Dream. Create. Write
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Short Stories by M. Kerbz

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Follow me down the winding dark rabbit hole dare to Take a peek through the looking glass…

- M. Krotz

My stories are heavily influenced in the realm of noir crime novels, gothic fantasy/ dark fantasy, with explorations of historical identity, sex, sexuality, violence, sexual violence, racism, death and at times self harm. If you are not comfortable exploring without a specified content disclaimer please do not read the story. My gaol is to deconstruct important issues that shape us in a fictional world and to entertain you as a reader, not to shock, harm, or trigger anyone.

With that said, please enjoy and I always look forward to getting feedback❣️

Receive a FREE copy of my PRINCE CHARMING manuscript when you join my e-mail list!

 

Below is a an early rendition of Prince Charming, a short story that I featured here for an anthology I had planned to write. However, I have decided to go in a different direction and publish the short stories independently of one another. I may still, in the future, decide to anthologize them. Prince Charming is a fantasy noir story that is loosely based on a true crime. To learn more about it, subscribe to my email list above and you will receive a free copy of Prince Charming; to be released October 1, 2023. Or, purchase Prince Charming on Amazon or wherever you may buy your books. Available October 1, 2023.

This story may contain material that some readers may find disturbing. Reader discretion is advised.

 

Price Charming Part 3

Part 3

End… or is it?

THE CREAM SILK NIGHTGOWN GLISTENED IN THE CANDLELIGHT. It hugged her beautiful frame just right, revealing the curve of her breast and thighs. She was indeed a lovely sight. Her hair spilled over the silk pillowcase like glistening threads of dark rich spun gold. He had touched up her lips with the blush kissed lipstick and dusted her cheeks with a brush of spring-time rose powder to imitate a seductive look of a woman in the thrall of her sexual orgasm.

Carefully,  as not to disturb the meticulously applied makeup he slipped her head into a translucent bag and sealed it around her neck. Taking a seat next to her, he waited.

Her eyes flew open but she could not move. He stood over her unstirred. Soothingly he took her limp hand in his. “Relax my dear, it’s almost over. In just a few minutes you won’t have the weight of the world on your shoulders anymore.” He could see the panic in her eyes, her breaths deepened as she sucked in as much oxygen as she could muster pulling the plastic closer to her lips. This agitated him. “Now you stop that.” He scolded her as if he were reprimanding a small child. “You stop this unnecessary panicking, you’ll ruin your lipstick.” Her breathing slowed “that’s a good girl.” He placed her hand back on top of the other,  neatly folding them on her stomach. 

He waited another twenty minutes leisurely keeping time on his wristwatch. When he was sure that enough time had passed he removed the translucent hood from her head and looked her over. He checked carefully that not a lash was out of place. He brushed the honey tresses and laid them lovingly across the silken pillow once again.“For posterity,” he said taking out his phone and snapping a vintage filtered and  filtered black and white photos, “you’ll always be a beautiful lioness in a jungle of hyenas.” His heart soared with excitement and pride. 

It was as if she were frozen in a timeless spell. He straightened the silver necklace so that it fell just so between her lovely bosoms, and was pleased at how it picked up the shadowy lights that the candles cast. He moved towards the end of the bed and framed another picture. A sigh of satisfaction escaped his lips. 

He positioned himself over her to breathe in her scent. He had chosen their meal well. The spices and lamb meat seasoned her well. He breathed in deeply pulling from the core of her essence. It was a shame she didn’t care for the mint jelly, this generation has a weak palette, he thought loathingly. Carefully he pulled out a handkerchief that was tucked in his breast pocket and dabbed at the corners of his mouth before taking a deep breath in to absorb more of her, leaving behind an ashen husk. Once he had consumed as much as he could, much like a fine wine, he left a drop or two behind to show his civility and that he was no glutton.

Leisurely he made his way around the decadent room examining this ornament and that keepsake shopping a few trinkets that caught his eye placing them delicately in his pocket. Once satisfied with the small loot he amassed, he moved quietly from the room closing the door softly behind him. Looking at his watch he hastily made his way to the dining room and cleared the table wiping up any fallen crumbs and buffing down the wood. He scratched out her empty plate that only harbored remnants of bones. His own plate still brimming with the over-indulgent array of food that she had not noticed went untouched. 

He methodically cleaned the kitchen. Hanging all the pans neatly on their hooks. He hunted down a few good Tupperware, proceeded to pack all the leftover food neatly in the right sized containers, and stacked them like an Amazonian pyramid neatly in the refrigerator. A carton of expired milk gave him pause, his lip curled in disgust. walking over to the sink he ran warm water as he poured the spoiled contents out. Folded the carton neatly in on its self and placed it in its rightful place. The bin! 

Taking a few soothing breaths he moved gracefully through the kitchen as he tidied humming busily along to the new melody that played in the background. He worked so diligently that the model kitchen shined as if it had never been touched, just as it was always meant not to be. The pride he felt surveying the space gave him a warm satisfied feeling in his chest. 

He started the dishwasher and took a last look around the space making sure that every possible corner was put right and in its place, as it had been before his arrival. Content, he wrapped a light scarf loosely around his neck, threw his jacket over his shoulders, and placed his fedora snuggly in its place just askew enough that it sat low over his brow. He took his cloth shopping bags and folded them neatly under his arm. 

The room was still and quiet. A stark contrast to the bustling of life that buzzed outside her glass wall that looked over the sparkling city. Carefully surveying the room he was satisfied that every menagerie slept quietly on their perch as he tucked the room in with the hazy blanket of night.  

Mahalia CrotzComment