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Louder, But Barely Audible


The trail looked treacherous. The rocks looked dry, but they were not. They were glassed over and slippery. With the murdered infant tossed over his shoulder he knew that every step he took had to have some concentration and a great deal of steadiness. It was eerily quiet except for the haunting bird noises and the water fighting the ice for supremacy. Every now and again he would hear the ice cracking beneath his boots, and the heavy breathing that forced its way out when he wasn't holding his breath.

Time wasn't of the essence because no one knew that he killed an infant yet. They were going to report the child missing and then they would discover the body in the woods, intentionally half buried.

Wayne Trevor King kept pushing deeper into the woods, but for some odd reason he felt as if he was being watched. Perhaps the soul of the murdered infant wanted to see where the body was going to be deliberately half buried.

He spun around quickly to see if he could catch someone watching, but fell on his back. Luckily the ice supported his weight and he didn't release the grip on the body.

“Fuck,” he whispered as he stayed on the ground for a few minutes, using the fall as an excuse to catch his breath.

Suddenly, something moved close by and startled him. He knew there wasn't anything there, but nonetheless he just remained on the ground silent and he tried not to move. He felt his heart pounding loud against his chest and it actually hurt. He peered intently into the cold air and there wasn't anything there. He gathered himself and stood up not losing the hold he had on the small corpse.

The adrenaline that held his body tight was wearing thin as he headed for a clearing in the brush. He dropped the body by his feet and snapped out a small shovel that was secured to his belt. He looked around briefly as if he was expecting an audience.

He stood motionless for a moment before he began his task. Then the shovel broke earth. He kept digging a shallow grave until he removed enough frozen earth to stick the body in. Deliberately making half the body stick out.

The cold air closed in around him and he seriously wondered if he should have dug the hole deeper. Making it a difficult task in finding the child.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a movement in the bushes and he stood vigilantly over the body. He then moved forward slowly and crouched down before a tree branch that didn't quite shake the leaves off. Winter had no affect on that tree as it still held on to its leaves.

There was a shadow that moved slowly in and out of the near by brushes. He couldn't see who or what it was but he watched and he watched some more.

Was it the child's spirit or a ghost he thought. Or was it an animal smelling food? He kept looking hard trying to see what was moving near by.

Was it God? That was a crazy thought as he moved closer toward the movement.

Wayne Trevor King couldn't remember if these woods housed wolves or other wild animals. It could have been a deer or squirrels.

He wanted the body to be found intact. He didn't want to provide food for the forest scavengers.

“Show yourself,” he whispered.

He listened some more.

The movement ended and he turned back toward the body where he set up a few flares. He ignited them and placed them around the body so that someone of the human variety could find the missing child.

His job was done as he headed back to the trail. Someone would find the infant and the manhunt would begin. It would rip the town apart and he would sit back and wait.

He would enjoy the wait. Wayne Trevor King just knew he would love it. It's what madmen live for. And he considered himself just that.


© 2018 Frank Atanacio


Frank Atanacio (author) from Shelton on April 01, 2018:

yes, I will.. thanks

Li-Jen Hew on April 01, 2018:

@Frank Have a great day too!

Frank Atanacio (author) from Shelton on April 01, 2018:

thanks for stopping by Li-Jen have a great day

Li-Jen Hew on April 01, 2018:

Again, your last paragraph is amusing. A murderer's point of view, interesting. Strange man, he wants the infant to be half buried. Thanks for adding his thoughts too, "if these woods housed wolves or other wild animals. It could have been a deer or squirrels." I like that. :)

Frank Atanacio (author) from Shelton on February 13, 2018:

thats good Im glad to hear that

Nikki Khan from London on February 13, 2018:

My pleasure Frank,,everything is fine,,been bit busy with my kids and some other things.

Frank Atanacio (author) from Shelton on February 13, 2018:

Nikki thank you hope all is well

Nikki Khan from London on February 13, 2018:

Wow Frank,,really outstanding.Liked the line "it's what madmen live for".

Great work of flash fiction.

You absolutely have strong grip on this type of fiction.

God bless you.

Frank Atanacio (author) from Shelton on January 23, 2018:

thanks Jack for stopping by..:)

jgshorebird on January 22, 2018:

I have met many of his King's kind. A well told story. As all of your stories, they pull you through to the end.

