Short stories and more

Story 10:

A tree. A kid on the swings. A couple sitting on a bench, kissing. I take pictures of practically everything. I always carry my camera. Photography pays a good bit, and I almost always find somebody who wants or needs a photographer for something. Whether it be a kid's birthday or somebody's wedding. I've seen it all.

Today was no different. Or so I thought. I walk around the park, taking pictures of almost anything and everything. From the leaves and rain soaked benches to the squirrels. A young man approached me, and I smiled at him.

"Are- are you a professional photographer?" the man asks, and I nod. "How would you like a job?" I narrow my eyes at him, thinking it would be the usual birthday party or something boring like that. "What kind?" I ask, curious when I see him shuffle his feet.

"Crime scene photographer." I feel my eyes widen, and I bite my tongue. "For real? Like full time?" The man nods, and I nod, thinking. "When do I start?" I ask, and he actually looks at me. "I'll call you." he says, handing me his phone. I put my number in, and he walks off.

2 weeks later, I get a call. My first crime scene. I was ecstatic, but I tried to not show it. I grab my camera, an SD card, and a hat.

When I get to the crime scene, I meet up with the man, who tells me all the details. I nod, walking inside with him. "God, this is... this is different." I say, looking at the blood splattered on the walls.

I start taking pictures, but not only of the body and the crime scene. I take some pictures of the police officers and detectives when nobody's looking, smirking.

About a week later, everybody I had taken a picture of is dead, and I smile. I spared the man who hired me, because without him I would have no access to the crime scenes.

I kiss my camera, accidently taking a picture of myself. I start choking on my food, and after a minute I knew I was dead. Stupid death camera.