The Vengeance Stalker: (Flash Fiction)
I am the Vengeance Stalker. The Mistress of Witches summoned me and I came. Not in a ball of fire, or a poof of smoke. Not in an explosion of light. I did not make the ground rumble.
I came as a mortal. The most annoying kind of mortal I could think of: an encyclopedia salesman.
I rang the bell. The woman who opened the door was the Mistress's daughter. Very beautiful and very powerful, like her mother. She was, perhaps, destined to become more powerful than her mother.
I got into character. "Good afternoon, Mam. My name is V.S. Cavalry..." Get it? V.S. for Vengeance Stalker. And 'cavalry,' as in the cavalry is here.
"... and I'm here to offer you an amazing opportunity today."
"Whatever you're selling, we don't want any."
As if I hadn't heard her. "It's a must have addition for any home library, Mam. From A to Z, Atlantic Oceania Encyclopedias brings the world to you, right in the safety and comfort of your own living room."
"Go away, little man." She tried to shut the door in my face.
Undaunted, I put my foot in the opening. I took her hand and put it to the cover of one of the books. "Feel that texture, Mam. Isn't that luxury? That's one hundred percent, real imitation Moroccan leather. Nothing but the best for the customers of Atlantic Oceania."
The witch pushed me back, said the words of a spell, and then pointed at me.
The lightning came down and stuck me. I flew back several feet and my sample encyclopedias were shredded.
I lay there twitching for a moment, to make it look good. Then I killed her joy, when I got up smiling, brushed myself off, and said, "Whew! Weird weather you got out this way. Mam, do you mind if I came in for a minute, out of the..."
She had a gun in her hand and she unloaded it into my chest and abdomen.
I really hammed it up this time, like Sonny Corleone getting shot to death on the causeway, in The Godfather. I shook, rattled, and rolled, and fell to the side, into the shrubbery.
When she came to look, I was not there.
I came up behind her, jingling the bullets. "Do you want these back, my dear, or will you reload?"
"What is going on here?" the Mistress said.
I went to the Mistress and put myself at her feet. I put my head against her thigh.
The Mistress accepted my devotion by petting and rubbing my head.
"I have come, Mistress. I am at your will."
"Of course you are," the Mistress said.
"I am your obedient servant."
"I know, I know."
"Mother, who is this?"
The Mistress said, "This is my Vengeance Stalker."
I tore myself from my favorite spot in the world. I went to the daughter, took one of her hands, and kissed it.
"Charmed, my dear," I said. "My card."
The card was made of human skin.
More by this Author
This is a quick flash fiction about a duel.
This is a story about an experiment in human loneliness. It is one of the longer lengths for flash fiction.
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What I want to try to do is to help us achieve clarity on just exactly what the Cuban Revolution of January 1, 1959 was all about.