I loved her, even if she never knew my name. She was my Ariel, and I know I am her Eric.
No matter what she says.
#1 in short story on 02/07/18
This beautiful cover was a gift from @Kmbell92! If you somehow haven't yet, please check her out!
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Today was the day.
That is what I told myself as I grabbed the knife from my kitchen drawer. The spa I recommended was perfect for kidnapping, with its non-existent reputation, large parking lot, and it was on the outskirts of a small town, not far yet not too close to Fargo.
But, there was one downfall.
It was hella expensive, and the service was great. I wasn't lying when I said my mother went there often, she loved how the girls pampered her. She said herself that it was as if she was a queen, and they were her lowly slaves. What better place for my jewel to be polished?
I opened the cellar door, and made my way inside. It had only been around maybe seventeen hours since Attina's death. She didn't stink herself, although her vomit was a completely different story. I tried not to mind it, just grabbing her hand. It was stiff, and her fingers were curled.
"Sorry love, but could you give me a hand? Nevermind, you only need to lift a finger."
Thunk.
Looking back, I should have done the whole hand, it would have been so much funnier.
