A Short Story

So if you've read the other couple of short stories I've posted on this blog, you are already aware that they are in a different style than what I use to write my books. And on the off chance that you haven't read any of my books (shame on you!😏), I write Mystery/PI Detective stories featuring Tony Razzolito. I write the detective stories using past tense first person and alternate to a third person POV when needed to advance the story. The short stories are written in third person POV and tend to be a little bit more on the strange and slightly unusual side.

I use this blog to post my thoughts on writing in general, personal stories about my life, information on my books, and the occasional short story. And when I do post a short story here, it's something I'm experimenting with since I'm trying to stretch myself beyond the Mystery/PI genre. So the stories may have some flaws, and probably even need more tweaking, but I look at them as a work in progress. A way for me to work out the kinks, so to speak, and get some feedback in the process. What I care about most is that they are fun, entertaining, and maybe even leave you wanting more.

So here is a little short story (around 1100 words) I've been working on --

The Secret  

   Samuel J Potts was a family man. He had a wife, Jessica, a twelve year old son named Daniel, and a ten year old daughter, Melissa.

   The Potts were an affluent family by most anyone’s standards, and as such, lived in a very nice house in a very nice neighborhood. They lived in a sunny state located in the southern part of the US and enjoyed the typical outdoor lifestyle that area of the country allowed.

   Sam, as his wife called him, worked hard over the last fifteen years building the business that provided the existence they’d all come to appreciate. He had taken over the funeral home his father owned, and that he had worked in as a boy, and turned it into a chain of six across the three surrounding counties.

   His father had been known for his kindness and his compassion, and it had ensured a marvelous reputation for the business. So when his dad retired and turned it over to Sam, he was able to easily secure the investors needed to grow the one funeral home into six.

   Life for Samuel J Potts appeared to be wonderful. He had a nice home, a loving family, money in the bank, and a thriving business to pay for it all.

   But the magnificent life that he built was not all it appeared to be, and the anxiety he felt that it could all come crashing down at any moment was real. He feared for what would happen to him and, more importantly, to his family if the truth were to come out. But he wasn’t sure if he could prevent it from happening, he wasn’t sure if he could change.

   Samuel J Potts had a secret.

   The panic was already starting to set in. She had been awake for about ten minutes or so—long enough to realize that she was trapped. Trapped inside of some sort of box. Darkness enveloped her and she could hardly see her own body as she lay flat on the hard wooden bottom. Sweat dripped from her forehead down the bridge of her nose, some of the droplets veering off into the corners of her eyes. Others rolled off the tip, landing on her top lip, causing her to taste the saltiness on her tongue as she licked around the opening of her mouth.

   She tried to push up on the top of the enclosure, which was about eight inches above her head. It didn’t budge, causing her breathing to become heavier and more labored as she realized she could not sit up. She frantically pushed out to the sides and hit the walls before her arms were able to straighten.

   She knew she wasn’t just in a box… she was in a coffin.

   Samuel J Potts looked up from the body he was embalming. He pulled off the rubber gloves he was wearing and pulled the headphones from his ears. He stood there with his head slightly cocked, listening.

   Thunk!

   There it was again. He was not hearing things.

   Shit! He thought. She woke up. I guess I didn’t use enough chloroform.

   He usually used a sedative, administered intravenously, but it had been an unusually busy few weeks and he didn’t have enough of the good stuff left.

   He rolled the body he was working on back over to the freezer and shut him inside. Then he walked out to the main parlor and approached the casket sitting in the middle of the room.

   Samuel J Potts leaned over and spoke to the woman inside. “Shhh,” he said, as he softly rubbed his hand in a circular motion along the mahogany top. “You’re only making it worse.”

   The woman was hysterical. “Wh-why are you doing this to me?” She was crying uncontrollably. "Who are you? P-please get me out of here,” she pleaded.

   "You know I can’t do that.” He sighed, and then said, “You weren’t supposed to wake up—at least not until the heat became unbearable.” He closed his eyes as he thought about the sweet, panicky screams he knew would come later. He opened his eyes and took in a deep breath. “Try to relax and let yourself go to sleep. It’ll be much easier on you... for now.”

   The woman was frantic, but she tried to calm herself down. She began to take in slow, deep breaths. And it was working, but not for very long. All of a sudden she could no longer take in a deep breath, it would not come. She couldn’t inhale as deeply, and realized that the oxygen in the box was almost gone.

   As soon as Samuel J Potts stopped hearing any noise from the coffin, he smiled. Finally, he thought. It was time to finish the job.

   The casket was already sitting on a set of rollers so he maneuvered it from the parlor down to the room in the basement where the big furnace sat.

   He lined it up to the doors, swung them open, and pushed the box inside. He punched the ignition switch and a big whoosh let him know that the incinerator was on and heating up.

   He pulled up a chair and waited. Soon he would get what he needed. Soon.

   Jessica Potts waited up until her husband came home from work. She loved her husband. They had been together for close to twenty years. Married for sixteen of those years. They had built a wonderful life together and she was happy. He had been a good provider for her and the children, and for that she was grateful.

   Over the years she had gotten used to him working late a couple of times a month, but the last few weeks had been busier than usual, and Sam had been away twice a week instead of twice a month.

   The lights moved across the interior walls of the house as her husband pulled his car into the driveway. The front door opened and the love of her life entered their home.

   “How are you feeling, Sam?” She met him in the doorway and kissed him passionately.

   Samuel J Potts sighed. It was a deeply satisfying sigh. He smiled at his wife. “Better. I feel better,” he said.

   She looked at her husband lovingly. “So, you got what you needed?”

   He smiled. “I did… for now.” He kissed his wife, took her by the hand, and led her down the hallway to the bedroom.

   Jessica smiled coyly as they made mad, passionate love. Her husband had a secret, and she would never tell.
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Well, there you have it - another short story from my semi-warped mind😎

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