Jellied Geniuses – Dead Deer

Jellied Geniuses

This should be the last time, he thought to himself as he reached deep into his coat pocket, pulling out the wrinkled paper bag. Striding purposefully he opened it up, selected a green jelly baby, popped it in his mouth, and returned the bag. His only weakness, he chuckled to himself. Jelly babies. Always he enjoyed these little treats, except after a ‘job’. Then he bought, instead, the large luxury juice filled fruit jellies, that came in lavish boxes of a dozen, at exorbitant prices.

He had her in the boot of the car, and would just need to drive up to the forest to finish it off, and then dump her. As usual he was wholly unconcerned about being observed. That unobtrusive and secluded location where he picked her up, why did so many young hitchhikers like it there?

He tapped on the boot a couple of times as he unlocked the car – shakes them up a bit that does  – and switched the radio on, to cover the noise of the banging from the back, which always annoys him. It is only an hour or so to drive, but then about the same amount of time afterwards, walking. It would not do to leave her too close to the road after all, and besides he prefers to be undisturbed whilst he, now, how shall we put this? Whilst he ‘works’.

He let his mind wander as he drove, it was a beautiful day, in this beautiful countryside, and he thought once again – as he once again reached for a jelly baby – that she should be his last victim. The thrill was getting less now, it was almost a chore! Thus it was he had only half a mind on the job as he opened the boot to be confronted with the meek, young victim pointing a handgun right at him.

The shock was compounded as he was grabbed from behind. Soon he was shackled and enduring a long, painful end at the hands of these people. Most of his brain was preoccupied with pain and fear, but he had a little space to wonder where he had seen them before. It was when they started to force-feed him kilos and kilos of jelly babies he recalled their faces.

The owners of the sweetshop knew him well, of course. They kept a good stock of his favourite jelly babies. It took them a few years, but eventually they noticed how they sold an expensive box of fruit jellies every time a young woman went missing – and always to the same individual.

Today I wrote from 15:05 to 15:22. I was prompted by an idea here. My other writings here. All my prompted writing here, and my tweets here

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