Behind Closed Doors

Submitted into Contest #215 in response to: Write a story about someone making a deal with the devil.... view prompt

33 comments

Fiction Horror Thriller

This story contains sensitive content

TW: Language, sexual violence, child suffering, suicide, all things horrific.


“Have you seen this boy?” The woman behind the chained door shook her head at the creased photograph.


“He’s six here," Anna urged, "but he's closer to eight now.”


“Ain't seen him. Sorry. Truly I am,” The woman hung her head closing the door.


Anna had almost gotten used to it, the slamming doors, the constant barrage of no’s, dejected looks momentarily sharing her horror, then straight back to daily life with the squeak of a hinge and the click of a lock. That's just what normal people do. Life goes on, for most. Times she wished she could close the door on it, say goodbye, give up. But what kind of mother would that make her?


Sliding the photo into her inside jacket pocket she pressed it to her chest, where he belonged. 


Men huddled on the apartment steps, threw dice and glared at her as she left. Women shouting from sash windows at kids playing on the street shook their heads at the sight of her. Sorrow? Pity? Repulsion? She didn't know nor care. By reputation alone most everyone in Hartsville knew her, or of her. She'd become as much a lost soul as little Jimmy, except no one hunted for her. Not anymore. 


Released without substantial evidence is how the lawyers explained it. Not innocent. Not guilty. Somewhere in between and cast into the worst court of them all, the public. Half the town, and all her family, blamed her for Jimmy’s disappearance, and half again thought she murdered him. Some things just don't rub out after printing. 


Drawing deep from a cigarette, she leaned against the rust bucket she called a car, and home, its windows crowded with the few possessions her former husband allowed her to have. Gazing up and down the street she considered how much longer she could do this, how many more shoes could she wear through, how many-


“Hey you.” 


Anna turned, searching for the smooth voice. A tall figure lurked in the alleyway opposite, features hidden by the descending sun, intentions none the plainer. Cocking an eyebrow she pointed to her chest.


“Yeah you, come here.” Waving her over, he disappeared into the poster tattered passage.


Discarding the cigarette she made a show of tucking her four day fresh white tank top into her equally dirty jeans. In reality she ran a hand under her cargo jacket, making sure the snub nose would be easy to pull. Only a fool came into The Devils Basement as the locals called it, unready, unprotected, or more worrying, unwilling to do what might be needed to be done.


Steadying her breathing, she edged between the cars, and made for the mystery man. 


Standing at the other end now, one foot on the crumbling red brickwork, arms folded, eyes closed, his head tilted to the gathering clouds. 


“What do you want?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips.


“Not me,” he didn't open his eyes.


“Well who?”


“Boss man.”


“Should that mean something to me?”


“Maybe.”


“It doesn't, now what's this about?”


“He needs a job doing, says you’re the woman for it ”


“Sorry, don’t do job interviews in back alleyways.” She turned, throwing a dismissive wave over her shoulder.


“Here now woman, before you go, he wants you to have this,” he extended a closed fist, finally opening his eyes. She stepped back, squinting in disbelief at his yellow stare blazing like the mid summer sun.


Nonetheless, curiosity sunk its teeth into her, “What's that?”


“A gift. If you like, more be waiting after a ride in that car down there.” Nodding toward the perpendicular laneway, Anna leaned out all cautious like to spot a rumbling estate wagon.


“Who’s in that? And where would it take me?”


“Trust me woman, you ain't going to care after you see this,” he waggled his fist.


She extended a shaking palm, his fingers unfurled, her heart stopped. Then hammered, temple thumping loud. Impossible. Stomach knotting, hairs spiked the length of her neck. How? Dizziness overcame her, faint, happy, angry. It was all too much. Tears welled as she lifted that tiny yellow watch. The one with the cracked Power Ranger face Jimmy flipped open and shut when he got nervous. Terrified of the answer, yet hoping it to be true, she turned it over. J.C engraved on its back. Jimmy Crawford. Her Jimmy. 


She took off before her reeling mind could catch up, and within seconds flung open the car door. She knew the kind of mother she was. Relentless.


***


The bag over her head didn't scare her, nor the machete wielding woman next to her, not even the fact they’d been driving for at least an hour now. No, what scared her was herself. She just jumped without thinking. Anyone could have faked that watch, it was common knowledge he wore one the day he disappeared, but not the engraving Jimmy did with a nail. Or was it? She wracked her memory…


The car slowed to a stop, another stop sign, traffic, the cops?


