The Flower

“Are you okay?” Damon said, almost mechanically.

“Ye-yes I am fine, just feeling a little warm.” Amy said, forcing a smile. Sure, Sure, the flower is working. Again. Damon thought slyly, his eyes falling upon Amy’s pretty features. It’s always the pretty ones I go for. The pretty ones are the most trouble, the ones that need to go. Damon took Amy’s hand and forced a contented smile to his face. The face that had forgone so much surgery to make him unrecognizable from the man he once was. His mind drifted back to the past. The terrible past that had treated him so badly. When he was nerdy, self conscious Mark. Mark Clive.

“No!  Please Mike! Don’t do this! You’re hurting me!”  Caroline Clive pleaded to her husband as his strong hands wrapped around her slender neck.  “Don’t make Mark go through this, please, don’t.”

“Mark! Get out of here, go to your room.” Mike Clive yelled, a hint of madness in his deep voice. seven year old Mark hid his round face in his chubby hands and started to cry. “I said GET OUT, do you want me to hurt you too? GO AWAY!” Mark took one last look at his bruised mother and ran to his room. That was when he heard the gun shot. And the scream.

“Damon? Damon, are you okay? You zoned out for awhile there.” Amy’s weak voice questioned with concern, breaking into his thoughts.

“Yes, yes, I am fine, thank you. But you don’t look so good, maybe we should call a doctor?” Damon said, accustomed to this whole situation. This had happened many times. Many times he had gotten revenge. Ridden the world of the beautiful women that caused people so much pain. This would be no different.

Ding Dong. The doorbell rang, echoing through the large house Mark and his foster parents lived in. Mark quickly  put on his glasses and clumsily stumbled towards the door. He opened the large brass door to reveal the beautiful girl about his age that lived next door. She told him she wanted to spend some time with him, get to know him. She figured he would need a friend after his mom had died and father had left.

“So, I wonder why your mother would kill herself. She seemed like a stable woman...” The beautiful blond questioned, staring into his drab brown eyes.

“She didn’t.” He had muttered, unaware of what he was getting himself into. “It was my dad.” The blondes large blue eyes widened even more.

“I knew it.” She had gasped, writing it all down and pulling out her tape recorder. “Thanks, that’s what I needed to know.” She had flashed him a charming smile and raced out his door before he could stop her. The real truth about his mothers death was in the news the next day, written by the beautiful blondes father.

Damon snapped out of his daydream when he heard labored breathing from Amy. He quickly pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911.

“Yes, hello, this is....William Smith, I need to get an ambulance to Le Centrale immediately, my girlfriend is very sick and I think it may be serious.” May be serious? Is serious. She’ll be dead in an hour. Damon thought with an evil grin. Damon waited patiently in his chair until he heard the ambulance sirens blaring closer and closer to the restaurant. He saw faint figures of E.R worker jumping out of the large ambulance, pulling a stretcher behind them. He waved at them trying to look frantic and the E.R workers rushed towards him. By now, Amy was drenched in a hot sweat and holding her stomach in a state of nausea. One of the men quickly lifted her over one shoulder and placed her lightly on the white stretcher. Damon heard them murmur things like “Looks like another flower case”, “Different guy...”  But Damon wasn’t a different guy from the many that were on dates with the beautiful victims. A little hair dye and contacts, maybe a slight stubble, and he looked like a different person altogether. Amy was carried away and one of the men asked Damon if he wanted to go with his girlfriend to the hospital. He figured he had to, if he didn’t want to arouse any suspicions. They got to the hospital and Amy was hooked up to many machines. Damon looked at the screen that showed her pulse rate and saw that it was very faint. It wont be long now....

Kelly Ritchards paced around her empty house, waiting for Amy to call and tell her about her date. Kelly had just broke up with her abusive boyfriend and was untrusting towards new men. She had tried to sound carefree and not worried when Amy had mentioned the new, older man in her life but secretly she was worried. Kelly glanced at her watch. 11:03, she should be home by now. I am going over there. Kelly quickly grabbed the keys to her car and sped over to Amy’s darkened home. She knocked and when she saw the house was vacant, opened the unlocked door.

“Ame? Are you there? Its Kelly.” Kelly called to the empty house. Kelly stepped into the foyer and saw a small flower with large leaves laying on the ground. Kelly was about to pick it up when the telephone rang. Kelly raced up the stairs to answer it, knowing Amy wouldn’t mind since they were best friends.

“Hello?”

“Hello, this is Cecil Hilson from the San Francisco hospital. Is this Mrs. Robbin?”

“Um, no, my name is Kelly Ritchards, I am a friend of the family. What’s going on?” Kelly asked shakily.

“Amy is in the intensive care unit at the moment. She fainted earlier and we think she may have been poisoned.” Cecil said coolly. Kelly gasped.

“I’ll be right over.” Kelly raced outside to her car, forgetting about the stray flower on the ground.