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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/824608-Trespass
by Phil
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #824608
A man sees a trespasser on his property, and deals with her in his own way.
         Carl peered out the crack between the curtains, and saw her. She was out there again. She knew better than to set foot on his property, but she had done it again anyway. The first time he had simply run out in a blind rage, meaning to kill her on the spot. She was quick though, much quicker than he, and she had escaped. She had fled through the trees, barely making a sound as she went. This time it would be different though, this time he would take her by surprise.

         She was not the first, and Carl suspected that she would not be the last. It was as if they knew he did not want them there, and they came anyway. Carl knew they had no right to be there. It was he, who owned the property, and he, who paid the taxes on it.

         He had taken his last one just four short days ago, and if he walked to the East end of his property he could smell the decay strongly now. This one had come from the North, and hadn’t seen the body of her predecessor. Why had she come back though, he wondered, they almost always come back if I don’t get them the first time. They should be smarter than that.

         Carl was not an intelligent man, he was in fact ‘behind’. He knew he was ‘behind’ because his Mother had told him when he was just a boy. “You are not retarded Carl, you are just ‘behind’. Never mind what the other boys say, it is they, who are retarded”. Carl thought that perhaps this trespasser was ‘behind’. Why else would she come back, he wondered. He felt a moment of superiority, thinking that she must be further ‘behind’ than he was, or she would have figured that out.

         He saw movement, and noticed she was heading toward the house TOWARD THE HOUSE!!. Was she crazy? He wondered. She had a little sashay to her walk that he found especially annoying. She was heading straight for the front door, and Carl knew that if he went out the back, he could corner her on the front porch. He slipped silently out the back door, taking extra care with the creaky door. He remembered to skip the second step to avoid the familiar squeal of dry wood against loose nail. He always meant to remove that nail, and replace it with a screw, but somehow he never quite got around to it.

         He peered around the front corner of the house and caught just a glimpse of her as she stepped onto the porch. He had her now, the only way out was the way she went in, and that would soon be blocked. Carl crept toward the front steps, being careful not to make a sound. He took the last step quickly, and covered any hope of escape.

         She heard his final step and whirled around to see what had caused the disturbance. When she saw him she froze for a moment, unsure of her next move. This was a critical mistake, for this is when he pounced. She made a futile effort to dart to the left, but Carl was ready, his hands shot in that direction and cut off her retreat. His hands closed around her throat with a viselike grip.

         She felt his grip tighten around her neck, and she knew that any attempt at escape would be futile, but she had to try. She kicked, she scratched, and she bit, but he refused to loosen his grip. Her thoughts were getting fuzzy, and she felt herself slipping out of consciousness. Fear was replaced with resignation, and she simply gave up. When Carl felt her struggles subside, he gave a final violent squeeze. He heard a crunch, and a pop, and then she went limp. He was satisfied; he knew she would trespass on his property no more.

         Carl was hungry, and decided to get a bite to eat before he took her body out to lay it beside the other one on the East end of the property. He slid a loaf of bread off the counter and untwisted the wire tie. He noticed that he had some of her hair on his left hand, and immediately felt nauseous. Maybe he wasn’t so hungry after all. He decided he might as well just get this over with.

         He stepped out onto the front porch, and looked down at the body. He didn’t feel anything for her, no sympathy, not even the rage he had felt earlier. Well, done is done, he thought, and he reached down and picked her up by the tail, and headed for the East end of the property. Carl had never liked cats, and as long as they kept coming, he would keep taking care of them. He was becoming pretty certain that cats were more ‘behind’ than he was.
© Copyright 2004 Phil (philmiller at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/824608-Trespass