FICTION | FLASH FICTION | THE FICTION WRITER’S DEN | MURDER | DEATH
The Stranger
Harold knew why he was there…
This story is a response to Making Your Characters Squirm! (Idea 9), written by JF Danskin at The Fiction Writer’s Den.
Focus on a character who killed someone or committed another major crime in the distant past. Nobody in their life knew anything… until one day, someone shows up and starts dropping hints that they know the secret. Describe the first scene where they meet. And now what is your character going to do?
Harold had a beautiful home and a beautiful wife. He had children who adored him, and a nice car that got him from point-a to point-b.
But there was always that lingering thought in the back of his mind. The memory of that dreadful night. That night he’d rather forget but would never be able to.
George was gone. Dead. Dead and buried. And there was nothing that Harold could do about it now, except hope that no one ever learned his secret.
He thought that he’d covered his tracks pretty well, until one night there was a knock at the door.
His wife answered and immediately called to him.
It had been raining, and the visitor was drenched. Harold was unsure as to why he invited the stranger in. He just had a feeling in his gut. A feeling that it was the right thing to do in the moment.
But there was an eeriness about him. Harold had an ominous feeling. And as he offered the man a towel to dry himself off he just knew. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew that his secret was out.
The man took the towel and nodded his head in gratitude. Harold showed him the way to his study. Once there, he offered him a seat in his club chair.
The very same chair that he often sat in, contemplating what he had done, and how he’d gotten where he was today.
Had it been worth it?
Sure, Harold was now a wealthy man, and his family would never want for anything. But the daily gnawing in his stomach tugged on what little morality Harold had left.
He knew he was going to have to take care of this guy too.
He sat across from the man and waited.
The stranger had managed to dry off most of what remained of the rain. And he finally looked up.
“You know why I’m here?”
“Yes.” Harold answered. “What’s the next step?”
Thank you for reading my story. I’d love to hear your opinions.
You can check out some more of my writing and follow me here. (She, Her) I am a writer, an artist and a freelance editor. I edit all genres, and I specialize in Romance. I write a little bit of everything, whatever is on my mind at the moment. Get an email when I publish a new story.
