AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (1) Satan's Deeds (Short Stories) It is a suspenseful short story about a middle aged man who has a temper issue. [5,128 words] [Suspense]
Alone In Arizona Jj Grinvalds
Alone
Dave awoke laying face up in the middle of a snow storm. He wasn’t numb from the snow yet, so he knew he must have just arrived where he did. He sat upright and looked around, but saw no traces of anything that would have passed nearby recently. All he could see was black and the dark blue snow reflecting the light of the full moon. It was strange that he was wearing his work uniform, which consisted of jet black dress pants, a white shirt, and a dark blue tie. Stranger still was that he lived no where near a snowy area—he lived in southern Arizona. His cheeks began to lose feeling, and his eyes were watering uncontrollably from the cold. He crawled around in the snow, but made no progress in any direction. He was aching from head to toe, and he was not sure why. Above other pains, his head felt the worst. He raised a hand to his balding head and felt a large bump in the back. He rubbed his injury and tried to regain his last memory when he was distracted by a distant echoing ring. It sounded like a triangle being played. He stopped crawling around and listened for it again. Two seconds had passed, and he heard it again, coming from the same direction.
“Hello!?” he called out, “is anyone out there?”
No answer, except for another identical ring. Then another.
He got up to his knees, and then struggled up to his feet. He brought his left arm in front of his face to block the snow and he began trudging in the direction of the ring. The ringing continued at the same, two second beat, and it grew louder and deeper. Still, he could see nothing but black and blue.
He began thinking of possibilities as to how he got to where he was. His last memory was leaving his workplace and going home to have dinner with his family, just like every Friday night. He remembered that he had pulled into the driveway with his rusty Toyota. He had exited his car and distinctly remembered thanking God for giving him the joy of being alive on such a warm and sunny day. Then he saw his unhappy wife, Janice, standing in the doorway, and cursed God for his severe alcohol addiction. He had come home drunk the night before, and his wife was very angry—angrier than he had ever seen her. He wished that he could control his addiction, but when he got a severe pay cut at work, he knew of no better way to release his stress. He slouched and began shuffling towards her, ready for another lecture. As he did, he noticed something out of the ordinary. There was someone or something behind her, but he didn’t recognize it…
He snapped back into the present and realized his feet were quite numb. He stopped walking and listened for the ring once again, which was slightly louder. He spun in circles, looking for the origin of the ringing. He saw a flickering light in the distance, and he trudged into its direction.
When he got closer, he saw that the flickering light was a lamp outside of a log cabin. Next to the lamp were two large metal batons banging against each other, which would explain the ringing. Knowing he would probably freeze to death in only a couple hours if he did not try and enter, he knocked on the door. He waited for several seconds when the door was slowly opened by a tall man with dark glasses. His hair was dark black and it was slicked back with a large amount of gel. The man did not say anything, but he motioned for him to come inside. The man led him to the warm fire place and offered him some hot chocolate, which he accepted. The man went into the kitchen while Dave leaned closer to the fire to warm himself. He was still shivering quite terribly from the cold and began to look at his surroundings—or lack thereof. The inside of this log cabin was painted a dark red, and the only pieces of furniture were two black leather chairs. Other than that, everything was bare. He heard a noise from the kitchen and focused back on the fire. The mysterious man came back into the room and gave Dave some hot chocolate. The man sat down nearby in a black leather chair.
Shivering, he asked, “W-w-where is this?” sipping the hot chocolate.
“You were brought here,” he replied, crossing his legs and folding his hands together.
“What d-do you mean?
“You are not here by mistake. I was flying you here by helicopter, but because of the snow storm, I lost control and since you were not strapped into your seat, you slipped out. I circled where I lost you, but the snow was so thick I could barely see the ground. I decided it would be best for my purpose if I came to my cabin and tried to reel you in by the bright lamp and the chimes. It obviously worked very well,” he replied in a very monotonous voice.
“Why were you b-bringing me out here? What p-purpose are you talking about?” he asked, realizing that coming into this cabin may have been a very poor decision.
“I was asked to do a job by someone very dear to you,” the man said, very calmly, “I have been asked to dispose of you.”
His jaw dropped at the man’s last sentence. His assumptions were right—he had definitely made a poor decision. Dave rose to his feet and stumbled over himself. He was still too cold to move very fast or with much coordination.
The man did not move from his chair, obviously feeling no threat at all from Dave.
“Yes, I mean to kill you. That is why I have brought you here. I wanted to do it out in the middle of nowhere so that you would not be found.”
Dave began backstepping towards the door. He went as fast as he could without stumbling, and with frozen feet, that really was not fast at all. He did not want to take his eyes off of the man in case he would try to tackle him. “W-who hired you?” Dave asked with a shaky voice. He was only ten feet from the door.
The man paused and grinned. “Oh, why don’t you just think about this for a second.
Nine feet.
“Who would want to cause you harm?”
Eight feet.
Several people instantly came to mind, but none of them he thought would want to kill him.
Seven.
The man continued, asking, “with your addictions, who have you badly hurt recently?”
With only six feet left to the door, Dave stopped back stepping. His legs shook, but not from the cold.
His mind was dominated by a memory. He remembered more of what had happened earlier that day. His wife was in the doorway, and she did not look happy. He couldn’t blame her though—coming home drunk was the thing that ticked her off more than anything else he could do. As he thought about it more, he realized that the person behind his wife was the man rising from his chair only feet away.
His knees turned to rubber and he fell to the ground. His was in a daze and he could not move his legs. His eyes were wide, but his vision was fuzzy, as if he was in a dream. He saw the man reaching under the leather chair and pulling out an axe. Dave did not care, his thoughts had left him and he was empty. The man came towards him and raised the axe. Part of Dave wanted to move, and the other part wanted it all to end right then and there. Dave closed his eyes as the axe came down, that was all his body would allow him to do. A second later his head rolled onto the floor, while the man took out his cell phone and dialed a number.
“Hello? Janice? It’s done. I killed him, darling. He’s out of the way for good. We can finally live our lives. Together.”
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