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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Mystery
- Subject: Horror / Scary
- Published: 05/28/2017
Breaking Point
Born 1964, F, from Gordon, ACT, AustraliaMelissa Egan paused outside the Commissioner’s office, her heart pounding so hard she thought she was going to be sick. She was a lowly office worker. How on earth could she have stuffed up so badly that it had come to the attention of the Big Boss? She took a shaky breath, then another less-shaky one. She tossed her blond hair back and stood tall. Looking confident, despite the hot prickly sweat breaking out under her armpits.
Knocked and entered.
The Commissioner wasn’t there in person, but his aide and advisor stood up to greet her, clasping her cold sweaty hand in a warm handshake, before motioning for her to sit. Hmm, so maybe not getting fired or thrown in jail then.
"Hi Melissa, not sure if you know me. My name is Michael Kinnane, I’m the Commissioner’s glorified secretary.” He waved his hand self-deprecatingly, but Melissa wasn’t fooled. Michael Kinnane was renowned in the agency for his intelligence and shrewdness, everyone knew that most of the Commissioner’s successes were down to the actions and advice of this man.
“Hi Michael, am I in trouble?” Damn! That was not what she meant to say. Melissa felt her face slowburn. Her armpits itched with fresh hot sweat.
Michael laughed and sat back in his chair. “No, not at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. I have an assignment for you.” He sat forward again, a serious expression on his face. “I won’t lie,” he said. “There is an element of danger involved, and you’re obviously free to say no.” He sat back, fingers laced over his stomach, and regarded Melissa gravely.
Melissa waited in an uncomfortable silence as the seconds ticked by.
“Sooo, can you give me some details about this assignment?” She finally asked, laughing nervously.
Michael shook his head. “It’s an extremely … sensitive assignment. I’m afraid I can’t give you any details until you agree to do it, and you will also have to sign a non-disclosure agreement.” He rustled a sheaf of papers in Melissa’s general direction, then resumed his silence as he awaited her response.
Melissa’s curiosity warred with her sense of self-preservation. She wasn’t entirely surprised to hear herself agree to take on this mysterious, possibly dangerous, mission.
She read and signed the four page privacy statement, agreeing to not disclose or use any of the information she was about to receive, except in the exact circumstances pertaining to the parameters of the assignment.
Yes. Yes. Yes. And yes. Melissa handed the papers back to Michael and waited expectantly for further instruction as he peered through the pages.
“Have you heard of Harvey Corbell?” he asked abruptly.
Melissa desperately wracked her memory, dying a little inside at her failure to identify the name.
“Hack ‘em up Harvey.” Michael supplied helpfully, and Melissa felt her stomach drop.
“They’re trying to prosecute him, aren’t they? Organised crime?” She swallowed, regretting her career decision already.
Michael smiled. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s highly unlikely you will come into contact with that butcher.” (Highly unlikely? Butcher?? Not helping not helping, she thought, panic-stricken).
“Here’s the deal.” Dramatic pause. “We have three undercover agents in key positions in Corbell’s organisation, and we need to get those names to the prosecutor. If their names are revealed, they’re dead. We can’t chance sharing that information by phone or email, we can’t even risk committing their names to paper. We need someone we can trust to memorise those names and personally share them with the right people.”
“Why me?” she whispered.
“We’ve investigated you. Your record is clean, and people we’ve talked to have spoken highly of your integrity, your honesty, your ability to get the job done. And just as importantly, you’re unknown to these people. They won’t expect that we would have entrusted this information to an office nobody. No offence!” he added hastily.
“None taken,” she responded automatically, fervently wishing that some other nobody from the office had been given this opportunity to be killed and hacked into steak cuts.
“Great!” Michael jumped to his feet and ushered her out. “Report back here tomorrow at 9am, I’ll give you the names then, and I’ll set up a meet with you and the prosecutor.”
So just like that, Melissa’s world was turned upside down. Didn’t take long, either. Less than half an hour from knocking at the door expecting to be fired, to leaving through the same door with a vastly shrunken life expectancy. Good deal.
But 9am saw her back in the Commissioner’s office, in a fog of deja vu.
Michael slid a piece of paper over to her with the three names on it, watching intently while she memorised them and slid the paper back. Michael had her count backwards from ten, then repeat the names. They chatted for a few minutes about the weather and office gossip, and Melissa repeated the names. This went on for nearly an hour before Michael was satisfied that she had committed the names firmly to memory. He set fire to the piece of paper and threw it in the fireplace, and they quietly watched it burn to ashes before Michael spoke again.
