Prologue psychological thriller stories

jaymcewan Screenwriter, Novelist, Traveller.
Autoplay OFF   •   7 months ago
Prologue from my upcoming psychological thriller novel...


There I was, blood all over my naked body, shaking uncontrollably. It happened again. This time to someone who I may not have cared deeply about but someone who may have been loved by another.

I looked at the palms of my hands, stripping at where calluses would have lived. My breathing was at such a fast pace that I had to actively slow it down.

Something came over me and I lost myself. I didn't know that that would have happened, but it did. She laid there, motionless.

Her mouth was still open in the position that it was when she took her last breath. I doubt she thought that the last moments she would have on earth would have been after making love to me.

In a way, I wondered if that was how she wanted it to be. I never intended for us to sleep together, but we did.

Although, she seemed to be controlling me, rather than allowing me to dominate her.

I sat against that wall wondering if these desires of mine would ever cease to exist. I closed my eyes while the cold of the wall against my bare back first shocked me, then calmed my nerves.

My closed fists slowly opened up; my arms dropped to my side.

While my eyes remained closed, I could hear each drop of blood that trickled down her neck and off of her left ear, making a faint sound when it connected with the hardwood floor.

Each drop replaced the ticking of the clock on the wall.

Every drop brought me closer and closer to the reality that there was a body in my home, and it was up to me to remove it before the blood stained my Persian rug.

I opened my eyes, looked past her naked torso leaning over the sofa, and looked at the Hassam painting across from me.

I stared at the painting of Celia's Thaxter's Garden and imagined myself running the palms of my hands softly against the flowers and grass.

My mother was at the end of the garden, glaring at me with a smile on her face. I walked towards her, then realized my hands were getting cut by the tall razor-sharp grass that I was passing.

She kept the same smile on her face, expecting me to reach her. Every step that I took made her seem farther and farther away.

Snap out of it, I thought.

Go and get your cleaver.

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