THE CAT AND THE SHOTGUN
STORY 1 OF THE INSANITIES OF HOTEL ROOM 63
You might say that it started with a bang. It was definitely a bang. A loud bang. A bang that comes from a barrel. A bang that comes from a barrel that is attached to a gun. A bang that comes from a barrel that is attached to a gun, that is being held by a crazy man.
Jake fell back on the floor (with half his skull missing).
The cat purred.
Jake’s girlfriend screamed, her knees collapsing. She crawled to the corner of the room, where she sat, bundled up in a ball.
The crazy man (attire: Hawaiian shirt, brown shorts and flip flops) lowered the gun and laughed. He licked his exceptionally red lips and looked down at the corpse.
“Hm…hm hm hm.” He shook his head and sighed. “Jake…oh buddy, I hate it for you, I really do.” He squatted down beside the corpse. “But sometimes…shit happens, what can I say?” With a smile, he reached into Jake’s breast pocket. When he found nothing, he reached back and extracted Jake’s wallet (which, by now, was soaked with blood). Identification cards, store membership cards, credit cards, pictures, all filled Jake’s wallet galore. The crazy man ignored them. An abundance of one-hundred, fifty and twenty dollar bills packed the billfold. He flipped through them with great cursory. Then he stopped. His eyes shifted back to the corpse and an ominous smile spread across his face. He pulled from the wallet a money note, drenched in crimson iron liquid. Once enough blood had dripped off the bill, the small portrait of George Washington could be seen.
“Nothin’ like a buck,” he said. The dollar was folded into fourths, and placed in the crazy man’s pocket.
He stood up and looked at Jake’s girlfriend. Despite her obvious terror, she was somewhat calm. She was still sitting in the corner, and held her knees to her chest, breathing hard, as though there was a lack of oxygen. She gave the crazy man a blank stare as her chest heaved back and forth from fear.
The smile, smirk, had never left his face. “Now, I’m guessing two immediate questions have instinctively entered your mind.” Speaking in the most casual tone possible, he stepped closer as he spoke, and his voice got softer and softer. “The first: why in God’s name did I kill Jake (such a handsome, intelligent young man), and, instead of robbing him blind (not that he can see anyway) take only 1 dollar? 1 dollar!” By the time he finished talking, he was face to face with the girl. The smile was gone from his face. She made no attempt to pull back, but instead looked him in the eyes. They sat like this for almost thirty seconds. Jake’s girlfriend was unsure whether to say anything or not.
Then that smirk returned.
“Ill tell you why.” He turned and casually strode back to the corpse. The blood from the wound had stained half the room’s carpet, and an entire wall. Bending down, he took two fingers and dabbed them in the puddle. Turning so that she couldn’t see what he was doing, he put his fingers to his forehead. For a moment she thought he was scrubbing the blood onto his head. She was wrong. The crazy man turned around. On his head he had inscribed
IM CRAZY
The crazy man put up a great laugh. Picking up the gun, he stroked the barrel, and started pacing around the room. Most of the blood had dried quickly on his forehead, but some still dripped down onto his face.
The cat purred again.
“Now that we have the first question answered, shall we proceed, my darling?”
He laid the gun over his shoulder, and stopped pacing.
“Are you going to kill me?” she said it before she realized her mouth had opened.
Looking at her, he sucked his teeth twice. He nodded his head and smiled. “Yeah… I think I will.”
The cat purred again.
She was startled by his bluntness, but didn’t lose her composure. She could only manage one word. “Why?”
He didn’t answer, but instead pointed to his forehead.
IM CRAZY
“Sorry sweety.”
Jake’s girlfriend swallowed hard. This was the end.
The cat purred again.
The crazy man pointed the shotgun and pulled the trigger.
The brown cat’s remains were stuck to the wall in a second.
“I hate cats.” He muttered. “Oh well. I’m feeling nice today so I’ll give you two choices.”
Maybe, just maybe he will let me go. She thought.
He cocked the shotgun. “In the chest or in the face?”
READER'S REVIEWS (3) DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.
"You say this is good? I think you are the crazy man. (1) Weak grammar and punctuation usage. (2) A copycat story line that is not only unoriginal but also quite juvenile. (3) A waste of my valuable time reading it. Therefore, I won't read anything else you've posted because I suspect I will find much of the same. Thank you and goodnight. " -- Richard.
"Well, thanks for your opinion." -- Author.
"I would say that for you being only 14, it does show promise. I don't know what story you copied, but then again I'm not as well read as I'd like. One of the things that I used to do when I first got here was pull up my stories on the computer that were in the same genres that I preferredand compare the differences between styles and whatnot, how their stories flowed and differed from mine, and just generally looking to improve my craft for the better. I think you'd find it a nice experiment. I also write horror by the way. There's not a lot to comment on in this installment, no backstories being presented, there's no indication of why the man is crazy, etc, etc. So I'll continue reading the series to see where it goes, but I'd say from what I've read you have a better command than most 14 year olds." -- Michael Harris, Detroit, MI.
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