Author's note -
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any way, shape or form. Screen-recording, photocopying, along with any other method of transmitting is not permitted. Please accept and appreciate that hard work was put into this story. Many thanks, enjoy your reading experience.
Disclaimer - The following story is intended for mature audiences. It contains graphic descriptions of crime scenes, adult dialogue and mentions of mental health issues and abuse; if you are sensitive to the topics in question, this isn't the story for you. Viewer discretion is advised.
Some characters featured within this story may be upsetting to some readers. Just to clarify, I do not support the narrator's actions throughout this story or condone any matters of violence. Please bear in mind this is just fiction - it is meant to be imaginative.
01
Her blood was painted across every wall, every crack, every crevice of that room. It was her room, no doubt. Behind the bloodshed, it was exactly the same as it once was. Each bloody hand print, each desperate scratch engraved within each wall represented the strenuous fight for life that took place.
The room was crisp. It was almost as if the room mimicked her dead, lifeless corpse; a cold atmosphere wafting the stench of metal. Her blood was a fresh crimson, still slowly oozing out of every stab wound.
It satisfied me. Truly. She was dead and I made sure of it. I didn't care about her anymore. She was nothing but a strain on my life. I needed her gone. Her fate was sealed from the very beginning; I had planned this sweet day since day one.
With a bright head on my shoulders? There's not a worry in my mind. At the very most, I am a suspect. But nobody will prove I murdered her. Nobody will prove I murdered my so called 'girlfriend'. My only motive? Revenge. It was all I had ever craved. Call me crazy, deranged, perhaps even evil... but as we progress through my story, you will understand why she had it coming.
After admiring the bittersweet scene, I began scrambling around to clean up after myself. Not that I was going to deep clean and scrub aggressively like some kind of housemaid, of course, I decided to leave her blood and her body exactly how it was. Besides, tampering with her body increased the chances of my DNA being found on her person, which is the last thing I wanted.
My kill was most likely going to appear to have been by someone who knew Adelaide, and I knew that. It was too personal and fuelled by anger to be randomly selected. Someone who didn't know her wouldn't have had so much resentment towards her to have treated her body so viscously. They would've stopped once her pulse came to an end. Whereas, I continued to mutilate her corpse after the last heartbeat chimed. To say I enjoyed it is an understatement.
Quietly and tactically, I left the murder scene behind me and snuck out the same way I had entered - the basement.
A few days prior, I visited Adelaide's home after a text I had received. She claimed she wanted to watch a few movies and, overall, have a couple's night. As she fell asleep on the couch, I took the opportunity to sneak off downstairs and unlock the entrance to the basement, knowing fine well it would help me with my wicked plan.
Her house was flash and wealth screamed from the very walls of it. Outside lay a set of old, mossy stairs that led straight towards the basement, accompanied by a metal banister that had rusted from years of collision with the rain. I figured this would be the perfect way to enter when the time came.
The deed was done. The plan had been executed. Now all I needed to do was act like my life and freedom, I had quite literally killed for, depended on it. I prayed that, for once in my life, some form of luck supported me.
I made my way back to my own apartment that night feeling a way I had never felt before. It was as if weight had been taken off my shoulders. As if all my worries and fears had disappeared altogether. I should've felt guilty, no doubt... but I wasn't. I couldn't be.
Now, I'm one guilty guy and I often blame myself in situations I shouldn't. I can't help it; from a young age I was forced to apologise for everything, blamed for everything. After awhile, it becomes nothing but habit to fall guilty to crimes you didn't commit. But this time was very different from all the others - I had committed a brutal murder on someone I should've loved and I didn't feel one ounce of regret.
Had I lost my mind?
To that, I say no. What happened was I lost my patience to tolerate the miserable life I was forced to have. I became wise, I became brave to my mistreatment. And so? I formulated a plot to end this suffering. I snapped. Completely had enough.
Adelaide Briggs looked like your picture-perfect young-woman. In fact, she looked like a dream. But to me? She was nothing but a nightmare in disguise of an angel. She was like a siren, luring in her unsuspecting victims by her beauty and grace.
The Briggs family were loaded, to say the least. They possessed numbers both you and I could never dream of. By chance, Addy grew up with the best of the best. However, growing up with such a lavish lifestyle only made her cold and big-headed. She believed she was above everybody, she believed that she deserved to have complete and utter power and control over whatever she pleased. Or in my case, whoever. She wished to have a pawn on her board. I was that piece. No longer a man, but a slave to her commands.
Life was a game to Adelaide Briggs. I made sure the game ended for her. Her reigning victories had clouded over me for years, and now, finally, I had the upper-hand. I had won her cruel game.
YOU ARE READING
Foul Is Fair
Mystery / Thriller"Life was a game to Adelaide Briggs. I made sure the game ended for her." When a man murders his girlfriend to escape his lifetime of trauma, he plays a chilling game with authorities in order to get away with it. Will his lies support him, or will...
