The Final Heist - Friday Flash Fiction Horror Story

This was supposed to be our last job. It was large enough to set us for life, both of us, and our families, reaching our goal of financial independence a few years earlier then expected.
A quick job, in and out, methodical and clean, a robbery of its finest and planned to the T.
Nothing was going to stop us, after all, we knew how to act quick, and in all of our years of criminal activity we never had to physically harm anyone.
We were proud of that fact.
We had principles.
And we knew how to stay out of the radar of the police.

Everything was planned, today was supposed to be the day and all we had to do was wait until it was past midnight. We had found the perfect place to watch and wait, to embrace and be embraced by the darkness that was going to be absolute on this day before the New Moon. We were used to waiting patiently, our patience had been practiced like an artist practiced his specialty.

What added to the satisfaction was that we were robbing those who robbed others.

Then everything that could go wrong went wrong.

We did not even make it out of our car when he found us. Dan was dead before he could react, his throat slashed with a quick efficiency that only a master could bring forth. He knocked me out, before I was able to reach for the Magnum in the glove compartment. He wanted to take his time with me.

In all of our luck and precision, our planning and concise pre-arrangements we had to park ourselves in the hunting grounds of a serial killer.

A serial killer with preferences for blond women.

Just after midnight, the darkness covering the area as deep as it could, with such an completeness I had never seen before, the time when we were supposed to rake in the heist of our lifetime, I began begging him to let me die.

© Claudia H. Blanton 2013