Frank Atanacio (author) from Shelton on January 20, 2018:

you r too kind Genna LOL...

Genna East from Massachusetts, USA on January 20, 2018:

Oooohhhh...can you knock this guy off, Frank, in your next hub? I'd like to see him meet Frank Atanacio's unequivocal sense of justice -- absolute, and uncompromising. You are one of the best flash fiction short writers I know. This is a riveting write.

Frank Atanacio (author) from Shelton on January 20, 2018:

Missy thank you so much for your comment..bless you

Missy Smith from Florida on January 19, 2018:

Well, I do wonder why it is the confusion for the families and police that these killers seem to derive some twisted pleasure from? However, it is also obvious that impulses rule. These killers impulses overwhelm them, and they just can't help themselves.

The scary thing is, I believe we all possess crazy impulses of curiosity. It can come in many different forms. Unfortunately, curious killers are the worst among us.

I, myself, take impulses as just another test of life. In everything we do, we are faced with desires and seductions of many kinds. I feel only the intelligent and pure at heart can fight these types of things that can come in the form of desires, like cheating on a spouse, or that can come from that inner curious voice inside our head. Those are the types of seductions that these killers are just not strong enough to resist; their own internal voice.

However, like in your story, I often think that they must think God is watching, and have some kind of worry about death themselves. I think killers are probably the most afraid to die than any of us here on earth. They know what is coming when they do die. Don't you think?

This is another very dark and disturbing realistic fiction tale, Frank. Sometimes it is hard to read these types of stories, but they are compelling, and we all know are written from what we face here among us everyday. Killers!

Frank Atanacio (author) from Shelton on January 17, 2018:

LOL MsDora he is a nut.. wants to start a panic throughout the town..

Dora Weithers from The Caribbean on January 17, 2018:

Why would he want the child dead, but not want animals to eat the corpse? Is there some weird kind of compassion or is it simply madness?

Frank Atanacio (author) from Shelton on January 17, 2018:

LOL you and Clive wished him dead LOL... I'm not in your league yet..LOL

Bill Holland from Olympia, WA on January 17, 2018:

Darkness and evil personified.....I want that man dead, please! LOL You and I could team up for one nasty story, my friend.

Frank Atanacio (author) from Shelton on January 17, 2018:

Shyron and Flourish thank you so much for visiting my story

FlourishAnyway from USA on January 16, 2018:

You and Clive need to get together and write a novel about this. Dueling perspectives or justice chasing the madman. Awesome writing. Chilling topic. Makes me wonder the background, the context.

Shyron E Shenko from Texas on January 16, 2018:

Frank, this is a sad and chilling tale

About a man who walked straight out of hell

he has no idea how he will meet his end

one who thinks the devil is his friend

he will surely rue the day

he took the child away



Gripping story, Blessings my friend

Frank Atanacio (author) from Shelton on January 16, 2018:

thank you Peg Cole.. although I wish I had your style of writing

Peg Cole from North Dallas, Texas on January 16, 2018:

Yikes, what a chilling tale in so many different ways. Your writing clearly describes the actions of a madman - someone with no remorse and no heart. He lives to be in the limelight. You've presented the reader with a slice of hell right here on this earth. Sad to think these sort of people exist and sad for the family of that child. Well told, Frank.

Frank Atanacio (author) from Shelton on January 16, 2018:

lmao at clive's comment

Clive Williams from Jamaica on January 16, 2018:

And as Wayne Trevor King turned around, he was shocked as he met face to face with a real man, not an infant. The coward was frightened as I point the 357 Magnum to his head. The place was cold and so must have been his pee in his pants. I squeezed, his brain married the Frozen branches as hungry birds flew down and pecked on his marrow. The child killer was dead.

Frank Atanacio (author) from Shelton on January 16, 2018:

thank you manatita for the comment

manatita44 from london on January 16, 2018:

You are good, Bro and continue to be good. Nicely paced... flows well... intriguing and the suspense follows the plot. A superb piece of flash. Well done!

Frank Atanacio (author) from Shelton on January 16, 2018:

thanks so much for your support Eric

Eric Dierker from Spring Valley, CA. U.S.A. on January 16, 2018:

All crazed murderers deserve your three name moniker. I hope the fear never leaves him, although that be his favorite drug.

Thanks Frank for another great story.

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