Brooklyn Twilight

This is my friend's short story and he wanted to get some reviews for it, enjoy!

'He needed to get cleaned up: he had a date tomorrow.
He was even thinking of proposing'


3. Page 3

Cora should be around here somewhere, he thought with a small twinge of unease.

   But he soon calmed himself with a glance at the darkening sky, running a hand through his hair. Of course she would be here; he just had to find her.

   She’ll love the flowers. I just kno-

   Was that her?

   Yes, by God, it was; there was no mistaking those beautiful, flowing brown locks. She was just coming out of one of the houses. R.S.S. raised a hand in salute but she did not notice. He chuckled slightly before calling out: “Cora! Over here!”

   She half-turned just as he was crossing the road. She smiled as she watched the man catch up.

   “Cora, wait up!”

   Then she stopped and turned fully to him, which was when he saw it...

   “I’m sorry, you must have me mistak-”

   “You’re not Cora,” said R.S.S., his voice now so cold and hard that John Dees would likely not have recognised it. The woman clearly heard the tone because she backed away a couple of steps, raising her hands in a placating gesture.

   Of course it wasn’t Cora, he realises, because Cora is dead.

   He killed her when she rejected his proposal...

   What else could he have done?

   Wrathful, he threw his bouquet aside without a second thought, starting to advance on the helpless woman. Her eyes and mouth opened wide in terror as R.S.S. pulled a Craftsman hammer from the inside pocket of his smart jacket.

   It was coated with the dried blood of the so-called ‘Hammer Man’s’ previous victims.

   Not one of them had been Cora.

   He brought the hammer down before she could scream; it crushed her nose in a spray of blood. Either dead or unconscious, she collapsed to the ground, where her head slammed against the pavement with a sickening thud.

   Again and again he brought the hammer down, until there was nothing left but blood, bone and brain matter splattered across the tarmac.

   R.S.S., a.k.a. the Hammer Man, looked down at his bloody clothes in disgust.

   He needed to get cleaned up: he had a date tomorrow.

   He was even thinking of proposing.

   The darkness of late twilight should hide the worst of the mess on his clothes, but he would travel by side roads to get home.

   Just in case...

   Maybe I’ll get Cora some flowers tomorrow; she’d like that.

   He looked down at his discarded bouquet and gently plucked it form the gutter. Evidence; he would throw them away later.

   Yes, he would get Cora some more flowers tomorrow. Not these ones: they were dirty now.

   It wouldn’t do to go back to John Dees, though. No, no, no! That wouldn’t do at all...

   But, after all, there are a lot of flower stands in New York City.

   And thinking this, he walked away, whistling as he went.

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