Short Fiction

The Grandmother Shot the Man in The Head Twice

Once is good, twice is better

“Come,’ he said, ‘come, we must see and act. Devils or no devils, or all the devils at once, it matters not; we fight him all the same.” ― Bram Stoker, Dracula

The Grandmother sprinkled a shovel of dirt on top of the tiny kitten’s body. She had gotten the body from a veterinarian. The baby cat was stillborn, despite the vet’s best efforts. It was a shame.

What was not a shame was the body buried five feet below the kitten. It was male, white, 6’4” inches tall, 250 lbs. He died when she put a bullet in his brain. She had pressed the silencer against his left temple and looked directly into his frightened, pale blue eyes. She told him why he was going to die; then squeezed the trigger.

When he escaped from prison, he chose the wrong house to invade. He walked for two miles, then broke into the last place on a random street. He first terrorized, then brutalized the mother and young girl inside. As he sexually assaulted the older woman at knifepoint, she bit off half his penis. He killed the biter by choking her to death. That took time. The chaos allowed the naked daughter to fight for her life. She got away. The murderer ran. The woman he killed was 009’s beloved niece, the young girl, her niece’s daughter.

The police captured him and took him to a local police station. When he confessed to the woman’s murder, he said, “What are you going to do? I’m already serving three life sentences. It was worth it.” He casually turned his head and spat on the interrogation room’s floor, grinning. Suddenly, he slid off his chair to the floor, clutching his groin with both hands. Rolling back and forth, he screamed and cried for medical attention.

While he was being returned to prison, the Grandmother got him. It took calling in a few favors, but she knew which bus and its schedule. It was a simple matter to stop the bus, tranquilize the guards with a gas grenade and a dart pistol. The dazed guards saw a man take their hand-cuffed prisoner from them. The man appeared to know the prisoner.

Once she had him, she sedated him and drove forty miles. A light mist was falling when they reached their destination. When they arrived, she woke him up, and she told him who she was. She took off her disguise and added a silencer to her pistol. She did not talk to him as she walked him into the forest to his grave. The murder walked with a limp and grimaced with each step.

009 shot him in front of the grave; he fell in. Maybe he was dead, maybe not. A bullet to the brain usually killed a person. Grandmother shot him in the head again for good measure. She threw her disguise into the grave. After covering him with dirt, she placed the kitten on top of him and concealed them both. She replaced the forest soil, ground cover, twigs, and leaves using her expert gardening skills. She didn’t look back as she walked to her car.

The authorities would look for the accomplice who had freed the murderer. They would never find that man, just as they would never find the murderer. The Grandmother put the shovel in the boot, got in the car, and drove away.

Toni Crowe retired as the Vice President of Operations to pursue her dream of being a writer. Toni has written six books, two of which won the 2019 Reader’s Choice Gold Awards. Her bestselling business book, “Bullets and Bosses Don’t Have Friends: How Do You Manage A Man Sitting With His Dick in His Hand?” was one of the winners. Her first book, “Never a $7 Whore” was the other.

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