Blog 5 Story Starters

“That will show them,” I thought as I hammered the last nail into place. I have just committed murder. It was fun. Blood, flesh, murder. The epitome of fun. Across the wooden casket, which I just nailed shut, was a bloody crucifix. I couldn’t even look at Jesus after what I had just done. He seemed to look at me with a frown, though I knew he couldn’t. Under the casket were planks of plywood. I slammed the shovel across them and they broke. The casket tumbled into the grave sideways, but I didn’t care. They were dead. She was dead, with five bullets in her chest. He had a cut from ear to ear, and across his chest were cuts deep in his flesh. They spelled out “DIE”. Which is what he had just done. I chuckled slowly to myself. My breath was cold and made me lose faith in my own ability to hide what I had just done. What if the cops show up at my door? What will I do to hide this? My bloody sneakers stepped slowly across the ground as I walked toward the mound of dirt spattered with blood and bits of flesh. There was steak of flesh lying across a plank on the ground. It was a piece of flesh from a deer I had just killed. Its body lay just past the mound of dirt. I looked at it with disgust. I’m not sure why I was disgusted, but I was. It sickened me that I had just done that. I committed murder and killed a deer with my bare hands. I grabbed my shovel, and in the dark, cold night I filled in the grave, blood coming from my hands cut by splinters on the shovel. I was free from their incessant laughter and life. Their stare which only told me of their mischief. I laughed as I put the last shovel full of dirt on their grave. They were gone forever. Out of my life, and out of my head. The deer, with only three legs, lay on the ground with no life left. I raised my blade and cut across its side and put a bottle with a note inside it. The note read “For those who have found me, you now realize that this deer was brutally murdered. That goes double for the people living under the ground at this exact spot. I would suggest you dig.” I dragged the deer’s dead body across the ground directly over the grave. I slammed my shovel into the ground and turned and walked away. My gun was in the casket. My shovel was left behind, covered in my blood. Perhaps they will find me soon enough.
I walked, stumbled to be more precise, to my wooden cabin in he woods. Their rooms were covered in blood. I walked slowly as to attempt to make no noise. I walked into my room and looked in my closet. There sat twenty one-gallon jugs of gasoline. I took each individual jug and emptied the contents all over my house. Their room was doused even more than the others. When I was content, I poured a whole jug on their bed where they slept. On my door I nailed a note. It read:

If you found this note and can read any of it, I am obviously dead. You may be wondering what purpose it served to kill my sister and her husband. There was only the purpose of disposing of his rotten life. Without him, she could be Happy. It saddens me that I killed her and I Promise that I did not want to. I shot her only to keep my dirty secret of the murder hidden As long as I could. I apologize for their deaths, but if you knew what he did, you would be on my side in this argument. With this note,
I submit my deeds to those who read it. Please know why I did this.

Sincerely, the only righteous one who lived in this wretched house



I lit a match and lay down on my bed. I poured gasoline over my body and dropped the match on myself. I felt the flames burning and consuming me. I had fallen just like them.