The Mistress

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Short Story by: Griff D. Con

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Status: Finished | Genre: Horror | House: Booksie Classic

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Submitted: November 29, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 29, 2018

A A A

After a casual encounter with a beautiful young woman he's been seeing for some time, a young man sits comfortably at the end of a sofa bed getting dressed.

"That was fun" the woman states.

"Yeah. It was." the man replied, slipping his shoe over his heel.

The woman, barely covered by the silk sheets, crawled to the man and slid her hands over his chest from behind, sensually biting his earlobe.

"So..when do I get to see you next?" she whispered.

"I--I don't know. I have meetings all this week and.." he replied hesitating, trying to allude to his lie.

"And..?" the woman asks curiously.

"I sorta--started seeing someone else." the man casually expressed, as if it was no big deal.

She huffed and released her hands from his body in disappointment. "Oh."

He continued getting dressed. Acting like nothing was the matter.

"Were you going to tell me?" she asked.

"Tell you what?" he replied, as though he owed her nothing.

He stood up and started out of the room.

The man walked into the living-room to grab his wallet. The woman stormed into the room following behind, now wearing a robe, furious.

"..that you're fucking someone else?"

"No need to be hysterical"

"Hysterical? I'm being hysterical?!?!?!"

"I mean...are you hearing yourself right now?"

"What's her name?"

"Does it really matter?"

"Yes! I want to know!"

"Lisa, her name is Lisa. Satisfied?"

The two continued to argue. The woman complained that in the entire time they have been sleeping together, he never once mentioned seeing other people. He scolded and told her that they agreed that they were only a casual hook up and nothing more.

The man walked out, heading to his car to leave. The woman stormed after him, continuing to barrade him at close range. He tried to open his car door to leave, but she threw herself against the door, nearly slamming his fingers in the door.

The two tussled a bit. She struck him in the face with her manicured nails, leaving three marks down the right side of his face.

He became furious. The woman attempted again to strike, but the man stopped her before she could, grabbing a hold of arms, shaking her violently, screaming at her.

She pushed back against him to get free from his grip.

"Let go! Let go!" she screamed.

As she demanded that action, the man let her go without warning, causing her to lose her footing, falling backwards, slamming the back of her head viciously against the rear-view mirror.

The man stood frozen.

Not sure what to do now.

He looked around in a panic. Luckily it was in the middle of the night, and she lived alone so there would be no one to witness.

The man leaned down to check her pulse. He gasped, falling backwards onto his butt, scooting away from her immediately.

Yup. She was dead.

He was as stiff as the body. Not a clue in sight as what to do. He knew he couldn't call the police.

"No they'll lock me up for sure!" the man whispered to himself.

He knew he needed to act fast, but what?

Suddenly an idea sprang to mind. He knelt and reached over with both arms. He picked her up off the cold cement floor, and laid her down on the couch. He knew there was only a small time before the sun would come up.

The man ran into the kitchen to look for something to cover her in. He found a box full of shrink wrap and a thing of rope. He wrapped her over and over again, tying a knot so thick, a bulldozer couldn't break it.

He then carried her out to his car, keeping his eyes peered to make sure no one was around. He grabbed a shovel from the garage and threw it in his trunk.

The man drove down a dark and dim lit road. It seemed like he had been driving for hours. The monotonous scenery started to play tricks with his eyes, causing him to occasionaly doze off. Each time snapping himself out of it so he didn't end up killing himself.

He arrived at a deserted location. The road thin, surround by desert and God knows what animals of the night. The wind had become harsher.

The man, careful not to bring any unwanted attention, made sure the lights off his car remained off.

He opened the door of the backseat, pulled the woman's body out and laid her on the dirt road. He opened the trunk and took out the shovel.

He dug...and...dug...and dug.

Til finally the hole was deep enough.

The man placed the woman's body inside the hole and began filling the hole with the loose dirt.

He patted the recent area forcefully with the butt of the shovel, making sure not to bring any attention to itself.

The man wiped his forehead, let out a deep sigh of relief, threw the shovel back in his trunk, got back in his car and sped back the other way down the lonesome highway.

After a few hours, the man finally arrived back home. His hands stained from the woman's blood and dirt from the desert, he instantly stripped off his clothes and got in the shower.

He stood there, letting the warm water wash over him. He shrieked as the water ran over the cuts on his face.

"Why?" a voice whispered.

The man quickly looked in-front of him, looking for someone to be there.

"Hello?" he called out, wiping water from his eyes, pushing back the shower curtain to see who was there.

After a brief moment, he shrugged it off and closed the curtain, resuming his shower.

The man had settled in bed for the night. Of calm sound and mind, the man turned over on his side to get comfortable.

A decrepit hand rose from below the bed, nestling it's way under his chin, stroking it flirtatiously.

"Mmm..you like that baby?" a voice moaned.

"Oh yeah." he replied, nuzzling the hand touching him.

He only enjoyed the touch for a second before realizing something was wrong. He opened his eyes immediately, gasping, eyes bulged practically from their sockets, investigating the whole room, breathing heavily.

He knew something was wrong. The man pulled his hand closer to his face, as his hand felt cold and wet. The man nearly screamed at the sight of his hand covered in blood. He threw the sheet off.

The man shrieked at the sight of the entire bed covered in blood.

"All I wanted to do was love you baby" the voice protested.

"You're--you're dead" he shouted in anger.

"Mmm..I'm very much alive" the voice claimed, as a gangly figure slowly stepped out from behind the shadows.

"Aaahhh!!!" he screamed, jolting his body, backing against the wall, his eyes bulging from his skull.

The ghoulish creature stuttered it's movement towards the man.

"What's wrong? Don't you love me?" she asked, jolting towards him.

The man moved along the wall of the room, knocking various objects to the ground, desperately trying to get away.

As he neared the bedroom door, he extended his arm trying to reach the doorknob.

"Don't you like me anymore?" the ghoulish figure asked, blood dripping from the back of her head.

Finally the man reached the door, almost ripping it off the hinges from opening it so fast. Sprinting down the hallway, running so fast he tripped over his own feet, crashing down the stairs, hitting the back of his head pretty harshly.

Briefly the man was in a hazy state from the trauma.

When he finally came to, he rolled to his hip to sit up, letting out an agonizing groan. His vision was too blurry to assume a clear image of his surroundings.

As his vision became stable, the ominous silhouette of a dark figure standing attentively in-front of him began to move towards him, sending chills down his spine.

The man scooted on his butt, desperate to escape, but the figure was inching closer rapidly.

"Where are you going?" she faintly asked.

The man ran got to his feet, bolting towards the kitchen, grabbing a knife to defend himself.

"Stay back! I'm warning you bitch, STAY THE FUCK BACK!" the man shouted.

His threat didn't phase the creature. He began to panic.

Out of fear, he lunged forward, driving the blade deep into the stomach of the ghoul.

The ghoul stopped in it's track.

A sense of relief came over the man as he set his arms down at his side in confidence.

The ghoul fell to it's knees in front of the man, holding it's stomach firmly.

Suddenly the door burst open. Police with their guns drawn, yelling for him to drop the knife and put his hands behind his head.

He pleased that she was already dead. When the officers refused to listen, the man pointed out the decaying body only to then notice the body of another woman lied beside him, lifeless.

It was Lisa.

THE END