The Murder of Allie Carter
Somewhere, deep in the woods, she waited for the man to come back. It had been hours since he’d left -- she didn’t know how long -- but she could tell from the nightsong outside that it was getting late. She couldn’t see anything at all. A burlap sack was hung over her head and a gag was stuffed in her mouth. It was almost impossible to breathe. Her breath was coming hot from her nose, which was still bleeding from when she was kidnapped. She thought she might suffocate at any moment. Her back hurt, she must have been dragged here, and her hands were bound tightly with rope behind her back, attached to the chair. He had done a good job of securing her. She hadn’t seen him when it happened -- he must have come from an alleyway in town this morning. Stupid, she shouldn’t have been out by herself that early.
Finally she heard it, the sounds of boots crunching on dry leaves, getting ever closer. Her heart began to race. The door squeaked open on its hinges and she heard something heavy thump onto the floor near her. The man just stood there unmoving for a long while, and she didn’t know what was going to come next. Would he kill her? Did he mean to have his way with her? Was this someone she knew who had a grudge? What the hell was she doing here?
Finally he approached, pulling the sack off her head and unwinding the gag. He still said nothing. As the gag was taken out of her mouth, her breath was stuttered and ragged. She looked down to see the dried blood on her shirt that had dripped down from her nose. There was a lot, and it covered the tin star that was pinned to her chest. She looked up and tried to see his face, but it was too dark. All she could see was a mass of hair and those dark, dark eyes as they peered at her.
“What...what do you want with me?” she croaked. She thought she might faint at any moment, but she refused to. If this was going to be her death, she would face it without fear. Just like she had always done. But she had been through so much the past few years, she didn’t want it to end like this.
The man turned and lifted a pail off of the ground and she heard the sound of water. He tipped it toward her mouth and she drank greedily, but most of it went down her shirt. Once she was finished drinking, he put the bucket down and came to stand in front of her again.
“I want to know things. Things about Brimstone,” the man said slowly in a gravelly voice, with something of a southern twang. “The candidates for mayor, what can you tell me about them?”
“You could have asked anyone in town that, and you kidnapped me? You have to know that I have powerful friends. The sheriff of Brimstone and I --”
“No. I don’t care about him. You will tell me everything you know about William...William Blakeley.”
45 minutes later, her face was raw from where he had struck her many times, and her lip was bleeding. She had lost at least one tooth, she could feel the gap with her tongue. She was terrified. But she hadn't broken.
He grunted and sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I will get my revenge anyway.”
She didn’t see the knife until it was raised in his fist, the blade glinting from the pale light coming from outside. In that moment she thought of her beloved, that she would never get to see him again. And then the blade slammed down.