Seers ~ A Short Story About Murder

“Why, yes, Mr. Anderson. You will be successful in killing your wife if you decide to do so. Is there anything else I can assist you with?”

The gentleman had been eyeing her with a curious mixture of suspicion and intensive scrutiny. His every move must be carefully made so that there was not the least misstep in the timely execution of his wife’s murder. So vital, in fact, that he had chosen to consult a psychic. But this was no ordinary psychic. She did not have a storefront on a back street with neon signs. She would never be spotted at a psychic fair or one of the metaphysical bookstores either. She was the elite of seers. Nothing about her appearance would have given the slightest impression that she was anything else but a well-established, independent business woman.

He smiled at her and said, “Nothing else really. You answered most of my questions, but I do have one more question.”

She drew on her cigarette and peered at him as she exhaled with a “here it comes” smile slowly building on her face, and she replied, “And what would that be, Mr. Anderson?”

“What makes you think that I won’t kill you?”

“I was hoping for something more interesting from you than that,” she replied. She then leveled him in the eye and said, “because I’m a seer, Mr. Anderson, and I’m not a stupid one either. Do you really think I would have met with you if you were going to kill me as well?”

He cocked his head and looked wistfully at her and pushed an envelope across the table. “Here’s the ten thousand dollars for the consultation. Expensive, but I have it from the highest of sources that you are the best in the business.”

She touched the envelope without opening it and began laughing. “Really, Mr. Anderson. Did you not think I would know you shorted me exactly $1?”

He chuckled and reached into his top jacket pocket and withdrew the crisp one dollar bill he had been holding there. He was now satisfied that he had, indeed, hired the best.

“Is there anything else I can help you with before we go our separate ways, Mr. Anderson?”

“Not at all,” he replied and began to rise from his seat.

She too began to stand up and as she did, she pulled a revolver from under the table and shot Mr. Anderson in the chest two inches to the right of where his heart should, by physical means, be located. As he fell back into his chair, wide-eyed and in pain, all he could ask was, “Why?”

“Simple, Mr. Anderson. $10,000 from you for the consultation and another $40,000 from your wife for your untimely demise. After all, I am not only one of the best seers in the business, I am also one of the best hit women as well.” She then unloaded a neat second shot through his forehead.

She reached into her purse and withdrew a four inch iron spike and then used the end of the revolver to pound it into his chest. “And this should keep me from having to see your face in the spirit world as well. Goodbye, Mr. Anderson, it’s been lovely doing business with you.”

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Published in: on November 13, 2010 at 10:13 pm  Comments (2)  

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2 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. You are a sick, twisted young lady. Kudos. 😉

    Le Swerv…

    • I try to hide it, but sometimes it creeps out. lol! Thanks, Murv!


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