Fiction Friday – 25 April 2008

This Week’s Theme: Someone buys a dresser at a yard sale. When they get home there is a roll of film taped to the underside of one of the drawers. What happens next?

“You ever have a really bad day at the office Mr Peterson? You know, one of those days were you get in to work, and things have really hit the fan. Work’s piled up, people are jerking you around and everything is getting too much. You know that kind of day? Course you do, what am I thinking, you work in uh… credit control, right? Probably get people always late on their payments, always an excuse, never their fault, right?”

Swish. Swish. Swish.

“Yeah, I’ll bet that really frustrates you. You can’t do your job well because of it. Always some wiseass thinks he can game the system, and instead he just winds up pissing you off. That’s gotta make you grouchy.”

Swish. Swish. Swish.

“So, I’m having one of those days too. See, I work for some guys, and you know what management are like, real hardasses. Anyway, they’re telling me I gotta track down some package, get it back, blah blah blah. You understand, right?”

Swish. Swish. Swish.

“Make my job simple. Help me out here, one guy to another. Where is it?”
With a final swish, De Marco rubbed the open razor across the leather and canvas strap, and held it up to the light to inspect it. The thin edge faded into the hot light. Perfect.

In front of him, Peterson sat slumped in the chair, whimpering.

“I said…” De Marco swiftly grabbed Peterson’s head by his hair, jerking it back, and brought the open blade up against his neck with his free hand. Leaning in close, eyeball to eyeball, De Marco spat the words into Peterson’s face. “Where. Is. It.”

Peterson mumbled through the rag tied round his mouth, eyes bulging and red. De Marco brought the razor up to his face, and with a slight flick, cut the rag away from his face.

Gasping, Peterson stuttered. “I… d-don’t know. Please, I don’t know anyth-th-thing. I just want to… I just want too… please…”

“Look Mr Peterson, I’m not enjoying this any more than you are. Frankly I want to be at home, in bed, with my wife. You want to be at home. In your bed. With your wife. But if you tell me what you did with it, then I can get you two out of three.”

Peterson looked up quickly at De Marco, his eyes brimming over with tears, shaking his head.

De Marco shrugged. “Like I said, we’ve all got a job to do. Your wife wouldn’t tell me what I need to know, you get what I’m saying? But you can. So tell me numb nuts. Where is it?”

“I don’t know what you want. I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT!!! Please, god please don’t…”

“Jeez, don’t be so pathetic. The pictures dumbass. You bought the damn thing, the pictures were stuck underneath, so what did you do with them?”
Peterson’s lips trembled, and he sniffed back a mix of snot and blood. “P-pictures? I don’t understand…”

De Marco sighed. “Wrong answer.” He swept his hand across Peterson, and turned the razor crimson.

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2 thoughts on “Fiction Friday – 25 April 2008”

  1. The opening of this was slick Paul. I kept wondering where it was leading to – what the swish was – a broom, it’s the cleaner whining … or so I thought! Well it was a cleaner of a different variety.

    You changed the name of the baddie half way through – from De Costa to De Marco (just as an aside!)

    I could appreciate the nastiness of this having seen Sweeney Todd last week!

  2. Aargh! I woke up this morning and I actually thought to myself “did you change the bad guys name mid-story by mistake?”

    This is what happens when I write late at night. Going to break the no edit rule and fix that now!

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