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Katie’s Crisis

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We’d only been in our new apartment two days when next-door neighbors Doug and Jeanie Myers arrived bearing a plate of goodies. I wanted to kill them right off, but my wife gave me the “no” signal. So we had coffee and stale cookies and listened to mind-numbing gossip.


After they’d left, I asked Katie about her reluctant attitude.

“I know they’re horrible, but I’m tired of moving every few months, changing my hair color, my name, all of it.”

“But killing assholes like them is what we do, honey.”

“I know, but we could do other things. I used be a waitress. I could do that again.”

I hugged my wife, the love of my life, but I had to admit I was starting to worry about her attitude.

Two months went by without a kill and I was a ball of raw nerves. I knew Katie was too. If she was subduing her passions, it didn’t mean I had to. I decided to go hunting by myself that night. I told Katie I was going out with friends and not to wait up.

I decided to work a neighborhood not far from our new apartment. Who knows? Maybe I’d catch the Myer’s out for an evening stroll. I walked around a corner and sensed a presence behind me, but before I could react, a knife blade punctured my back, then three more quick stabs. I twisted around and fell face up. The figure standing over me suddenly knelt by my side.

“Oh my god,” whispered Katie.

I smiled. “There’s my girl.”


Credits to: minnboy

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