Sunday, April 12, 2015

Laura James Week 145: The Collector (part 6)

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Laura James’s Picture Choice: Both

Title: The Collector - Part 6

"Hector, I can't get through to you Grandparents. When did they leave?"

Hector picked up his old baseball bat and met his father in the hall. "They didn't leave, I lied." He swung the bat with all his strength relishing the way it connected to his father's skull. He watched as the body crumpled to the floor, blood slowly seeping from the hairline and covering the hall carpet.

He dropped the bat next to the body and picked up his father's feet dragging him to the closed bedroom door. Balancing them on his knees he unlocked the door and swung it open, the smell of the trapped animals invading his nostrils. His latest acquisitions started to whimper and thrash in their cages and he dragged his fathers limp body into the room.

"Hector sweetie, everything ok. I heard a thud?" His mother called from the base of the stairs.

"Not really, "he called back, "I think you should come upstairs."

He followed the sound of her footsteps as they made their way up the stairs, pausing at what he knew was the blood pool and resulting drag marks. "What's happened?" Her voice was a mere whisper. "I'm in here mother." He stood at Stephen's bedroom door, "Why don't you come on in, see what I've been up to."

He watched his mother approach him slowly, all happy affectionate thoughts no longer evident on her face as she kept glancing back at the blood on the floor. "Oh my god! What have you done?" She dashed across the room to her husbands side, "David! David! Talk to me!" She shook his shoulders trying to wake him.

"It's okay, mother, just a glancing blow." Hector walked towards her, "He'll be fine," he laughed. "You on the other hand I'm not so sure." Behind his mother he reached down and placed his hands around her neck. "Do you know just how much I hate you? I was always second best to you wasn't I." He squeezed harder. "Stephen was your favourite." His mother was scratching at his hands with her fingers, but it was no use and her hands eventually fell limp at her side. Hector let the body fall next to his father.

He stood looking at his collection and knew that he should be happy. Various animals were trapped and the fear in their eyes filled his heart with joy. Yet something was missing. He had yet to add any birds to his collection. It would be easy to simply go to a pet store and purchase a parrot or similar but now he had the house and garden to himself, he had plenty of time to capture a wild bird. He was looking forward to the challenge.


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Based in Dunfermline, Scotland, Laura is obsessed with all things horror and spends her time writing flash fiction which she hopes, on occasion, really scares her readers. Feel free to stalk her on twitter, @lejamez



  1. Ooo gosh, can't he stop now? So dark and horrific. Perfect horror.

  2. Nasty, nasty piece of work. No stopping him now. . . eeek