The Cursed Knife A Short Story by Crimson Quintessence

Karl Longhorn looked at the cursed knife in his hands and felt anxious. He poured himself a tall glass of whiskey on the rocks and knocked it back like it was merely water on a hot day.

He walked over to the window and reflected on his rainy surroundings. He had always hated the heavy rains in Kent with its high, muddy hills. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel anxious and his urgency to kill.

Then, he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Annalise Grissom. Annalise was a bold beauty with sleek silhouette and silky arms. A recovering drug addict with a dark past and even darker personality.

Karl swallowed hard and bit his bottom lip, gripping the cursed knife in his palm. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a selfish, vile, whiskey drinker with a sunken chest and scrawny arms. His friends saw him as a scattered, sad geek. Once, he had resembled a dying old man, his physique was so bad. But inside him lived a beast no-one could control. The killer inside him was a hundred times stronger than his physique displayed and was vile to every female that crossed his path.

He had been turned down and made fun of for the last time. Women would learn to love him or fear him. Now, not even a selfish person who had once resembled a dying, old man, was prepared for what the beast inside him had in store for Annalise today. She had brushed him off and poke fun at his scrawny body one to many times.  Now he would teach her a lesson that was long coming to her.

The rain pounded like a jack-hammer on concrete, making Karl angrier. The noise inside his head was like thunder clapping, over and over again.

As Karl stepped outside, Annalise stood on the bridge, he could see the wicked smile on her face as she noticed him walking towards her.

“What are you doing here Karl, I have no time for your scrawny ass and childish banter this evening.”

“I am here because I want revenge,” Karl bellowed, in a spiteful tone. He slammed his fist against Annalise’s collarbone, with the force of 10 anvils. “I frigging hate you, Annalise Grissom, you have made fun of me for the last time!”

Karl looked down, angrier and still fingering the cursed knife and rocking side to side on his feet. “Karl, I know you’re a pain in the ass to be around so do try to overcome your infatuation with me,” she replied.

They looked at each other with angry feelings, like two angry bears rampaging at a very freshly killed salmon.

Karl studied Annalise’s dark eyes. Eventually, he took a deep breath. “I’ll make you sorry you ever made fun of me you ungrateful whore!” he screamed, in harsh, deafening tones.

Annalise looked terrified, her body went limp like a wet noodle and what came next was nothing but shocking.

Karl could actually hear Annalise’s body tear into a thousand pieces and watched as the crimson river flowed from what was left of her. Then the bold brutally violent killer hurried away into the distance.

Not even a glass of whiskey would bring down Karl’s rage tonight.

Copy Right Protected
by the Crimson Vaults

Thank you for Visiting with love JillyG

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