Untitled Story by pemberly

[pemberly]

hi. i used to write funny perverted fanfics, and though they were well received, it became too difficult to come up with new scenarios. so, while insanely bored at work today, i wrote this non-perverted, non-funny (very) short story. i hope ppl like it...or at least don't hate it.

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Jill stared at her hands in disbelief. They were covered in blood, and it had started to dry on. The white of her French tips on her manicure she had gotten just two days before were already streaked with shades of maroon. She could not look up to survey the damage she had caused. Maybe if she didn’t see it, it didn’t happen. Vaguely, she could feel Greg shaking her. Was he calling her name?

Suddenly, Greg was hugging her. But why? He was the cause of this. It was because of him that she had killed that bimbo. No, she didn’t want to think of it now, but it all came rushing back. Her eyes slowly took in the carnage around her. The blood had started to pool around Stacy’s head, and was so dark in contrast to the bright yellow and white linoleum floor.

Greg sat Jill down in the nearest chair, and pried the ashtray she still clutched in her hand. He then proceeded to clean up the remains of his former lover. He took off his jacket and shirt, and worked diligently, wiping up all the blood he could and shoving the dirty paper towels into a black plastic garbage bag. Every few minutes, he would look up at Jill and say, “Honey, you just sit there. You don’t have to say anything. It’ll be all right. I’ll take care of everything.” Now most of the blood had been wiped up, and only the most important task remained. Greg took the largest cleaver knife from the block on the kitchen counter and hacked with all his might into Stacey’s should to cut the bone. He hadn’t even bothered to close her eyes. Jill stared in horror at the scene. It was as if her husband was an actor in some terrible B-movie. Yet it was her who was the murderer. Within two hours, Greg had cut the body into parts no larger than a foot long. His arms were covered up to his shoulders in blood. He tied the plastic bag up and looked at Jill with a worn expression.

It was then that Jill came back to her senses. She sprang into action and grabbed all the cleaning supplies she could find. She and Greg had the place spotless within another two hours. The room now looked so sanitary, it scared Jill to think about what had just happened before. She looked at the black plastic bag in the corner and tried to imagine that it was just a bag of trash.

“Let’s go.” Greg grabbed Jill’s hand, and with his other hand, picked up the bag. She saw him struggle under the weight. “I’ll go start the car,” she said, as she ran down the steps. “OK, but let me drive.”

The couple drove in silence. Greg stared at the road while Jill stared at Greg. He was another person. This was not the Greg that had excitedly bought hundreds of dollars of baby clothes when she first got pregnant. This was not the smiling face she saw at the end of the aisle on her wedding day. His expression was empty and cold. It wasn’t even the heated, hard expression he wore when they argued.

Jill thought about what had happened in the last 8 hours. She had suspected that Greg had been cheating on her for weeks. He had been so different after her miscarriage. But she had changed, too. When she confronted them, she was shocked that Greg was yelling back at her; like she had driven him away! Then when that wh*re slapped her, she lost it. All she could think of was that he didn’t love her anymore, and her whole life had changed. The rage overwhelmed her, and now here they were. Was this proof that Greg still loved her? What a silly thing to be thinking about at this time.

When the car finally came to a stop, Jill looked around her. Even in the dark, she recognized the large open area immediately. This was the parcel of land Greg had bought soon after they were married. When they were young newlyweds, full of hope, they had planned to build a ranch here and raise their children simply. Then after they had found out that they would never have children of their own, Greg had thrown himself into his work, and Jill had tried to drown herself in material things to rid her of her disappointment in herself. She never thought she would see this place again, and had just started thinking about selling it to pay for a trip to Europe.

Greg took the black plastic bag out of the trunk and carried it up the steep hill. Jill followed closely behind. This was where they had gone every weekend for two months to watch the sunrise. As Greg started to shovel, Jill snapped out of her stupor and started digging beside him. “I love you,” she said. “I love you, too,” he replied.

[GuGu]

yah, i want you to write a very perverted and very funny story.

nice story. hehehe

[MrPhotastic]

So the murder weapon was an ashtray??