“Your meeting is at 12pm. You must not be late, but best to not be too early either. I suggest you leave here at 11.30am, it shouldn’t take more than 20 minutes to walk there.” He handed her the address and directions, and shook her hand. “Good luck, be safe.”
Melissa nodded numbly and stumbled back to her cubicle, where she stared at the clock until it was time to go.
And then she was outside, with no memory of leaving her desk. Trying to enjoy the pleasure of being out in the soft warmth of a summer day, while blocking the dim thought that this could very well be the last time she ever saw daylight.
She walked, trying to shake off the feeling that someone was following her, that some dodgy looking thug was paying a bit too much attention to her. She tried not to let paranoia take hold when said thug turned away to speak on the phone.
She dismissed her paranoid fears right up until the moment when the van pulled up alongside her and two men pounced on her and bundled her into the back before sliding the doors shut, trapping her in darkness. The van accelerated away smoothly, the whole transaction taking less than a minute. She wondered frantically if anyone had even noticed her abduction.
She gazed dismally at the expressionless faces of the men who had taken her, and didn’t bother to even try asking questions or begging for mercy. She knew she was very deep in the brown stuff, but it had happened so quickly that her system hadn’t had time to catch on that she was in danger. No, wait. There it was. A burning ball of fear ignited in the pit of her stomach before flooding her body with terror-driven adrenalin. Well, thanks anyway, better late than never. She felt her body quivering with shock, and her face went numb and tingly. Really not helpful. THINK, girl, she mentally shouted at herself, but the little voice calling for reason was drowned out by the clamour in her head screaming that she had to get out of this situation NOW before it got so much worse.
One of the men leaned forward, and she looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak, to explain what was happening. Instead, she felt a sharp sting in her thigh as the needle went in, then her world went black.
Her world was still black when she woke up. She tried to speak, to scream, she wasn’t really sure what was going to come out of her mouth. But it didn’t matter anyway, her ability to speak was somewhat impeded by something round, hard and plastic that had been jammed into her mouth. Her tongue was bunched back into her throat, and she focussed on trying to breathe. She couldn’t remove the obstacle, she couldn’t move her hands. Despite herself, she started to struggle, her breathing cut off as her panic took over.
Rough hands removed the sacking from her head, taking some blond hair with it (ouch!), and undid the gag. She gratefully dragged air into her lungs with an embarrassing whooping sound, but she couldn’t help it.
She slowly raised her head and looked into the warm brown eyes of “Hack ‘em up” Harvey Corbell himself. In person.
She wasn’t even aware that she had wet herself until Harvey looked pointedly at the growing pool under the chair and nodded. “I see you’ve heard of me,” he said with a pleased smile.
“Please let me go. I won’t say anything. Please …” She hated herself, but couldn’t stop the words. She wanted to live, and would do anything to ensure she walked out of there alive. Worry about regrets later, what she shoulda said, what she shoulda done.
Harvey shook his head slowly, still smiling. “No, I can’t do that. I believe you have some … information of interest to me. You can either die easy, or you can die hard. Completely up to you.” He considered for a moment. “Actually, because I’m such a nice guy… (pause for dutiful laughter from his staff) I’ll do this for you. You give me the names of three traitors and I will let you go.” He spread his arms, palms upward. The gesture of a nice guy who is giving you the best deal he can.
Melissa was ready to spill the names, had already opened her mouth to tell all, when Michael Kinnane’s voice spoke in her memory. “If their names are revealed, they’re dead.” Could she really be that person? Could she sentence three men to death to save herself? These men risked their lives, dedicated their lives to bringing the light of justice to the darkness that these men embodied. Could she be that person?
She closed her mouth, closed her eyes, swallowed. “No.” It came out as a hoarse, nearly inaudible whisper.
Harvey leaned forward, still grinning, cupping his ear. “Eh? Sorry, didn’t quite catch that.”
Melissa sat taller. “No. I can’t do that.”
Harvey contemplated her for a moment. Then, like a striking snake, he lunged forward and punched her in the face before leaning back again, absently rubbing his knuckles.
Melissa gasped with the shocking pain, she could feel blood flowing and figured her nose was probably broken. She prayed they didn’t gag her again.
“I’m giving you another chance, girl. You give me the names or you will wish you were dead.” Gone was the nice guy. Melissa looked into the face, into the eyes of a killer, someone who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.
