Creative Writing: Deadly Justice

DEADLY JUSTICE

Prologue

The full moon shined revealing the man’s face. He stepped back until darkness sheltered him. Lights in the bar dimmed. He saw her shadow pass the window obscured by the Miller Lite sign. He sneered, he was about to extinguish her light.

He chose this bar because of the sign. True there were other bars with the Miller Lite signs in their window. However, this was the only one in Washington D.C. where the barmaid was named Miller; at least as far as he knew. Tonight Shannon Miller would be his. For the next two hours, he would toy with her. Give her a chance to repent. An hour before sunrise her time would run out.

How long would it be before her family, her friends reported her missing? As with the others, he would weigh her body down with a cement block. In a week or two, someone, maybe a tourist would discover a floater in the Potomac. All evidence washed away. She would be just another woman executed by the D C Killer.

The door opened. She stood in the breach surveying the parking lot. Satisfied she turned, locked the door and hurried across the deserted lot to her car, a red Toyota with more rust than red. The tap tap of her high heels beat a drum on the cracked asphalt. The moon scurried behind the clouds as if to hide its face in horror

He was an avenger, a messenger of God. His mission to rid the nation’s capital of immoral women. Prostitutes feared him. Now they walked the streets in pairs. In their terror, they still pursued their wicked trade. At times, he saw them huddled to gather in groups of three or four. They reminded him of children in a thunderstorm.

Like a ghost, he crept in her direction. The only light cast by the Miller Lite sign and a distant street lamp. The only lamp had been...

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...d to the middle of the river. Giving her a kiss he pushed her body into the water. She sunk down the block pulling her out of his sight.

No time. He stashed the old rowboat under the aged willow tree where he found it two days before. The blood soaked running suit went into a one Dumpster the gloves into another. He knew the schedule. By 10 AM, they would both be in the landfill. Good luck on finding them.

At the townhouse, he showered and changed into his power suit. It was going to be a great day. Today he would announce his candidacy for president.

The limo pulled to the curb. Jimmy Falan jumped out and was half way up the sidewalk when Jerold Robbins opened the front door.

“Good morning Senator or should I say Mr. President?

“Not yet Jimmy. It won’t be long. Then you’ll be the cufferfer to the most powerful man in the world.”

“Yes sir.” Jimmy grinned.