With a mechanical click the doors unlocked, swung open, and someone seized her elbow, “Let’s go woman.” 


Her bated breath gathered like dew under her nose, stones crunched under foot, then a hinge complained as what sounded like a heavy metal door groaned open. “There's steps here.”


“Wouldn't it be easier to take this thing off,” Anna asked, trying to add a little unfelt humour to her voice.


A sharp jab between her shoulders was the only reply. She didn't ask any more questions, humourous or not.


The descent stretched impossibly long, like the moment you see a child falling but are too slow to react. With each step the heat grew inferno hot, sweat matted her hair, dampened her top, stung her eyes. Where were they taking her? What did they want? 


Another door opened, the stench of sweat and sewage hitting her harder than a bat. Then music, laughter, glasses clinking. Prodded onwards, silence fell in her wake. Pushed into a chair she grunted, canvas bag whipped from her head, she panted the stale air.


The room flickered, tiny flames dancing behind red glass scattered across a discord of tables. Everything blurred as if staring through a heat wave. Licking her lips, she tried making sense of the shapes. Like a head swelling adrenaline rush, everything stopped swaying and came rushing into sobering focus.


Hunched over a curved counter, a man fished juicy maggots from a writhing jar then dropped them slurping into his toothless mouth. Two skeletal thin women wearing nothing but dog collars curled at the feet of an obese man rubbing goose fat through his hair. Young men howled at a geriatric pole dancer whilst an amputee burn victim served curdled milk. All the while a man on a small stage played dirty blues on a gore splattered guitar, face a snarled rictus, fingers bloody stumps. Vomit climbing her throat, blood draining from her face, she gripped the round table as a drowning man may grip driftwood. 


"Jesus Christ!"


"Not quite." She spun to the chocolate rich voiced stranger opposite. He wore a smoldering cigar on thin lips, a sneer in his ember eyes, yellowish smoke drifting from flared nostrils.


"You this Boss man?"


He nodded.


Courage boiled from the gun in her waistband, "Where's my boy!"


"Around," he waved a hand festooned with many rings across the debauchery on display. "You'll see him when the time's right, when the deal is done." He leaned from the shadows, elbows making the table creak. 


"Prove it. Prove he's here."


Yellow Eyes dropped a tattered ball of fabric into Boss man waiting palm, then he threw it at Anna. Unrolling that faded superman t-shirt her chin trembled. Jimmy's t-shirt. What happened to him? Did these people hurt him?


She swallowed her fear and the urge to run, Jimmy was here. After two years she finally found something, something more terrifying than these foul bastards, hope. 


"What do you want? Where did you get this?" she cuddled the disintegrating garment.


"No small talk?"


She held his burning gaze.


"Fair enough. He was wearing it when we found him."


"Where?"


"Not far, right under your nose actually. A neighbour."


"A fucking what!" She leapt up, anger hammering her chest.


He held out his hands, "Calm Anna, I'm here to help Anna,"


"Help? Why?"


"Let's say I've a soft spot for the innocent and outcast," He gestured to sit, she complied. "Although it's not the only reason, you see I provide a service to our little community of Hartville and you, well you are two birds one stone. Wouldn't it be nice to stop running, get the vengeance you deserve."


"Vengeance? I just want my son, please…" her voice broke, unstoppable tears falling .


"You'll want revenge," Boss man studied his nails without a care in the world. "A local woman came to me, told me of a man, a terrible man, patrolling the local parks and schools, said he was offering sweets and toys to her nieces to get into his van. Smart girls ran away. The police however did little, the law is weak that way." He paused, puffed his cigar and blew smoke into Anna's face.


"So I sent some of my hounds," he nodded to Yellow Eyes and Machete, "to rain some hell on this pervert. Thing is, it was clear that his house, his deviate prison, was being used by more than just him. A ring as they say. We searched the premises, found poor Jimmy chained to a bed frame in the basement with two others, little more than malnourished sex dolls." Anna's stomach turned, terror and anger searing her insides. She wanted to hurt someone. Anyone.


"A little torture goes a long way Anna, remove a little flesh and tada, the pervert gave up the names of his accomplices. Would you like to know who they are?"


Jaw clenched she hissed the word, "Who?"


