The Fly In the Window

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
... there is nothing to say about this story but if you want to read it it's fine with me

Submitted: September 26, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: September 26, 2012




I was only 15 going on 16 at the time of the murder…

Splat went the fly on the wall as it fell onto the counter. I checked it to see if it made the fall but the fly was dead on impact.

I looked out the window to see the sun shinning as brightly as ever: the green, green trees still growing deep into the dark brown soil… but then I seen something no one should ever have to see…

another fly blocking my view of a perfect day. You may think so what, but I bet you’ll never say that to my face… why? You ask your self…I’LL TELL YOU WHY!!! I swatted at the beast as it fell into a clear glass on the window seal. I grabbed the cup just to find out that the monster lived…

So I wanted to play a little game I like to call “fly away.”  I watched as the fly, thinking it could get away, flat on it’s back circling the cup trying to escape from my hand. I thought to my self for a moment and came to the conclusion  to go easy on it this time, so I slowly turned on the water “drip, drip, drip, drip” till the fly was on it’s belly trying to swim it’s way out “HA! You make laugh.”  I said as I took the devil’s smile upon my own.

I took the end of the fly swat and dipped it into the icy water and pulled out the fly. I laid the dripping fly on the counter thinking it was dead but after I took a good look I saw its beastly nose moving so I ripped one of its wings off its back and grabbed a dull knife and slowly smashed the fly’s belly open. I found out a lot about her, like for one thing she was pregnant. So to spare the eggs, I crushed them in front of the mother her self, only to find out the monster lived!

After careful consideration I cut the mother’s head trying to decapitate her with the dull knife. When I finely finish her I watched the red in her eyes fade away like it was finely over but even in death I killed her even more…

I washed away her red blood stains down the drain, then I wash her away with the smashed eggs falling be hind…

Don’t ask me if this is true,  not because the truth will always hurt, good or bad it’s like mixing poison with love, it = death with in the soul of the beating heart.

© Copyright 2017 K Cub. All rights reserved.

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