She knew she was in for a rough ride, but still … “No. I’m sorry.”
Harvey’s fist slammed into her broken nose. The pain was too intense to bear, and Melissa lost consciousness with a faint feeling of gratitude. She prayed that she wouldn’t wake up.
But she did.
Everything was dark again, she could smell the odour of bloody sacking. Her head ached in huge heaving throbs and she retched with pain and claustrophobia. To her horror, she realised that she actually had forgotten the names that Michael had helped drum into her head, so long ago.
“Oh good. You’re awake.”
Harvey’s voice was enough to send Melissa into a thrashing panic. The pain of her skin breaking against the plastic ties fed into the monstrous agony already ravaging her body. She realised, with a dismal shame, that she would willingly give up the names at this point to save herself. She was that person, after all. Christ, what were the names? What were they?
“I can’t remember!” She screamed. “I can’t remember the damn names!” Please kill me or let me go. PLEASE!!” She started crying desperately, watery snot mingling with the blood caking her lower face.
“Pleasepleaseplease…” The prick of a needle, then everything went away again. For a while.
When she woke up, she still had the sacking over her head, but had the sense she was now also tilted backwards. Oh this could not be good. She shook her head, nonono, whimpered with pain and fear.
“The names. Last chance.”
I can’t remember. Her lips moved, but nothing came out. She shook her head, please no.
The sound of running water, then the sacking over her face became waterlogged, clinging to her nose and mouth. She tried to gasp in air but ended up breathing in bloody water instead. She coughed it out and breathed more in, her limbs jerking against the restraints, head swinging from side to side. God, let me breathe! Please God let me breathe. God please …
By the time they peeled the sodden bag off her head, Melissa was dead. No amount of first aid was bringing her back. She had died with her secret. An enraged Harvey kicked and stamped on her lifeless body, shattering bones with his heavy boots. His staff quietly and prudently exited the room, then left the premises altogether before their boss started looking for live targets to take his rage out on. They could still hear him shrieking with fury as they drove up the driveway, headed for safety and freedom.
Meanwhile, in the Commissioner’s office …
Michael poured a glass of fine whiskey for his boss and himself, and proposed a toast to the end of Hack ‘em up Harvey’s empire. Well, a decent disruption, anyway.
“So, Michael. Tell me. What did you do? What was the plan?” The Commissioner sniffed his whiskey appreciatively before taking a generous swig.
Michael laughed, and tried to look modest. It was not a look that sat comfortably on his smug face.
“Well,” he said. “It was a simple idea, really. I took some young bimbo from the office, gave her a fairytale about this Secret Mission. I told her that we had some undercovers in place in Corbell’s business and that she was to carry these names to the prosecutor. Then we tipped off the play to one of Corbell’s people. They grab her, she’ll give up the names in a heartbeat, and BANG!” Michael slapped the desk for effect, making the Commissioner jump and nearly spill his whiskey. “Corbell shoots three of his key people, weakening the whole structure. We tip off other … organisations. And they’ll move in while Corbell’s still weak, take care of the problem for us. One less scumbag family to worry about.”
“Sooo, these guys aren’t actually undercovers?”
“Nah, they’re the real deal. Corbell will be killing off his own key people. His own loyal followers.” Michael sat back and smiled into his whiskey glass. “Sheer brilliance, even if I say so myself.”
“So you’re sure she’ll give up the names?”
“Hell yeah! All they need to do is threaten to chip one of her nails, or make her mascara run, and she’ll fold like cheap paper.”
“Or maybe they could threaten to mess up her hair?” The two men laughed companionably and began the wait for their cleverness to yield success.
In Harvey Corbell’s killing room, Melissa Egan’s lifeblood slowly spread around her shattered body, awaiting cleanup and disposal.
Breaking Point(Hazel Dow)
Melissa Egan paused outside the Commissioner’s office, her heart pounding so hard she thought she was going to be sick. She was a lowly office worker. How on earth could she have stuffed up so badly that it had come to the attention of the Big Boss? She took a shaky breath, then another less-shaky one. She tossed her blond hair back and stood tall. Looking confident, despite the hot prickly sweat breaking out under her armpits.
Knocked and entered.
The Commissioner wasn’t there in person, but his aide and advisor stood up to greet her, clasping her cold sweaty hand in a warm handshake, before motioning for her to sit. Hmm, so maybe not getting fired or thrown in jail then.