"I'll give you three names, you do what needs to be done, you'll see your boy again. We have a deal?"


"How will I get back here, I don't know–"


"Levi will go with you," Yellow's eyes winked at her. "So is that a yes?"


No sooner had she agreed than that damn canvas bag was pulled over her head once more.


***


Anna dove into the station wagon's back seat, ears ringing, heart thumping, throat choked with the metallic aftertaste of gunpowder. Levi smiled between the seats, “Damn Miss Crawford, you a cold bitch, no hesitation, he opens the door and you–”


“Just fucking drive already!” Anna barked, balling the cuff of her jacket and rubbing at the crimson mottling her face.


“Ha, ok, you the boss tonight.” 


Anna stared out the rear window at the tree lined street and white picket fences speeding by, concerned neighbours stumbling into the road to investigate the woman wailing over her husband's body at forty six Broken Ridge Avenue. Little did they know the service Anna just did for them. Eradicated suburban filth. First of three. 


She rested the revolver on her knee, somehow it felt lighter, as if that one bullet carried away the weight of her suffering, her loss. But he wasn't lost, he was waiting for her. Something unexpected curled the edge of her lip.


“You smiling Miss Crawford?” Levi asked into the rearview mirror. “You are! Cold bitch, you're going to fit real nice.”


She shook her head, dismissing both comment and grin. “Who’s next?”


“Edward…


***


“...Calhoun.” Anna repeated the name, tracking her finger down the apartment buzzer's name plates. “There you are.” 


Two short buzz's, a click, a cough, then, “Hello, who's there?”


“Mr Calhoun, sorry to disturb you,” she already picked a name from those displayed, “this is Jessica Longsteen I've lost my key, again, and you were the first to—”


“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” The electrical hum of the magnetic release sent a chill down her spine, not fear, but anticipation. One step closer to Jimmy.


Four flights of stairs, one long worn carpeted hallway and she stood outside his peeling door. Patiently she waited for a latino couple to get on the elevator, then knocked, placing a hand over the spyglass. Floor boards groaned from within, a chain rattled, a bolt slid, and she found herself staring at a stout unshaven man in his fifties wearing a blue telecom’s shirt.


“What can I do for you missy?”


“This is for Jimmy!”


His eyes stretched fearful wide, at the name, the crazed redhead at his door, or the gun inches from his face, it didn't matter. Pull, click, bang. His last thoughts sprayed over the cracked plaster inside, his body collapsing as though its bones turned to mud. 


For a second she watched him, hopeless, pathetic, no longer a danger. She breathed deep. One to go.


***


“Miss Crawford, yo, Anna, Anna!”


Startling awake she grabbed Levi’s poking hand, blinked into focus then looked about. She lay in the back of the car, a cul-de-sac of two storey houses loomed outside, quiet with barely a light on, the moon hanging low shimmering off their slate roofs. Anna stretched, cracked her neck, then shook her face. 


“How long were we driving, I can't believe I fell asleep.”


“It's the adrenaline, big come down, happens all the time. I took the long way here, had to avoid prying eyes, that last one definitely got some flashing light attention. But this is it here Miss Crawford.” Levi pointed out the side window, to a silhouetted figured light by the glow of a computer screen typing into the small hours.


Anna sucked her teeth, sniffed, pulled the lapels of her jacket, then checked her gun. Dirty bastard was probably on some chat site, pretending to be a teen girl or some other filth.


“You ready?”


“And willing,” Anna answered, shuffling and gently closing the door. She caught sight of her reflection, frazzled and blood specked, and an idea fizzled into being.


She grabbed her arm, dragged her leg and hobbled towards the downstairs window. It didn't take long for him to spot her. Taking off his glasses he twitched the curtains.


“Mister, please,” she whimpered, “I went off the road round the corner, I..I need…”


Holding up a hand, he dashed from the room, a porch light sparked to life and the front door opened.


“You ok Lady, what the hell—”


He spun roaring as the bullet tore through his shoulder. He tried dragging himself back across the perfectly manicured lawn, but it was useless. The hammer fell, back of the head, he jerked, spasmed, fell still. It was done.


She smiled running back to the car, she could already feel Jimmy in her arms. Her sweet innocent little Jimmy. 


***


The macabre cabaret garnered no interest this time around, and she stared straight at Boss Man when the canvas bag was removed.


