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Mastermind
#WritcoStoryPrompt4
The email he has received today is marked urgent. But it's from a friend who died two years ago.
—:—:—
Dug-Tug-Dug-Tug
He froze, holding the phone in a tight grip. Cold sweat dripped from his forehead, his lips opened and closed trying to muster a word. Call out someone—or say something. But his voice was being held by the heavy and fast thumping inside his chest.
He looked up from the phone screen, searched around and found an empty house. Why did he do that? Not like 'he' would suddenly come back to life to confront him.
Not like he could come back for revenge. Right?
"I know what you did."
His hands started trembling that the phone clattered to the floor and he started gasping for air. The doom in his veins is palpable in his ashen face. The email sent him spiraling like a wingless bird suddenly plunging down to its death. It could be anyone else impersonating or good-timing him.
But, how could that happen?
All of 'his' accounts were taken care of—deleted and closed before someone could take advantage of it...2 years ago.
Two years ago.
His knees gave out under him and he fell against the cold floor. Lily couldn't know about this—not when he was the reason why 'her' boyfriend—ex-deceased boyfriend now—is dead and he, himself was the one dating, kissing and taking 'her' to bed— in 'his' place.
'All according to plan.' The voice in his head reasoned out. 'Everything is fine.'
But staring at the cracked screen of his phone, guilt ate him away. Powerful. Relentless. Disturbing. How could a simple email ruin his day?
But it's been like this before ever since— his friends blood littered his hands and he was running barefooted from the crime scene. The victim was him—or so, he wanted them all to believe.
The innocent one—but the truth is a horror movie during the 2nd of November. The truth is dark and sometimes, it's better to stay where it is.
Six feet under the ground.
His teeth chattered in anxiousness. 'Not again'—he thought.
"I got away from it. I'm safe. Nobody knows." He whispered to himself. But the silence suffocated him.
"It's fine. It's just an email. He's dead. Lily is mine. I'm innocent." The lies kept piling up to cover the intensity of his dilemma.
But the phone pinged again. Mocking him loudly.
The sinister ringtone echoed around the empty house like a death bell signaling his last moments. Like a robot, he outstretched his hand to take the phone off of the floor.
"Traitor. I'll come for you."
© astaire_grey
#thriller #mystery #horror #writco #friendship
The email he has received today is marked urgent. But it's from a friend who died two years ago.
—:—:—
Dug-Tug-Dug-Tug
He froze, holding the phone in a tight grip. Cold sweat dripped from his forehead, his lips opened and closed trying to muster a word. Call out someone—or say something. But his voice was being held by the heavy and fast thumping inside his chest.
He looked up from the phone screen, searched around and found an empty house. Why did he do that? Not like 'he' would suddenly come back to life to confront him.
Not like he could come back for revenge. Right?
"I know what you did."
His hands started trembling that the phone clattered to the floor and he started gasping for air. The doom in his veins is palpable in his ashen face. The email sent him spiraling like a wingless bird suddenly plunging down to its death. It could be anyone else impersonating or good-timing him.
But, how could that happen?
All of 'his' accounts were taken care of—deleted and closed before someone could take advantage of it...2 years ago.
Two years ago.
His knees gave out under him and he fell against the cold floor. Lily couldn't know about this—not when he was the reason why 'her' boyfriend—ex-deceased boyfriend now—is dead and he, himself was the one dating, kissing and taking 'her' to bed— in 'his' place.
'All according to plan.' The voice in his head reasoned out. 'Everything is fine.'
But staring at the cracked screen of his phone, guilt ate him away. Powerful. Relentless. Disturbing. How could a simple email ruin his day?
But it's been like this before ever since— his friends blood littered his hands and he was running barefooted from the crime scene. The victim was him—or so, he wanted them all to believe.
The innocent one—but the truth is a horror movie during the 2nd of November. The truth is dark and sometimes, it's better to stay where it is.
Six feet under the ground.
His teeth chattered in anxiousness. 'Not again'—he thought.
"I got away from it. I'm safe. Nobody knows." He whispered to himself. But the silence suffocated him.
"It's fine. It's just an email. He's dead. Lily is mine. I'm innocent." The lies kept piling up to cover the intensity of his dilemma.
But the phone pinged again. Mocking him loudly.
The sinister ringtone echoed around the empty house like a death bell signaling his last moments. Like a robot, he outstretched his hand to take the phone off of the floor.
"Traitor. I'll come for you."
© astaire_grey
#thriller #mystery #horror #writco #friendship
