In Cold Blood [Teaser]

In Cold Blood

by
J. Louis Bane

In cold blood. It seemed like such an odd phrase. In cold blood. Sara Hunt stood there, enveloped in a queer lingering silence, and contemplated the phrase. For now, it was all she could think of. It was that phrase, and that phrase alone that kept her tethered to reality as it played on a loop, running continually through her mind.
         She even imagined she could hear the crackle of the needle skipping upon the record as the phrase began anew, cycling through her fragile consciousness. In cold blood, in cold blood, in cold blood. . . .
         She looked down at the crimson gore that coated her hands. It was blood. Not hers, but his.
         Up to this point she hadn’t actually acknowledged the body slumped over the kitchen table. The broken coffee mug, the blood draining into the cereal milk. She could not see beyond the red of her hands. She could not see the splatter of blood that arched across the refrigerator door or the rapidly spreading pool that cascaded from the edge of the heavy oak table, rolling over to the floor in a macabre waterfall. Except that it wasn’t water at all.

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