"My boy," she said, not a request, placing the revolver on the table before her.


He smiled, swirled a glass of red wine, drank, then nodded to no one in particular. 


Eternity stretched out before her, biting her lip, fingers drumming the scarred tabletop, she couldn't quite believe it. She'd finally found him.


Two great bulking neckless forms lumbered from the shadows, a metal box held between them. It thudded onto the table before her. Boss Man grinned tapping its top.


Giggles simmered behind her as she lifted the lid with trembling hands. Tears exploded, lip quivering, shoulders shaking. There was no mistaking it, those cheekbones, large hollow eyes, even the skin dried and rippled as it was. She touched his forehead, sweeping away a dirty blonde fringe and kissed him.


She pulled his cracking and snapping corpse into her arms, his jaw swinging open in one last horrific scream. Falling to her knees she pressed him close to her chest, where he belonged.


"Why? Why didn't you tell me?" she spluttered between sobs.


"I said you'd see him again, here you go." Laughter rose like hyenas on the hunt, the unwashed bodies pressing coffin close around her.


"It's ok honey," she whispered to her son, rocking back and forth. "I got the bastards, I got them–"


"Two of them anyway," Boss man sneered.


"What?"


"I said there were accomplices, I didn't say all three were. You humans are so eager to jump to your worst instincts."


"Oh dear god, oh god–"


"He can't help you Anna, we have a long standing arrangement," he finished the wine with a lip smack.


"Why are you doing this to me? You're monsters, all of you!"


Boss man leaned forward, "Didn't I say I've a soft spot for the innocent, poor Jimmy suffered because of you, you're the monster who left her six year old son alone in the park whilst you scored some smack!"


She wailed, "I'm clean now, I'm…" It seemed pointless to try to explain, it wasn't going to bring him back.


"What the fuck are you?" she roared.


"You know already, you've always known. And now you're mine, forevermore."


To a cacophony of laughter she lowered Jimmy's remains back into the metal box, slowly closed the squeaking hinge, said goodbye, and gave up.


Her finger wrapped around the trigger, the barrel cold beneath her chin. Perhaps in death she could be a better kind of mother.


"See you soon son."


***



September 15, 2023 11:00

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.

33 comments

Shannon C.
18:49 Nov 02, 2023

Loved this! It was a pretty dark one for sure, I thought it was very well written and you wrapped it up perfectly.

Reply

Kevin Logue
19:17 Nov 02, 2023

Thanks Shannon. I was definitely leaning into the dark side of things. Was pleased with how this story turned out and the general feedback. Glad you enjoyed it.

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Marty B
21:30 Sep 25, 2023

Too dark for my tastes- Which means you did a good job with your explicit descriptions! The true horror is what this woman was driven to do, without too much thought other than the logistics 'how will I get back' - to go past all bounds of her own morals- for just the chance to get her son back.

Reply

Kevin Logue
07:03 Sep 26, 2023

Thanks for reading and commenting Marty. A lot darker than what I would usually do, easily the darkest thing I ever written, but I figured the prompt was under the dark category so assumed that's what the judges wanted ha. Never assume is what my Engineering lecturer used to tell me, one day maybe the lesson will stick. Yes the length she will go to is the real horror, wanted to blend the supernatural with real world horrors all wrapped up in that parental need to protect. Cheers again, much appreciated.

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Hannah Lynn
14:37 Sep 21, 2023

You had me hooked from the beginning with that poor woman trying to find her son. So imaginative and detailed, I felt like I was along for the ride.

Reply

Kevin Logue
15:10 Sep 21, 2023

Glad you enjoyed 😊

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Karen Corr
14:24 Sep 21, 2023

A great “bargain with the devil” story. Vivid imagery. I particularly loved Levi’s accent. Good writing.

Reply

Kevin Logue
15:11 Sep 21, 2023

Thanks very much Karen, and for mentioning Levi's accent, I wasn't sure if it came through or not.

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Robert Egan
22:38 Sep 20, 2023

Thoroughly enjoyed your story and writing style, Kevin! I especially liked the impossible grotesquerie of the Boss Man's lair: "...whilst an amputee burn victim served curdled milk. All the while a man on a small stage played dirty blues on a gore splattered guitar, face a snarled rictus, fingers bloody stumps." I was already thinking "stumps" with the amputee (and wondering which limbs were missing/imagining how that curdled milk was being served), so I felt like the guitar player's mangled fingers were right in my face when you moved t...

