This blog is for me that others may read. I spend at least an hour on each prompt then go back and edit it then post it. If I come back to it I come back to it but if I don't then oh well. I have so many stories in my head and get depressed if I don't write something so this is more therapy for me. Enjoy!
Write about a character as they finish burying someone else alive. What would drive this character to do this? Is burying this person alive revenge... or punishment?
Characters: Alaric, Casimir, Simone, and Miles.
The autumn night was crisp and cool but Alaric was sweating as if he were directly under the summer sun. There was little light except for Miles's flash light. Alaric's back was aching as well as his arms as he piled on every shovel full of dirt into the hole. There was a lump in his throat every time the dirt landed. Sweat stung Alaric's eyes. At least that's what he'll tell Casimir when he gets back. Alaric could still hear Simone's screams. He could hear her nails claw at the casket lid. She just had her nails manicured too. Always afraid to break a nail. She preferred them perfect. Perfect for digging into flesh. A pain but also a pleasure as she reached completion and drove her polished nails into Alaric's flesh. His hot blood mingled with sweat. The scratches on his back a delightful sting. Those nails could pierce flesh but not wood. Alaric could still see her face, Simone's perfect oval face with her indigo eyes that once sparkled with joy at the sight of him now were filled with fear as he closed the casket lid. Those eyes haunted Alaric.
"Hurry up," Miles called, "I want to go to bed."
Alaric stopped as he held the shovel in a loose grip. If he could get close enough then he could hit Miles over the head, knock him out cold. But Miles had a gun trained on him. A Walther P38 that the krauts used during the war. Miles loved that gun. He killed the Nazi bastard it belonged to. He actually killed him with it. So Miles considered it lucky. It never let him down before.
"Why not... turn on the radio?" Alaric said in between breaths. "Pass the time."
Miles gave a wide grin that reminded Alaric of a picture of the devil he saw once on a playing card.
"You think I'm stupid or something?" Miles asked. "I turn around and take this pistol off you then you knock me over the head with that shovel then bury me too along with your whore? I don't think so."
Alaric let out a mirthless laugh, "You got me... but I would have knocked you out then killed you with that fucking gun then re-dig this mother fucking hole, get Simone out then put you in it."
Miles's face creased into anger. "You think you're funny don't you?"
"Casimir always thought so."
Miles cocked back his Walther then walked up to Alaric so they were a few feet away from each other. Miles shined his flash light in Alaric's eyes making him squint from the brightness. Alaric could still see the anger in Miles's shrinking blue eyes.
"Yeah he did...," Miles said, his voice shaking from anger, "you were the court jester always making the king laugh. His loyal dog. You thought that made you special huh? You could do anything you wanted and the boss would just pat you on the back. Just give the dog a whack on the nose with a rolled up news paper and that would be it." Miles walked up closer, his Walther inches from Alaric's forehead. "But you see you went sniffing around the boss's girl. Simone was Casimir's bitch. This time...," Miles gave an evil laugh, "you're not getting away with it this time. You shit the bed my friend and you know what happens to the dog that shits in the master's bed?" Alaric's eyes were like stone.
"Casimir wants me alive," Alaric threatened in a low whisper.
"Yeah... yeah he said that..." Miles had a glint in his eyes that Alaric didn't trust. He never trusted this weasel. "But if you went for my gun then I would have no choice but to shoot you. I needed to defend myself."
"He'd never buy it," Alaric spoke with absolute calm.
"Oh yeah?" Miles said with disbelief, "and why's that?"
Alaric stood straight up, a tower of boldness to Miles's small stature. "Because if I had gone for your gun then I would have killed you and delivered your corpse to him." With all his strength Alaric struck Miles hard in the groin with the top end of the shovel. Miles doubled over groaning in pain. Alaric went for the gun but the bastard wouldn't let go of it. Alaric began wailing punches but they weren't as hard as Alaric would have liked them to be. All that digging had tired him out. Miles managed to punch Alaric in the face. Alaric staggered but still held firm onto the gun. They struggled in a dangerous tug of war that would end with one of them getting a bullet in the stomach. If Alaric had his knife then he could just stab Miles but Casimir had taken his weapons.
"You little f--," Miles growled through his teeth but most of it got lost in grunts. Alaric summoned all of his strength to help him push the barrel towards Miles. Suddenly a shot rang out. Both men stopped struggling. Miles and Alaric looked at each other in shock for a moment. Then Miles keeled over clutching his stomach, covering up a bleeding wound.
Alaric got up and took the gun that Miles dropped. He stood over the man who gurgled something incoherent. Without mercy Alaric shot Miles full of holes. The shots rang out leaving a disturbing echo then silence. Alaric holstered the gun in his pants then managed enough strength to take up the shovel then proceeded to remove the dirt that piled on his lover.
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