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Rich Mrs Griffin (standard:horror, 1370 words)
Author: Lev821Added: Jul 27 2013Views/Reads: 2867/1696Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
When you brag about your riches, don't be surprised when someone comes knocking.
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

Neal was soon back walking down the path. When he entered the house, he
closed the door over, but left it open by a few millimetres. He went 
back into the kitchen to see her looking down at the open cupboard, and 
the pipes within. “Are they dangerous?” she asked. “Would I have needed 
them doing?” “Yes,” said Neal, “You would have, but if you had have 
sprung a leak, it would have cost you a lot of money to have them 
fixed”. 

As they talked, Wayne slipped into the hallway. He rushed up the stairs
and took from his pocket a carrier-bag for the valuables, and a knife 
incase he had to confront somebody. He opened the door to the back room 
and found it was basically a storage room. An old dustladen sofa was 
against one wall. In a corner was a television that dated from the 
seventies, worth nothing. There was a broken chest of drawers and 
several old catalogues spilled on the floor. Light forced its way 
through the dusty windows. Wayne knew he didn't need to bother 
searching it, there was nothing of any value there. He went back out 
onto the landing and into the front bedroom. He could see it was lived 
in and looked around to see where he could begin his search. A chest of 
drawers was immediately in front of him and he quickly pulled them open 
and rifled through them, finding only clothes. Nothing valuable. He 
turned and stepped across to a bedside table, but halted, as he looked 
at the bed. 

At first, he could not comprehend what he was looking at, but slowly it
sank in. 

The bed was occupied. 

Somebody lay there, beneath a thin duvet, a duvet splattered with blood.
The occupant had had their head blasted, by what must have been a 
powerful weapon. Blood, brains, and pieces of skull had blown into the 
pillow and onto the headboard behind. Light glinted from the crimson 
which was still trickling. 

Suddenly from downstairs he heard a bang. Seconds later somebody came up
the stairs. He saw a shadow on the wall first, then the woman appeared 
carrying a Brazilian militia ranger shotgun which she pointed at the 
youth. “I see you have found Mrs Griffin,” she said, gesturing to the 
bed. “If you brag about your riches, sooner or later somebody is going 
to come and take it, and that someone is me. Sorry, but I was here 
first”. She pulled the trigger, and Wayne's head splattered across the 
wall. 

She had already looted the house, and was about to leave when they had
come knocking. She rifled though his pockets and found a few coins, 
then turned and walked back down the stairs, walked back into the 
kitchen where her two bags of jewellery and valuable items had been 
zipped up and placed by the back door, unnoticed by Neal who now lay 
prone, his head having been blown apart beneath the sink. A rifle 
through his pockets revealed a bundle of ten-pound notes wrapped in an 
elastic band. 

Putting the shotgun in the bag she was soon leaving through the front
door, closing it behind her and walking to her own car which had been 
parked across the road. Putting the bags on the back seat, she got into 
the drivers seat, slammed the door, and never looked back as she drove 
away. 


   


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