The Wicked Finger

The Wicked Finger

I started work as a personal assistant for the CEO of one of the largest firearms manufacturing companies in the world. He was a very old man. I loved this man. I really did! Do you think I wanted to do what I did? Do you think that I am mad for accomplishing such a feat? Just wait until I tell you how I dealt with this problem.

     It started with his hands, his fingers. He only had a total of eight fingers. When I first met the old man I asked him how he was missing two important extremities. He replied to my question saying that he lost them in a cooking incident 4 years ago. I wanted to laugh and mock him, but that would be foolish of me to do. He was the creator of one of the largest companies in the world! And he was paying me! How silly would it be of me to throw an opportunity like this away? But how does a man this powerful lose two of his fingers trying to cook? I don't trust this man.

     It was driving me insane now. I tried to simply ignore his deformities but it was simply too much. I could not stand this any longer! They had to be removed. He had to be removed. I had ingeniously contemplated for days, no weeks on how I was to rid of that disgusting, vile man. I thought that it would be best if I didn't make it look like I did it at all. I would make it look like             he had committed suicide.

     I had just the scheme. I would  simply lynch the man. But how would he enter this noose I so perfectly crafted? He would not just simply walk right into it like a fool, I would have to put him to sleep somehow. The man was a mild drinker, drinking a glass or two of wine before he went to bed every night. So I could slip some Rohypnal in his wine before he went to bed. This is the perfect plan! How come no one has came up with such a plan before? I must be a very intelligent man to be able to devise such a plot!

     Midnight is approaching. The time to act has come. As he kindly asked for his wine, I responded with joy. I poured his glass with rare wine and applied the roofie and watched as it dissolved in his cup. I served it to him with a smile, and within ten minutes he was asleep.

     Once he was unconscious on his fine chair that he always sat in, I then carried him into the third floor of his mansion where I had already created a gallows. I applied the noose around his neck and kicked his body off of the railing. The perfect murder, completed. I went to bed knowing that I would get away with this act. I closed my eyes and drifted away into the blackness we call sleep.