Bloom of Death

My contribution to Three Word Wednesday. Hope y'all like it.



“Such a delicate flower. So sweet and fragrant,” the masked man whispered.

Nancy lay as still as she could in the trunk. If she didn’t move, maybe he wouldn’t notice she was awake. She didn’t know exactly where she was, but knew it was a forest. She could hear the night bugs singing to each other.

“Wake up, little flower,” the man said as he shook Nancy’s shoulder.

When Nancy didn’t move, he just reached in the trunk and scooped her up like she weighed nothing, and then started walking into the woods.

Nancy hung limp in his arms, waiting for a chance to do something. She couldn’t just let this madman kill her! She’d become jaded towards life recently, but she still wanted to live. A cheating boyfriend and a dead-end job were nothing compared to this.

Think, Nancy! What can you do? There has to be something, her brain screamed as the man carried her farther into the woods.

When her captor tripped over a fallen log, she saw her chance. As she was rolling away after he dropped her, she grabbed a limb and swung at his head. The man saw it just in time, turning so the impact hit his shoulder instead.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said with a smirk, walking towards her. “Now you’ll have to pay.”

Nancy tried to run, but her legs were stiff from being cooped up in the trunk so long. She only got a few feet before he caught her. She screamed as loud as she could which seemed to amuse him.

“Scream all you want. There’s nobody out here tonight but you and me,” he informed her with a smile.

Nancy kicked and scratched with all her might, but it did no good. He was just too strong. He finally got tired of the fight and hit her over the head.

The last thing Nancy saw was her captor’s feet and a shovel propped against a giant oak tree.

***

“I don’t remember this from our last hike in these woods, do you?” Jacob asked his brother.

“No, and we would have remember that. It’s beautiful,” his brother replied looking at the blood red flower.

“I wonder how it grows under the shade of this old oak.”