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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #2296132
A woman notices that she has a stalker.

She drove one of those new Minis made in Germany. Almost as cute as the old Minis but not as much fun to drive. Although the cuteness was important to her, she was aware that it was different from the original.

Her fiftieth birthday was approaching, yet she still managed to appear a decade younger. Slender and always dressed in the current fashion, she was still single.

And now she was being followed.

It had been happening for days. The car was a nondescript, grey Peugeot, only remarkable for a slightly lighter front wing. She watched it in the mirror and took a circuitous route to the supermarket.

Its driver knew his stuff, dropping back sometimes and often disappearing in the traffic. He parked some distance from her when she reached the car park. She left her car and waited inside the supermarket entrance. Her stalker stayed in the Peugeot.
She bought the few items that had spurred this visit and then returned to the Mini. He tailed her until she arrived home. He drove past her parked car and around the next corner. Probably driving around the block to where he could see the house but remain hidden, she figured.

Once inside the house, she dropped the groceries on the kitchen counter and went to where the gun was hidden. She loaded a cartridge and chambered the first round. Checked to see the safety catch was on and threw the gun into her handbag.

Leaving the house, a quick scan with a sideways glance found the Peugeot in the shade of an old oak. She entered her car and drove away. As she turned the corner, the grey car moved off.

It was a short trip to the home of her friend, Amanda. She parked in front of it and entered the fenced garden by the gate. Ignoring the house, she hurried through to the entrance to the back alley. Once there, she walked around the block to come up behind the grey Peugeot. Staying out of view of the man’s rear view mirror, she made her way up to the car. She took the gun out of her bag.

His window was open and he was smoking a cigarette. She stepped quickly along the side of the car and pressed the gun into the side of his head.

“Why are you following me?” she said.

The man froze, cigarette on the way to his lips. He said nothing.

Then he moved, hand groping for the glove compartment.

She squeezed the trigger and the man was thrown sideways from his seat. The interior was splattered with blood and gore. But, impossibly, he was struggling to rise.

She shot him again but again he seemed to recover quickly. Three more times the shots rang out before he remained still. The inside of the car was red with his blood and bits of bone and brain.

All was still as she turned away to retrace her steps to the Mini.

Word count: 500
For Horror Writing Contest, May 2023
Prompt: Just make it a scary story that fulfils the word count (500).
Note: The fact that two entries are allowed gave me the idea to write two stories, one from the point of view of each of the protagonists. My intent is that both can stand alone but, when both are read together, an extra layer is revealed.

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