Reply

Kevin Logue
06:22 Sep 21, 2023

Thanks Robert for the feedback, always good to hear it resonates with other writers. You are right too on that opening line, that really should have trigged for me considering I read it twenty plus times ha. A simple bash on the return key would have fixed that issue!

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Marty Logue
16:08 Sep 20, 2023

I'm always been drawn to stories of a darker nature..and this didn't disappoint. Excellent. More of these please.

Reply

Show 0 replies
Howard Halsall
02:30 Sep 19, 2023

Hey Kevin, That’s a gruesome story to be sure. I enjoyed the rising tension and final release. The 2 out of 3 idea was a superb notion; the deal that was too good to be true - a lesson in life (& death too), indeed. The entire tale well-conceived and executed (no pun intended) with calculated precision, well-written throughout and full of detailed descriptions. I particularly liked the encounter with the boss man in hell… “Hunched over a curved counter, a man fished juicy maggots from a writhing jar then dropped them slurping into his toothl...

Reply

Kevin Logue
06:53 Sep 19, 2023

Thanks very much for your encouraging feedback and catching that typo, at times it's enraging how they slip through. This was easily the darkest thing I've penned, I've never tried horror but it was surprisingly enjoyable to venture down that shadowy path. Cheers again for reading and commenting, it's much appreciated.

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Mike Panasitti
20:15 Sep 18, 2023

A page turner, if there were pages to turn. But to be more accurate, the suspense increased the further down I scrolled. I'm trying to wean myself from dark prose, but this was well worth the read. Great take on the prompt.

Reply

Kevin Logue
20:16 Sep 18, 2023

Thanks very much Mike for reading and leaving such wonderful feedback. Honoured to be the exception 😊

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
17:08 Sep 18, 2023

Excellent story thoroughly enjoyed the darkness and depravity of it all, through the eyes of a suffering mother.... who may or may not be innocent

Reply

Kevin Logue
17:33 Sep 18, 2023

Cheers! That's the thing, her innocence is in the court of public opinion now 🤔

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Michał Przywara
00:02 Sep 18, 2023

Very dark indeed, and that two-out-of-three twist - damn! Brutal. Very fitting, of course. Some great lines too, like "His last thoughts sprayed over the cracked plaster inside". Art from the macabre. We understand why Anna did what she did. Guilt and misery, and even a tiny bit of hope, can drive people to anything. Taking advantage of that for nefarious purposes, suitably fiendish. But the drugs are a nice touch too, since it means her hands weren't clean. So there's tragedy here, tragedy beyond what happened to the child. If she was th...

Reply

Kevin Logue
06:50 Sep 18, 2023

Cheers Michal. I'd say this was the darkest thing I've ever written, really wanted to layer the monstrosities so appreciate the feedback. That's one of my favourite lines too, and like all good lines I typed it before I thought about it ha.

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Chris Miller
00:26 Sep 17, 2023

Noirish start followed by macabre body horror. It was pretty dark, but that kept it engaging. Horrific, but then a deal with Old Scratch would be, wouldn't it? Maybe she never kicked the drugs. "...reign some hell..." rain?

Reply

Kevin Logue
02:04 Sep 17, 2023

Cheers for the feedback Chris, I hadn't considered the noir aspect but it really does have that gumshoe approach, missing kid, unreliable narrator etc. Thanks for the pick up, I wrote rain to begin with and then doubted myself, English and it's many similar words always makes a fool of me ha!

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
14:52 Sep 16, 2023

Great writing Kevin! Lots of gut wrenching emotion in your descriptions. Works really well, and the plot goes to all the right places. Lots of tension that kept me reading every line until the end. Paragraph like this one are great. "She extended a shaking palm, his fingers unfurled, her heart stopped. Then hammered, temple thumping loud. Impossible. Stomach knotting, hairs spiked the length of her neck. How? Dizziness overcame her, faint, happy, angry. It was all too much. Tears welled ..." For edits, these lines could use some small twea...

Reply

Kevin Logue
16:04 Sep 16, 2023

Cheers Scoot glad it kept you till the end, and thanks for the edits I'll get a look at them now. The dice throwing, and looks, line was implying that they were throwing her dirty looks. Maybe it's a colloquialism, but I'll revise it all the same.