"Hi Melissa, not sure if you know me. My name is Michael Kinnane, I’m the Commissioner’s glorified secretary.” He waved his hand self-deprecatingly, but Melissa wasn’t fooled. Michael Kinnane was renowned in the agency for his intelligence and shrewdness, everyone knew that most of the Commissioner’s successes were down to the actions and advice of this man.
“Hi Michael, am I in trouble?” Damn! That was not what she meant to say. Melissa felt her face slowburn. Her armpits itched with fresh hot sweat.
Michael laughed and sat back in his chair. “No, not at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. I have an assignment for you.” He sat forward again, a serious expression on his face. “I won’t lie,” he said. “There is an element of danger involved, and you’re obviously free to say no.” He sat back, fingers laced over his stomach, and regarded Melissa gravely.
Melissa waited in an uncomfortable silence as the seconds ticked by.
“Sooo, can you give me some details about this assignment?” She finally asked, laughing nervously.
Michael shook his head. “It’s an extremely … sensitive assignment. I’m afraid I can’t give you any details until you agree to do it, and you will also have to sign a non-disclosure agreement.” He rustled a sheaf of papers in Melissa’s general direction, then resumed his silence as he awaited her response.
Melissa’s curiosity warred with her sense of self-preservation. She wasn’t entirely surprised to hear herself agree to take on this mysterious, possibly dangerous, mission.
She read and signed the four page privacy statement, agreeing to not disclose or use any of the information she was about to receive, except in the exact circumstances pertaining to the parameters of the assignment.
Yes. Yes. Yes. And yes. Melissa handed the papers back to Michael and waited expectantly for further instruction as he peered through the pages.
“Have you heard of Harvey Corbell?” he asked abruptly.
Melissa desperately wracked her memory, dying a little inside at her failure to identify the name.
“Hack ‘em up Harvey.” Michael supplied helpfully, and Melissa felt her stomach drop.
“They’re trying to prosecute him, aren’t they? Organised crime?” She swallowed, regretting her career decision already.
Michael smiled. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s highly unlikely you will come into contact with that butcher.” (Highly unlikely? Butcher?? Not helping not helping, she thought, panic-stricken).
“Here’s the deal.” Dramatic pause. “We have three undercover agents in key positions in Corbell’s organisation, and we need to get those names to the prosecutor. If their names are revealed, they’re dead. We can’t chance sharing that information by phone or email, we can’t even risk committing their names to paper. We need someone we can trust to memorise those names and personally share them with the right people.”
“Why me?” she whispered.
“We’ve investigated you. Your record is clean, and people we’ve talked to have spoken highly of your integrity, your honesty, your ability to get the job done. And just as importantly, you’re unknown to these people. They won’t expect that we would have entrusted this information to an office nobody. No offence!” he added hastily.
“None taken,” she responded automatically, fervently wishing that some other nobody from the office had been given this opportunity to be killed and hacked into steak cuts.
“Great!” Michael jumped to his feet and ushered her out. “Report back here tomorrow at 9am, I’ll give you the names then, and I’ll set up a meet with you and the prosecutor.”
So just like that, Melissa’s world was turned upside down. Didn’t take long, either. Less than half an hour from knocking at the door expecting to be fired, to leaving through the same door with a vastly shrunken life expectancy. Good deal.
But 9am saw her back in the Commissioner’s office, in a fog of deja vu.
Michael slid a piece of paper over to her with the three names on it, watching intently while she memorised them and slid the paper back. Michael had her count backwards from ten, then repeat the names. They chatted for a few minutes about the weather and office gossip, and Melissa repeated the names. This went on for nearly an hour before Michael was satisfied that she had committed the names firmly to memory. He set fire to the piece of paper and threw it in the fireplace, and they quietly watched it burn to ashes before Michael spoke again.
“Your meeting is at 12pm. You must not be late, but best to not be too early either. I suggest you leave here at 11.30am, it shouldn’t take more than 20 minutes to walk there.” He handed her the address and directions, and shook her hand. “Good luck, be safe.”
Melissa nodded numbly and stumbled back to her cubicle, where she stared at the clock until it was time to go.
And then she was outside, with no memory of leaving her desk. Trying to enjoy the pleasure of being out in the soft warmth of a summer day, while blocking the dim thought that this could very well be the last time she ever saw daylight.
She walked, trying to shake off the feeling that someone was following her, that some dodgy looking thug was paying a bit too much attention to her. She tried not to let paranoia take hold when said thug turned away to speak on the phone.
