Dead Man

“They blew his fucking head off!!!”

“Oh god oh god,” she said sarcastically,lighting a cigarette.

“ They blew his fucking head off, you don’t say?”

Inhales.

Blows the smoke cooly out and lights another.

“ Hysteria will not bring him back, you know? I’m surprised they didn’t shoot you as well.”The svelte woman told the disheveled whore that had intruded on her morning. Katrina was her name, the whores’ name, the other woman was called Shiva.

The woman was amused, but also annoyed. She was amused by Katrina’s distress, she couldn’t tell if it was an act or real. Duress was real but shock, as if the bitch didn’t know it was coming.

Shiva stood up and pretended to go along with the norms. “Why did you come here ?”

“Perhaps, you should creamate him to save money, or would that cut to much into your dope account? Is that it? You need money?”

There was a certain bitter twist about the lips and determined cant and resolve about the older woman as she looked dispassionately at the sniveling whore in front of her.

She allowed herself to savor the moment. Katrina still had his blood on her face and hands, she could smell it. Poor weak insolent bitch, she thought, and what a fright it must have been for her. Poor poor thing, ah well, sighing, she remained standing, preparing for this dirty task.

Inward laugh at the audacious nature of people, “oh my god , they shot him in the head!!!” “No shit, it’s to bad they didn’t shoot him in the nuts and let him bleed out, I would have loved to hear him scream.” She thought.

“Are you okay to stay here? I am going to the store to pick up a few things and I will bring you some goods back. Will that be all right?” “Don’t wail to loudly I wouldn’t want the neighbors to call the police,” she added coyly.

She left the pathetic bitch in her pristine house, knowing that the cleaners would take care of it all, in a few hours.

In the car, she pulled down her sheath of a dress, buckled the seat belt, lit a cigarette, and turned the ignition. Roy would not be happy . Oh well, if it had to be done.

“What the fuck do you mean?”

“She’s not dead?”

“SHE’S NOT DEAD ? YOU MEAN THEY KILLED HIM AND LEFT HER LIVING!?!?!?”

“OH MY GOD!?!?”

“ Its under the sink, the lockbox, that looks like a tool box. The code is 6789. I’ll send the crew ‘round in 3 hrs. “

The cold and heavy 35 , sat nicely in her hand, and nicely in her pocket, butted against the hip, would do just fine.

“Thank you, Roy!”

You see, Katrina and her crew had done some really nasty shit, to some really big people. It got her off, and made her a profit, her and the whole gang of them. They used their dirty little cocksuckers,to keep it up, and in the end; they weren’t willing to stop.

They would have to be stopped.

She drove 105 on the way home, she was amused and annoyed. The road was straight, no traffic, whatever forces there are in this goddam life had paved the way, all lights green , all systems go.

She thought of what to do to kill the few hours while Roy’s team cleaned the guts or brain matter out of her house. A movie or the library might be nice, maybe catch an art show.

She pulled up, adjusted the gun cradled on her hip, and felt a little of the old excitement one gets when pulling something off.

Inside, sat Katrina, hair wet from the shower, a piece of chocolate cake in front of her, calmly wearing Shiva’s favorite dress.

“Did you get it?”

“Oh yeah, I got it, and then some!”

“Really, let’s have it!”

She walked into the kitchen, slung a little baggie of ice/dope on the table, and walked as if going to the fridge, before opening the door, she turned and asked, “Did you like it?”

“Good cake wasn’t it? She steps towards Katrina, puts the steel to her temple and whispers, “ I don’t remember telling you, you could have a piece of fucking cake, and you know what else? You know what else, I don’t remember , huh?”

The fork dropped. Metal clink. Cylinderlic click.

“DO YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE I DONT REMEMBER?”

“I DO NOT REMEMBER inviting you to use my shower.”

“That was my favorite fucking dress.”

Poor thing, Katrina had pissed her pants. Poor thing.

Poor thing lil Kay Kay wanna plead off on the bosses at work, lil Kay Kay wanna talk an stutter about the landlord paying her, about bein desperate, about how I know she is on that dope, about how Bobby was threatening her life…ooh ew, boo motherfuckin’ hoo.

As if.

Poor lil thing, now she wanna start with threats, she threatens Shiva with bosses, with the landlord, with rumors, what if’s and the cops.

As if.

Careful to step out of splatter range, Shiva pulls the trigger and Katrina loses her head.

Poor thing.

Shiva dumps the body out of the chair and watches the blood pool.

She sits in the chair and lights a cigarette.

She feels relief.

She nearly finishes the cigarette.

Standing, she surveyed the room, took a deep breath and a solitary tear rolled down her face.

She took a few steps towards the door.

She stopped and ground the cigarette out into the slice of chocolate cake wedge, stepped over the large body on the foyer and walked away.