Dialing Death and Dropping Dice [EWC]

"Did you make contact with the subject?", asked the voice on the phone. The voice was feminine and soft, with an undertone of evil. The combination made it even more intimidating.

"No. He hasn't arrived at the house. I've been sitting in this car watching the door for hours, but there's no sign of him", Ray answered, fearful of what the reply would be of the woman on the other end of the phone.

"That is not acceptable. You were ordered to pass the information to him in a timely manner, or there would be consequences to pay."

"Look, I'm doing exactly what you asked of me. If he's not here, there's not much I can do. Threatening me isn't going to make him appear", Ray knew that saying this to the woman would most likely piss her off, but he was a little frustrated at this point. He was afraid of the woman, and more importantly, of who she might possible represent, but he had to stand up for himself at some point in this whole thing.

"This is not a game Mr. Vincent, but since you insist on not following my rules, open the glove box of your car. There is a black bag within. Open it!" The woman's voice was no longer soft, and even more evil.

"Dice?" Ray was confused by what he found in the glove box.

"You will notice that there are two die, one red and one black. Drop the red one on the passengers seat of the car."

"I don't know what the purpose of..."

"NOW MR. VINCENT!"

Ray dropped the red die on the passengers seat and watched as the number three appeared.

"Three members of your family are about to die Mr. Vincent", the female voice sounded cheerful to relay the news to Ray.

"What? How did you know what it was? Please, don't hurt my family! I'm doing everything I can to do what you asked of me!"

"I know and see everything. Now, drop the black die on the seat."

Ray, sat there fearful of what the black die would be for.

"Do it now Mr. Vincent, or we double the score of the previous die."

Ray picked up the black die, and tossed it on to the seat without looking at it. This time, the number two appeared on the face of die.

"The number two is the knife. Three members of your family will die by stabbing. I suggest you pass the information to the subject soon, or you'll have an even greater loss to morn over. I'll be in contact again soon. I have business to attend to. Actually, three pieces of business", with that said, the woman's voice was gone from the phone.

Ray sat frozen in the seat of the car. He wasn't sure how he had gotten mixed up in this, but he was scared to death. He didn't know if the woman was bluffing or serious in her threats, but he wasn't going to take a chance. He had to pass the information along to the man he was looking for.

Out of luck, not that Ray was having much at the time, at that moment, the very man he was looking for pulled into the driveway of the house that Ray had been watching. Not wasting any time, Ray flung open the car door and ran to the man he had been waiting for.

"Are you Tony?" He asked, panicked that it may not be the right guy.

"Yes. Can I help you?" Tony asked, curious to who the man standing before him might be.

"I have some information I was told to give you. I don't know who you are, or why I'm the one giving it to you, but please, if you know what this is about, please don't let them kill my family!.

"Whoa! What the hell are you talking about!" Tony took a step back. This guy in his driveway seemed quite demented.

"I was told to tell you that "she" has your gun, and will kill your girlfriend and frame you for her murder if you do not call this phone number." Ray took the note containing the number from his pocket, and held it out to Tony.

"You're crazy man! Get the hell out of my driveway before I call the cops!" Tony screamed at the man before him, and turned toward the door of his house. He looked back over his shoulder as he unlocked the front door to see the guy placing a piece of paper beneath the windshield wiper of his car, and then walk away.

Once inside, Tony walked straight to the hall closet and opened the door, only to find his small gun safe sitting open on the floor of the closet.

"What the hell is going on?" he said. Fear crept up his spine as he raced back toward the front door. Looking outside, the other man had already vanished. Tony walked to the car and retrieved the piece of paper from beneath the windshield wiper. There was a phone number written on it.

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Sitting in her favorite chair on the front deck of her house, Amy smiled and awaited the ring of the phone on the table beside her. It had been a good day. Ray Vincent did as he was told, and all it cost him was the loss of his grandparents and their dog. The dog wasn't exactly a "human" part of Ray's family, but the way the old couple treated the dog, it was close enough. They seemed like nice enough people, and were very polite as they asked her into their home. They were more than startled when Amy began plunging the knife into them repeatedly.

Being a serial killer was the best part of Amy's life since the loss of her husband. They had spent many years together as a happy couple, and when her husband's CIA job cost him his life, she decided to use the things he had told her and taught her to pay back the world that took him from her. It didn't really matter that the people she killed had no part in his death, only that people suffered as she had suffered.

The phone began to ring.

"Hello Tony. I'm glad you decided to call. Let's make this conversation short, shall we. You already heard what my threat to you contains from Ray. You are to walk to the grocery store one block north of your house, find the cashier named Betty, and tell her that her son Mike has been kidnapped, and that I will kill him if she doesn't call this phone number. Hand her the piece of paper the number is written on, and walk away. Any communication other that what I've said shall be treated as disobedience, and your girlfriend Veronica will die with your own gun, and you'll spend the rest of your days imprisoned for her murder. Are we clear Tony?"

Amy looked back through the screen door into her house and on her television could see Tony drop to his knees and begin to cry. She changed the channel and could see Ray crying in the seat of his car. Amy's husband would be proud to know that all the things he taught her had been put to use. Her husband had been an assassin for the CIA, and Amy was more than happy to continue in his trade.

I like your use of Narrative SnF sometimes I find myself lacking in dialogue cause I always feel like Im having a conversation with myself lol

reply to post by Brotherman


Thanks for reading the story...Writing narratives can definitely be a challenge. I talk to myself all the time just for practice. j/k