Roy could cure. Barely contained anger coursed through Blaine’s veins. He still loved her.

    “Blaine,” she whispered. “Don’t do this. Please.”

    Bombs and enemy gunfire were easier to face than the pleading in her eyes. Courage prevailed.

    “If you don’t want me, that’s fine, but I can’t let you marry this worm.” He pulled an evidence bag with a bottle of ipecac syrup from his pocket and held it up.

    “Officer Baker found this in Roy’s apartment along with a mess of other drugs. He’s the reason you were so sick, Tiffany. There’s a warrant for his arrest. His last wife disappeared. Officer Baker is waiting outside. The choice is yours.”

  • FLOWERS

    Tears stained her face as she slipped from the car. A loud snore made her jump and cringe. Last night’s beating marred her face. He never let her stop here, the one place that made her happy. If he woke….She didn’t breathe until she was sure he still slept.

    Bright yellow flowers stretched as far as she could see. They called to her, singing, swaying in the sun; a peaceful contrast to her turbulent life. She pushed through thick stems to take a picture.

    Flower heads pressed against her. Their bright yellow faces bent and swiveled like no plant should. Sweet perfume filled her nostrils. Fear and pain vanished. Sunshine kissed her lips. When she opened her eyes thousands of yellow faces beamed at her as she hovered above the field. She smiled back. What a beautiful place to rest. No pain. No tension. Far from his reach.

    A patrol spotted her car later that day with her husband still passed out in his seat. Searchers followed a wide trail to the center of the field where they found her battered body under a blanket of flowers. Amongst the bruises a peaceful smile graced her face.

    Denials were useless. The officers were as moved by her husband’s tears as he had been to hers. Those same fists that had hit her so brutally shook when they cuffed him. They hauled him away, far from the beauty he denied her. Forever locked in shadows while she soared free.

  • Death For Sale

    “I’m telling you, Eric, You don’t want this car. It’s jinxed. Every one of its thirteen owners’ was murdered. I looked it up.”

    “Nonsense, Carl. She’s just a classic with an interesting history. Check her out. Hot and sexy. It’s like we were made for each other.”

    ***

    Beth watched Eric hand the cash to the seller. Anticipation rippled from fender to fender. Oh how she detested his type. She’d make sure he got his comeuppance, just like the others. Already the plan was in motion.

    Long ago she learned of her fiancé’s other wives and confronted him. He didn’t like that much. But crushing her body with the hood of that 1954 blue Pontiac before it even left the factory, didn’t get rid of her. Not even a shallow grave in the woods or a thorough car wash did the trick. Somehow she’d stayed curled around that engine. Her revenge came by way of the mail to all five women. They took care of him.

    As for her, she had a knack for enchanting betrayers. The first to fall was that two timing reporter, Bill Keenan. Funny how his wife learned about his affair.  Beth’s burning hate for infidelity always helped spot the next target. Sometimes the wife did the deed and sometimes the other woman. Didn’t matter to her as long as it was done.

    Her engine began to purr as Eric slid behind the wheel. It was only a matter of time now.

  • Tough Stuff

    “I won’t tell nobody,” said Tabs. “I swear, Oscar, your secret’s safe with me.”

    Oscar’s tail swished back and forth, the gray fur bristled out. Then he dug his claws into the tabby and grinned, watching Tabs’ eyes grow wide. “I know you won’t talk, Tabs. You did enough of that last night with your cluck, cluck jokes.”

    “I didn’t….”

    One sharp bite cut him off…for good.

    Leaving Tab’s body in the ally, Oscar purred, thinking about his youth. He hadn’t always been a cold hearted killer. At one time he’d been some kid’s prize-winning pampered pet. More importantly, he’d never felt right in his old skin. His heart wanted to roam the land, to hunt and kill. He couldn’t do that in a cage.

    First opportunity Oscar got he slipped his prison and found a surgeon who could make is dreams come true. It took two years to complete the change and another to work his way into the organization. Now he ruled the neighborhood. The last payment to the doctor was sent eight years ago.

    Tabs had been an old friend from the farm, the only one who knew his past. Some friendships get old, worn out. Last night’s joke in front of the guys was the last straw for Tabs. Now he was gone. No one else knew how Oscar really started life. Even the doctor had experience a small ‘accident’ recently. No one would ever know Oscar had been born a chicken.

  • THE DIG

    Lush green covered the banks of the river. It would have been beautiful were not for the scull in my hand. Finding bones on an archaeological dig wasn’t unusual, but his one was different. Caucasian, male, one gold tooth, just like Brendan Harper, one of the students who disappeared three years ago.

    The university didn’t seem to notice how many students dropped Professor Hamilton’s classes or simply vanished over the years. And I mean years, as in decades. My boss red flagged the case and I’d spent two years undercover waiting for him to slip up.

    “Are you ready to join your classmates, Miss Van?”

    Icy fingers touched my shoulder and the scull crashed to the ground. It felt as though the temperature dropped fifty degrees. I could feel a tug on my soul, feel my life force drain away even through the protections. Panic closed in. If I didn’t act soon I’d be nothing but a withered corpse for some future victim to find.

    A twist of my wrist slipped the magic dagger into my hand as I spun around. I plunged the weapon deep into the lich’s emaciated chest. His red glowing eyes widened in their dark sockets. Bony hands clenched my neck even as his body disintegrated.

    “You can’t destroy me,” he hissed. “I’ll be back within a week. Your soul will be mine.”

    “Not this time, Lich. I destroyed your phylactery this morning. Oh, and my name isn’t Miss Van. It’s Miss Van Helsing.