P.S.

500 Word Noir Project

Suggestions: Riverbed, Mortal Enemies, Erotic Novel

Word Count: 588…because ‘under 600 words noir’ doesn’t have the same ring to it.

P.S.

Aortic drums pound. Melanie’s wrists throb in the grip of my left hand. My right presses the .45 to her heart.

“Shelby!” Melanie pleads, “Why?

She knows why.

Her laugh is hysterical, “We haven’t talked in ten years. Now you’re going to kill me in a dried out creek behind a…Royal Farms gas station?!”

There’s the reason I was hired to kill her. Then there’s the reason I will.

 

We were best friends. The distance between our colleges and tangerine iMacs was just math. 

HunnieMel: tell me literally evrything!!!!!!!

And I would.

Belshelvic666: unbuttoned that nerdy plaid & the only thing in the world i wanted wuz to bounce my tits thru his mahogany chest hair!!! 

L8r I found out his dad is n exec at aspenhaus publishing

kinda makes me not want to fuck him bcuz I dont wan2 be accused of sleeping my

way 2 the top. my talent alone is gon2 win me the pulitzer!!! 

Jk jk 

not rlly jk tho…

HunnieMel: whatevs u r a hot coed- live a little!

more sex stuf 

play by play 

Plsss?

Belshelvic666:  lol u perv!

HunnieMel: lololololbwahaha u have noooo idea! 

c’mon 

deeeeeeetz!

Belshelvic666: …r u getting off on this?

She was. Then I was. We were. 

 

 I’ve pinned Melanie.

“Angelika,” I say.

Her eyes dart wildly, “From Carl’s Love Dungeon? Shelby. You have to know she is lying. Everything Mark and I do is 100% consensual!”

I remind her, “Not everything.”

 

Mark wore plaid shirts over his mahogany chest hair. I fucked lots of boys and girls. I wrote Melanie everything.

Two years later, I fell in love. With Mark. I didn’t want to fuck anyone else. Including Melanie.

Belshelvic666:  last thing I want 2 do is hurt u & our friendship

HunnieMel: omg dont worry!!!!!!!!!!!! i am sooooo happy 4u!!!!!!!!!!!

Belshelvic666: …rly?

HunnieMel: wen do i get 2 meet him?!!?

We all hung out during winter break. 

The next semester I had to drop out of college. The recession hit. My dad lost the house. Parents split up. 

Mark left me for Melanie.

My mom caught me with a girl and threw me out.

I did what I could to survive.

 

New target. Old client.

 Carl picked up a paperback from his desk and read, “He unzipped that nerdy spacesuit, and the only thing in the world I wanted was to bounce my tits through his mahogany chest hair!

I’d read every one of my sexual exploits, in my own words, on the pages of novels by ‘interstellar erotica’ author, Zenobia Honeybell, published by the Aspenhaus romance imprint. The violation felt as raw, hearing those words read aloud, as when I first discovered Melanie’s oevre in a stack of beauty salon books.

 “Spread the word she raped Angelika the dominatrix. Pin the murder on Angie’s jealous boyfriend. He’s going away for other charges, we’ll add Zenobia to the bill,” Carl laughed, “Ms. Erotica’s rich-boy husband thought he could double cross me.”

Carl had two businesses. The Love Dungeon was the legal one. Mark must’ve gotten mixed up in drugs.

Carl slaps ‘Zenobia’ on the cover, “Not her real name-”

 I told Carl not to worry, I knew her.

He was surprised, “She’s not that successful.”

“She’s a published author. That’s everything,” I deadpanned.

 Carl thought it was a joke. 

 

“Melanie,” I hiss, “Why?

“What do you want?” she sobs, “Royalties?”

I laugh, “I’m paid plenty.”

I release the safety.

 “Why my life, Mel?” I ask,My words?”

She didn’t have an answer. 

So, I shot her dead.

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