Written for Friday Fictioneers. My story follows the picture prompt. For other entertaining stories just click on the blue frog at the end of this post.
PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright Ted Strutz
In 1890, Joseph Kemp was convicted of violently murdering his common-law wife with a hatchet and sentenced to death via the electric chair. What made that special, is that Joseph was to be the very first man in the world to die in this manner, so of course nothing could go wrong.
The warden was very nervous. This, of course, was his first execution. He wanted everything to go according to plan. But it worked well enough on their equine test subject, he reasoned, so how could it not succeed on a much smaller man?
“Flip the switch” he commended.
Word count = 100
Written for Finish The Story Challenge. My story begins after the photo. For other short stories just click on the blue froggie below.
Finish the story begins with: “As the year wound down to a close, they gathered around the table and raised their glasses.”
As the year wound down to a close, they gathered around the table and raised their glasses. Everyone except their host Bill.
The aftermath of this party would make him one of the most famous killers of all time. Seven at once! He could see the headlines now. “Seven people poisoned at holiday party in local mansion.”
He knew he was insane. Hell, he had the papers to prove it! His little party would be the culmination of his perfect little insane storm. They all had screwed him in some manner.
There was his wife Susan. Eighteen years of pure hell putting up with her. That would end soon.
Childhood friends, Mark, Jason, Andrew, and Sam. Friends who had become business partners and then ousted him from the company they had formed.
And finally Beth and Howard the neighbors from Hell.
“Drink up my friends,” he yelled over their laughter.
And they did.
In response to Ermilia.
He had planned it in excruciating detail. A walk to reconcile their differences. Her fall would be exactly 430 feet to the rocks that lined the beach below the cliff. Arms outstretched he begged for a hug. Turning her arms to the left was easy and a heavy push was all it took. He knew the currents would take her out to sea. He would be long gone by then.
He started humming….”Good-Bye Mary Ann, Good-Bye Mary Ann, hope you find the love you’re looking for.”
This story is written for Friday Fictioneers.
The cold waters of the Saint Lawrence River confronted the old man as he glazed at the new stadium under construction. 1975 was a boon year for the great lakes area. The Detroit Lions would soon be the new occupants of this building. He had told his friend that they would have dinner at the Machus Red Fox Restaurant. He picked his old friend up in his brand new Mercury Marquis Brougham. On the way they stopped at the construction site to examine the foundation.
It didn’t take much money to convince the construction crew to bury the remains of Jimmy.