The following draft is COPYWRITED material – it cannot be used for any reason without the permission of the author…
She had been shadowing him for months. Today she followed him into a local discount mattress store. She stood a few feet from him listening, pretending to browse. He didn’t care. Just another good looking woman with a nice ass to admire while doing business.
He ordered the most expensive pillow-top bed as a gift for his third wife. They slept in separate bedrooms. She overheard the day and time of the delivery. He would have the housekeeper leave the old mattress and box springs outside. The delivery truck would pick them up and leave the new one wrapped in plastic in its place.
She entered the home early that morning, having done so many times before without the owners knowledge. She knew the layout, where the floor squeaked and had perfected moving around in the dark in complete silence. The housekeeper wouldn’t been there for a couple hours. The delivery truck would be there in about 1/2 hour.
The alarm in the his bedroom went off when she knew it would. He got up, went to the bathroom, dressed casual and came down the carpeted winding stairs into the kitchen. He flipped on the coffee maker. He poured some OJ. He reached for the bagels. That would be the last thing he would do in his life.
The cable went over his head and around his neck. He heard or saw nothing. Then the jerk backwards. It instantly tightened. He could not breathe. There was massive pain. The blood began to flow from under the metal. His fingers could reach under the tightness now embedded in the skin of his neck. It was digging in deeper and deeper. He was very dizzy. He was terrified. He was confused. And he was dead.
Every ounce of her strength held the cable toward her. If she could have killed him over and over, she would have. She waited a minute until his jerking ceased. His right foot twitched a little and then nothing. Silence. The smell of his blood. The smell of him. His sweat on her hands. She let go and he fell to the clean kitchen tile.
She quickly rolled him into the unzipped plastic bag. She opened the fold in the side of the mattress she had cut earlier and stuffed him inside. Using thick commercial duct tape she sealed up the side. It looked like any typical old mattress that the delivery truck would pick up that day.
She dragged the mattress out the front door and stood it up next to the old box springs. By the end of the day, the old bedding, with him inside, would be slid off the truck into the intense flames of incinerator at the county dump.
There would no of him. He no longer existed. She would be moving on, stronger than ever in her quest of destroying everyone that had done her wrong. And nobody would ever know what happened to him.