She dismissed her paranoid fears right up until the moment when the van pulled up alongside her and two men pounced on her and bundled her into the back before sliding the doors shut, trapping her in darkness. The van accelerated away smoothly, the whole transaction taking less than a minute. She wondered frantically if anyone had even noticed her abduction.
She gazed dismally at the expressionless faces of the men who had taken her, and didn’t bother to even try asking questions or begging for mercy. She knew she was very deep in the brown stuff, but it had happened so quickly that her system hadn’t had time to catch on that she was in danger. No, wait. There it was. A burning ball of fear ignited in the pit of her stomach before flooding her body with terror-driven adrenalin. Well, thanks anyway, better late than never. She felt her body quivering with shock, and her face went numb and tingly. Really not helpful. THINK, girl, she mentally shouted at herself, but the little voice calling for reason was drowned out by the clamour in her head screaming that she had to get out of this situation NOW before it got so much worse.
One of the men leaned forward, and she looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak, to explain what was happening. Instead, she felt a sharp sting in her thigh as the needle went in, then her world went black.
Her world was still black when she woke up. She tried to speak, to scream, she wasn’t really sure what was going to come out of her mouth. But it didn’t matter anyway, her ability to speak was somewhat impeded by something round, hard and plastic that had been jammed into her mouth. Her tongue was bunched back into her throat, and she focussed on trying to breathe. She couldn’t remove the obstacle, she couldn’t move her hands. Despite herself, she started to struggle, her breathing cut off as her panic took over.
Rough hands removed the sacking from her head, taking some blond hair with it (ouch!), and undid the gag. She gratefully dragged air into her lungs with an embarrassing whooping sound, but she couldn’t help it.
She slowly raised her head and looked into the warm brown eyes of “Hack ‘em up” Harvey Corbell himself. In person.
She wasn’t even aware that she had wet herself until Harvey looked pointedly at the growing pool under the chair and nodded. “I see you’ve heard of me,” he said with a pleased smile.
“Please let me go. I won’t say anything. Please …” She hated herself, but couldn’t stop the words. She wanted to live, and would do anything to ensure she walked out of there alive. Worry about regrets later, what she shoulda said, what she shoulda done.
Harvey shook his head slowly, still smiling. “No, I can’t do that. I believe you have some … information of interest to me. You can either die easy, or you can die hard. Completely up to you.” He considered for a moment. “Actually, because I’m such a nice guy… (pause for dutiful laughter from his staff) I’ll do this for you. You give me the names of three traitors and I will let you go.” He spread his arms, palms upward. The gesture of a nice guy who is giving you the best deal he can.
Melissa was ready to spill the names, had already opened her mouth to tell all, when Michael Kinnane’s voice spoke in her memory. “If their names are revealed, they’re dead.” Could she really be that person? Could she sentence three men to death to save herself? These men risked their lives, dedicated their lives to bringing the light of justice to the darkness that these men embodied. Could she be that person?
She closed her mouth, closed her eyes, swallowed. “No.” It came out as a hoarse, nearly inaudible whisper.
Harvey leaned forward, still grinning, cupping his ear. “Eh? Sorry, didn’t quite catch that.”
Melissa sat taller. “No. I can’t do that.”
Harvey contemplated her for a moment. Then, like a striking snake, he lunged forward and punched her in the face before leaning back again, absently rubbing his knuckles.
Melissa gasped with the shocking pain, she could feel blood flowing and figured her nose was probably broken. She prayed they didn’t gag her again.
“I’m giving you another chance, girl. You give me the names or you will wish you were dead.” Gone was the nice guy. Melissa looked into the face, into the eyes of a killer, someone who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.
She knew she was in for a rough ride, but still … “No. I’m sorry.”
Harvey’s fist slammed into her broken nose. The pain was too intense to bear, and Melissa lost consciousness with a faint feeling of gratitude. She prayed that she wouldn’t wake up.
But she did.
Everything was dark again, she could smell the odour of bloody sacking. Her head ached in huge heaving throbs and she retched with pain and claustrophobia. To her horror, she realised that she actually had forgotten the names that Michael had helped drum into her head, so long ago.
“Oh good. You’re awake.”
Harvey’s voice was enough to send Melissa into a thrashing panic. The pain of her skin breaking against the plastic ties fed into the monstrous agony already ravaging her body. She realised, with a dismal shame, that she would willingly give up the names at this point to save herself. She was that person, after all. Christ, what were the names? What were they?
