Sirens (Theo Raeken) [1]

Murder

Eggs. Check.

Milk. Check.

Cereal. Check.

I tick off the last three items of my shopping list.

I steer my trolley to the check out and start offloading my stuff. The grocery store is almost empty at this time so I don't have to wait in line.

The checkout lady looks to be in her fifties and probably hasn't smiled ever. Her features are pulled into a frown, and the lines on her forehead are deep. She scans my items incredibly slow. Is she doing this just to piss me off?

It's cold and I just want to get home. "Sorry, I'm sort of in a rush," I tell her and give her my best smile. "Can you go a little quicker please?"

She looks up and glowers at me but says nothing. Her hands move even slower than before. My grandchildren are going to be dead by the time this is over. She is on the last item as I feel my legs growing weak. I am worried that I might look as old as her by now.

"Cash or card?" she grumbles. I have never met a checkout person as rude as her before.

"Card, please," I say happily. Kill them with kindness, they say.

I swipe my card. She hands me the bags one at a time, very slowly again. I have all my bags in tow and am livid at the lack of a polite, "Have a nice night!" or even a simple goodbye.

I walk to my car, balancing the bags and trying to get my keys out of my pocket. I open the trunk and mentally thank my mom for buying me a car with so much trunk space. I drop the bags down in the back-seven in total.

I hop in the driver's side of my Volkswagen and turn on the ignition. The night is dark and cloudy, but there are no other cars on the road so I risk going way over the speed limit. I check how much gas I have left. The hand on the meter is nearing empty. I decide to pull over at the next gas station which is probably a few minutes away.

I wonder where everyone has gone tonight, because when I pull up at the station, there are no other cars. I get out and am met with cold air that meets my face with a frozen kiss. I probably should have worn a shirt with a higher neckline as well; my chest is freezing.

I fill the tank up to the top and plug the gas hose back in. I lock up the car and walk to the warm store.

The guy at the checkout is a tall, gangly teenager with eyes that seem to pop out of his head. I throw a chocolate bar on the counter as well to eat when I get home.

The guy's eyes aren't on his checkout or on the card in my hands, but instead he is leering at my boobs. Pervert.

I am already pissed at the previous checkout person, and this one is even worse. "Cash or card?" he says to my chest.

I am brimming with anger. "My eyes are up here, you know," I say to him.

He awkwardly leans over the register. "My shift ends in five minutes..."

I am about to jump over the counter and swat him one. "Can I just please pay?" I snarl.

"Come on, sweethe-"

"I said I want to pay!" I scream. My voice takes on a weird dreamy tone to it, like it's being spoken through water. My words have an underlying growl to them.

Something red starts dripping from his eyes and then his nose. Finally, a long waterfall of thick, red blood oozes from between his fat lips. I scream, but there is no one to hear me.

The guy drops with a thud behind the counter. I climb over the counter. The guy is on the floor and there's blood everywhere, seeping underneath the counter, soaking through his work uniform.