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
AnneMarie Miles
13:34 Sep 16, 2023

Oh my goodness - this is so sad, dark, and macabre! She doesn't even get her little Jimmy back 😭 Sad, but this ending is suiting. You never get what you really want with the Devil, right? The writing is really wonderful. So many great descriptions, specifically with the horrific scene at the night club/bar. Creepy stuff, but only because you painted the picture so well. As a mother, I really related to her relentlessness. No one wants to admit it, but you will do horrible things without questions if someone hurts your child, especially i...

Reply

Kevin Logue
13:43 Sep 16, 2023

Thank you so much for such wonderful feedback. As someone new to fatherhood I see a lot of this coming through in my work, the fact I would do anything to protect her and fear what lengths that would go to if someone actually hurt her. Even typing that is making my jaw clench, ha. Appreciate the description comment, at times to shy away from descriptions as I think, at times they can hinder what is important to the narrative but it was necessary for this, and the club scene in particular. Good catch on the typo, thanks, will fix now.

Reply

AnneMarie Miles
14:28 Sep 16, 2023

Congratulations on fatherhood! Parenthood changes everything, and I find it being the one thing that always breaks into my stories now. Not surprised it's finding a way into yours, too. I agree about the descriptions. I've been intentionally working on refining my work, saying more with less, but there is certainly pieces that are elevated with more descriptions, and it definitely benefited this piece.

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Show 1 reply
Nina H
11:17 Sep 16, 2023

Horribly wonderful story, Kevin 😲 the way it flows is great, grabbing attention from the start and sending you on a heart-racing trip of suspense with the MC. She alluded to the kind of mother she was, her reputation, at the start and I assumed it was because her son went missing and everyone judged. The ending was such a surprise reveal about it all! I really enjoyed this, very well done!!! I’m a little concerned about myself though because my favorite line from it is: “His last thoughts sprayed over the cracked plaster inside, his body ...

Reply

Kevin Logue
11:40 Sep 16, 2023

That's made me very happy Nina, cause that's my favourite line too! Glad to hear the flow and suspense works, it's strange when rereading, and rereading, these things that it, as writers, wears off and I end up doubting if there is any there in the first place. This is why feedback is crucial! Really appreciate you reading and commenting. And good luck to you too!

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Ken Cartisano
04:47 Sep 16, 2023

Kevin baby, Damn. I loved it, horrible as it was. The writing is earthy and powerful. It's a gut-wrenching topic, so some might think that that's what's striking a chord, but in my opinion, your writing is the event, the story is the date of the holiday. If it's too hard to figure out, it's a compliment. Trust me. I mean, considering who the mc is dealing with, (somewhat untrustworthy 'people' ? ex-people? Demonic, sick-assed mo-fo's? Whatevah.) I guessed a good portion of the outcome. But your writing makes even a bad trip worthwhile. I ...

Reply

Kevin Logue
06:08 Sep 16, 2023

Cheers Ken, for the edits, pick ups and ego boosting comments. Usually the wife reads my stories before posting to catch those sort of things but can't you tell she didn't yesterday ha. See what you meant about that canvas bag line, changed it and just made the yellow eyes defined and not doubtful. The ember eyes with Boss man/Demon/Satan with trying to imply fiery embers but now that I've used eye colours for two character descriptions I can see the problem. I will get a run through and fix that up once the weans are sorted ha! I hadn't...

Reply

Ken Cartisano
18:00 Sep 17, 2023

Kev, it' sKen, I believe you did blur the line, I didn't mention that in my prior comments, but your description of the place she went to started out hard-core realistic, and then, it got so weird, it seemed hard to reconcile your descriptions of the scene with what is possible. But it has to be surreal because what 'chocolate voice' is after it seems, in the end, is simply her soul. But it's all too real because she can, and does take her own life. I noticed too, that you ran right up to the word limit. I did a word count on it and was a...

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply
Show 1 reply
Lily Finch
20:26 Sep 15, 2023

Kevin, this is deep. Could be a psychological thriller. The ending was a good reveal. Learning how the son was lost to the mother in the park explains how she felt so sick at the end. And ready for death. Well done. LF6

Reply

Kevin Logue
21:20 Sep 15, 2023

Thanks very much Lily, was hoping it would be so I am very pleased with your feedback. Appreciate you reading.

Reply

Show 0 replies
Show 1 reply