5 of 211

Write now Article Tools

The hand that held the knife was firm. There was no wavering, this was simple. This was murder. Anthony Salvo plunged the knife into the lifeless body three or four more times and each time he did so with more and more intensity. His orders had been completed, the family had been served and Anthony Salvo can get himself home.

It was three in the morning. A priest had been dragged out of his rectory and savagely beaten and stabbed by a hit man with no emotion. The priest, in his simple sleeping gown, never stood a chance. Anthony crept into the rectory, grabbed the man by his throat and dragged him into the bathroom adjacent to the rectory bedroom. Here, the good father took each and every blow delivered to him and silently he prayed to a God that never responded. When Anthony removed the small silver knife from his belt, the priest knew his ticket to heaven had been stamped and his destiny sealed by a contracted killer. Even the children of God make mistakes and this one was paid for with his life.

Anthony stepped away from the body, turned and left the rectory. As he made his way to the street, he dropped his knife into a sewer grate outside the building where he had just committed the vicious murder. As Anthony walked to the train station, the silence in the air gave him a feeling of redemption. It wasn't quite always this easy. Sometimes he'd been called upon in the middle of the day and the boss demanded that the blood be shed immediately. It's hard to remain inconspicuous when you're stabbing someone in broad daylight. No, tonight was much easier, and Anthony was relieved about this. As he climbed the stairs to the platform, Anthony wiped his palms on his black sweater, and buttoned his coat around himself. He knew it'd be easier to sleep tonight if no one stared at him on the long train ride home.

When the train pulled up, Anthony stepped into the empty car, found a seat and sat down. He leaned his head against the dirty train window and rubbed his eyes, to try and relieve the exhaustion from them. He always made the same pilgrimage home, the same rite of passage that he makes every time the boss called. The train rumbled through a tunnel, the interior lights blacked out for a few seconds, and when they came back on Anthony snapped out of a slight doze. The train car looked different. The lights had a bluish hue to them, and the speed at which it traveled seemed to have doubled. Anthony stood up and looked around the train, and wondered why everything

• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• next page >>

Add your voice

Know something about Short stories: Tales of horror?
We want to hear your view. Write now!