“I can’t remember!” She screamed. “I can’t remember the damn names!” Please kill me or let me go. PLEASE!!” She started crying desperately, watery snot mingling with the blood caking her lower face.
“Pleasepleaseplease…” The prick of a needle, then everything went away again. For a while.
When she woke up, she still had the sacking over her head, but had the sense she was now also tilted backwards. Oh this could not be good. She shook her head, nonono, whimpered with pain and fear.
“The names. Last chance.”
I can’t remember. Her lips moved, but nothing came out. She shook her head, please no.
The sound of running water, then the sacking over her face became waterlogged, clinging to her nose and mouth. She tried to gasp in air but ended up breathing in bloody water instead. She coughed it out and breathed more in, her limbs jerking against the restraints, head swinging from side to side. God, let me breathe! Please God let me breathe. God please …
By the time they peeled the sodden bag off her head, Melissa was dead. No amount of first aid was bringing her back. She had died with her secret. An enraged Harvey kicked and stamped on her lifeless body, shattering bones with his heavy boots. His staff quietly and prudently exited the room, then left the premises altogether before their boss started looking for live targets to take his rage out on. They could still hear him shrieking with fury as they drove up the driveway, headed for safety and freedom.
Meanwhile, in the Commissioner’s office …
Michael poured a glass of fine whiskey for his boss and himself, and proposed a toast to the end of Hack ‘em up Harvey’s empire. Well, a decent disruption, anyway.
“So, Michael. Tell me. What did you do? What was the plan?” The Commissioner sniffed his whiskey appreciatively before taking a generous swig.
Michael laughed, and tried to look modest. It was not a look that sat comfortably on his smug face.
“Well,” he said. “It was a simple idea, really. I took some young bimbo from the office, gave her a fairytale about this Secret Mission. I told her that we had some undercovers in place in Corbell’s business and that she was to carry these names to the prosecutor. Then we tipped off the play to one of Corbell’s people. They grab her, she’ll give up the names in a heartbeat, and BANG!” Michael slapped the desk for effect, making the Commissioner jump and nearly spill his whiskey. “Corbell shoots three of his key people, weakening the whole structure. We tip off other … organisations. And they’ll move in while Corbell’s still weak, take care of the problem for us. One less scumbag family to worry about.”
“Sooo, these guys aren’t actually undercovers?”
“Nah, they’re the real deal. Corbell will be killing off his own key people. His own loyal followers.” Michael sat back and smiled into his whiskey glass. “Sheer brilliance, even if I say so myself.”
“So you’re sure she’ll give up the names?”
“Hell yeah! All they need to do is threaten to chip one of her nails, or make her mascara run, and she’ll fold like cheap paper.”
“Or maybe they could threaten to mess up her hair?” The two men laughed companionably and began the wait for their cleverness to yield success.
In Harvey Corbell’s killing room, Melissa Egan’s lifeblood slowly spread around her shattered body, awaiting cleanup and disposal.
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Shelly Garrod
01/20/2023Hazel,
That was wretchedly painful to read. Great piece of work. I could feel my anger boiling. And my heart aching for Melissa. Well deserving of the Short Story Star of the Day Award.
Blessings Shelly
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Gerald R Gioglio
01/20/2023Nicely done. Heavy stuff with a disturbing twist. Yikes! Take care.
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Kevin Hughes
01/20/2023Hazel,
I knew I should have stopped just from the thumbnail. But like Lillian and JD, the writing is so well done that I forced myself to tamp down the growing rage as I read along. Isn't it strange that when I got to the bone chilling conclusion, I wanted to hurt those two bastards...and I can't even begin to tell you what I wanted to do to those people who did the "interogation." And knowing that my Country embraces that last technique that killed her...I struggle to keep my tears back.
The Story deserved the Award, and folks who do that in real life...deserve Karma.
Smiles, Kevin
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Lillian Kazmierczak
01/20/2023Oh that was a great story. I shudder at the premise. How anyone can throw another human away for their sake makes me sick! Congratulations on short story star of the day!
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
JD
01/20/2023That was SO tragic, terrible, and horrifying! It really stirred up a lot of mixed emotion. Including both rage and disgust at the way those in power use and abuse those with none. Yes, I know it was fiction... but i'm sure there are real life examples of similarly awful and tragic outcomes for the powerless who are just doing their 'duty' at the behest of those who have power over them. Another superb horror story that sends chills down the spine. I missed reading it when u posted it, but glad i found it now. Thanks Hazel. Happy short story STAR of the day! :-)
Reply
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