A Collection of Short Stories

"Mr. & Mrs Smith"

My eyes slowly opened. My head was pounding and my vision was blurry, dark spots clouding it. My hands struggled behind my back as I tried to get rid of the rope searing my wrists. I groaned out loud. I felt the sweat pour through my clothes as I looked around at the abandoned warehouse, trying to move my legs that seemed numb. I looked around, wetting my dry lips.

I've been drugged and kidnapped. Great, I thought as I struggled in my seat. What had happened again? My memory was clouded as I groaned in frustration. I saw something move out of the corner of my eyes. A figure stepped out of the shadows and moved in front of me, holding what seemed like a gun. My eyes moved up from the barrel of the gun to the person's face.

I groaned in annoyance, 'Oh God, not you again.' I complained.

He smirked, 'It's always good to see you too, darling.' My husband said.

I narrowed my brows at him, 'Did you take out the trash and walk the dog?' I questioned.

Trevor rolled his eyes, 'Yes, dear.'

'What about the plants, did you water them?'

He cocked his gun, 'I'm afraid you won't live to know the answer to that, love.' He raised the gun at me. I tensed for a moment, before leaning back on the chair, doing my best to untie the rope.

'You won't do it. You can barely make the bed, let alone kill your wife.' I teased. His shoulders relaxed.

'That was one time!' He whined. I moved my legs just a fraction, regaining some movement in them.

I raised my brows, unimpressed, 'I found the bed turned on its side with you underneath it and the sheets shredded on the floor. Our mattress still has bullet holes on it.' I deadpanned. I moved my thumb far in enough to dislocate it and slipped it out of the rope knot, it had been surprisingly loose.

He shrugged, 'That's why we have a maid now.'

I rolled my eyes, 'How did you drug me anyway?' I placed my thumb back in its original position.

'Slipped it in your frozen yogurt.'

I glared at him, 'Really, Trevor? The last thing I'll ever eat was frozen yogurt?!'

'I was going to wait until dinner but you'd probably make me try it first.' He said casually.

I rolled my eyes, 'Unbelievable.' I muttered under my breath.

His shoulders tensed again, 'I guess this is it.' He took a deep breath, raising the gun so it was pointing at my head again.

'Uh huh, just one thing.'

'What is it, Jade?' He questioned.

With a sudden move, I launched for him. I tacked him to the ground, successfully grabbing the gun from his hand as he looked up at me stunned. I pressed it to his forehead and his breath hitched for a second.

'You're getting sloppy.'

'Bold of you to think that wasn't intentional.' He smirked.

'Are there even bullets in this gun?' I questioned.

'Will you still make dinner if there are?'

I narrowed my eyes at him, moving the gun away from him and pressing the trigger at one of the grey columns. I watched as a bullet travelled from the barrel, perforating the column as it reached it, a loud bang ricocheting around the room. I gasped loudly and pushed myself off of Trevor.

'You were actually going to shoot me, you psychopath?!'

Trevor stood up and shrugged, 'I'm supposed to kill you. How do you suggest I do that without an actual bullet?' He mused.

'I don't know Trevor, poison my food?! Gosh, I swear it's like you have no consideration on how I'll look like at my funeral.' I huffed.

He hugged me, kissing my cheek, 'You'll look beautiful either way; bullet hole in your forehead or not.'

I glared at him, 'Don't think you're getting out of it that easy. Now let's go home so I can teach you how to properly tie a knot so a victim can't escape.'

'As long as the practice rope isn't coated in glass powder.' He glanced at me suspiciously.

I shrugged casually, 'It might be. You were after all planning on shooting me in my forehead when you know damn well I want an open casket funeral.'

'Will you ever let that go?' He huffed.

We walked through the doors of the warehouse and towards our car as I told Trevor off. I stopped by the driver seat, gun still clutched in my hand and watched as Trevor halted in his steps.

I narrowed my eyes at him, 'What have you done to my damn car?'

'Nothing?' He sounded unsure.

I took a few steps back and shot the handle of the door. I jumped back as the car exploded into flames and bits came flying off. As my car burned to the ground, I put my hands on my hips and turned to my idiot of a husband.

'Trevor! How dare you try to explode me to bits?!' I shouted, about to go on another rant.

'I needed a plan B!' He defended himself, 'I only have until midnight.'

I raised a brow at the statement, 'And you didn't think about just leaking carbon monoxide in the kitchen, or shocking me until I had a heart attack?' He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again.

Trevor scratched the back of his neck, 'Well, this is awkward.'

'I swear to God, if your boss wanted me dead, he should have just hired me instead.' I shook my head as I grumbled under my breath.

We started walking home, 'Shall we just fake it then?' Trevor asked.

I sighed, 'We have no other choice since all your plans are so obvious.' I agreed, 'It's like you don't want me to die.'

He looked and me and smiled, 'I like your chicken frittata, excuse me for not wanting to give that up.'

'You're impossible.' I told him and he leaned in for a kiss.

I was about to lean in as well when I noticed a weird smell and leaned away from him, frowning.

'Do you have poison on your lips or something?'

'Plan C. It'd give you the open casket funeral but it left my lips dry as chalk.' He said, wiping it off and grimacing.

'Romeo and Juliet style, I like it. Except for one flaw: it would make my face go all red and my eyes swell.' I shook my head and kept walking.

As we rounded the corner to our house, I saw smoke on the sky and hurried my step. I stopped in front of our burning house, behind all our neighbours and fire-fighters as they tried to stop our ceiling from falling inside the house, the structure collapsing.

'Did you at least get our wedding photos?' I asked, sighing.

'Weren't they in the storage unit?'

'Goddamnit, Trevor!'