A Sweet Murder

3 min read

I stood there looking at her blood soaked hair. I held the axe, which I had used to part the back of her head with, tightly in my hands. It felt good to know that she was dead. I did feel a little sad it had come to this, but she would not agree to love me, and left me with no choice.

I picked up her lifeless body and carried it to the basement. She was so beautiful, I loved her more than life itself. At least I knew I would never lose her to another person. Her heart was mine. I wanted it as a keepsake.

I went to the wall where I kept a power drill. I used it to drill into her chest until I had made a large enough hole to get a chisel into it. I grabbed a chisel and hammer from my tool box. It took some doing, but I managed to pry her chest open and get my prize, her heart. It was as beautiful as she was. This was a memento, a token of her affection. She was showing me how much she loved me, how sweet. I would treasure it always.

I grabbed a sledgehammer, which I had bought just for this occasion, and I began to pound the concrete with it. After a few hours I had made a nice sized hole. It was time for the shovel. I dug a couple of feet down. Then, I kissed my lover on the cheek, and placed her ever so gently into the hole.

“Good-bye my sweet,” I said.

I took the bag of cement I had bought at Bill’s Hardware Store, I don’t think he suspected anything, and started mixing it with water. I covered my love with the wet cement and smoothed it out nice and neat.

“Perfect,” I said, admiring my handy work.

I went back upstairs, turning the light out behind me.

That night was particularly wonderful. I partook of some alcoholic beverages. I drank to my heart’s content. After some time my eyes grew heavy and I drifted off to sleep.

After a bit of sleep, I was awakened by a scratching noise at my basement door. I staggered over to the door and opened it. There was nothing there. I turned on the basement light and went down to check on my love. When I got down to the basement, everything appeared as I had left it. The smoothed out concrete was nearly done hardening.

“Just hearing things I guess,” I said to myself.

I went back up the stairs. I stopped at the top of the steps and turned to look once more at the concrete tomb. I had a strange feeling about something, but I wasn’t sure what.

I turned off the light, then, I turned around to come face to face with my love. Screaming I fell backward down the steps. She had startled me. I couldn’t move, I thought I was paralyzed. I thought I had broken my back.

She crept down the stairs and stood over me smiling.

“Well my love,” I said.

She looked down at my hand. I was not aware of it, but I still held her heart in my hand.

“I was just keeping it safe,” I said, laughing in my drunken state.

She reached down and took her heart back. I was powerless to stop her, not a muscle would move. She then walked over to the far corner of the basement and grabbed the sledgehammer. She walked back over to me and raised the hammer above her head.

“Now, my dear, let’s not be hasty,” I said, still laughing.

She dropped it. I closed my eyes, waiting for the impact. But there was nothing. I opened my eyes, she was gone. She had stolen her heart back. As usual, even in death, the lady always wins.

Written by Steven Farkas

Want to know what kind of books I write. Think an Ed Wood, Roger Corman, Lloyd Kaufman movie, but in book form. B-Horror and Science Fiction pulp stories.

In 2021 Steven Farkas founded the Scary Stories Book Fest. A festival of Horror books and authors in Asbury Park NJ.

Steven Farkas lives in the bizarro world of New Jersey where he spends his time thinking of new ways to scare people.

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