KILLtober Short Story

How To Bait A Perfect Trap – KILLtober Short Story

Gerald looks over towards the girl and swallows before turning his attention back to Foster and Ives.

“No!” He says proudly.

Ives laughs hysterically for several seconds, only to have her laughter put to an end by the loud clapping of a gun firing. The girls almost decapitated body drops to the ground like a sack of potatoes as a small trail of smoke draws up from Foster’s revolver.

“Still want to keep it to yourself, or have we convinced you to change your mind?” Foster says with a snigger, all while Gerald’s eyes grow wide with terror.

“Y-Y-You don’t know what y-you’ve done. Y-Y-You don’t know wh…”

“Shut your trap,” Foster says as he shoves the revolvers muzzle into Gerald’s throat. “If you’re not going to tell us what we want to hear, then I don’t want to hear you talking. Do you understand?”

Gerald stares in bewilderment for a few moments before Foster digs the gun into his throat harder. “Okay, Ok…” he doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence once more as Foster drives the butt of the revolver into his head, and he falls to the ground in agony.

“I said I don’t want to hear you talking unless it’s the codes for the account,” he says with a broader grin on this face.

“You’re a fucking maniac,” Ives announces as she slaps Foster on the back.

Gerald puts his hands in the air, keeping his head down at all times. “Can I say something, and then I promise I’ll give you the codes!”

Foster drives a boot into Gerald’s side, sending him back to the ground. “Codes first, and then you can speak all you fucking want.”

“N-Nooo!” Gerald hisses.

“You ain’t the boss anymore fuck-face I am, and I can do this all day!”

“S-S-So ca-ca-can I!”

Foster winds up to deliver another kick just as he feels the barrel of a revolver touch the back of his neck.

“You two might have all the time in the world to measure dicks, but I don’t. So why the fuck don’t you let the little shit say what he needs to say and we can all move on from this.”

Foster stares into her eyes for several seconds before turning back to Gerald. “You’ve got a handful of words to say what you need, then give us the account code and we’ll all go our own way.”

Gerald laughs as he gets to his knees. “Don’t bullshit me, we all know how this ends, and it’s not with me walking off into the sunset while you guys spend my hard earned fortune.”

“You never got your hands dirty once old man, everyone else did the hard shit while you collected the fortune. So don’t give me your fucking sob story! Now, anything else to get off your mother-fucking bleeding sleeve?”

“She’s not dead,” he says softly.

“Who’s not dead?” Foster asks as he raises an eyebrow of interest.

“Her,” he says nudging his head towards the girls lifeless form. Both Foster and Ives look at each other, then over to the girls body and back over to Gerald.

“I must’ve hit you too hard in the head old man, because that girl is far fro….” Foster doesn’t get to finish his words as a boney hand burst through his chest, holding his heart out for all to see. Ives screams in terror as she turns to face the screaming girl realising all too late that they had not trapped Gerald, for he was only bait.

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