Short Fiction Blog

The next night, Susan and Andrew waited until the owner of the drug store next to her dad’s shop left. After his car drove out of sight, Andrew set off to pry the back door of the shop open. He made sure to make enough noise that it drew her father to investigate.

He had only pushed the door open a few inches when Susan’s father came into view, ball bat in hand.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing,” Susan’s father demanded as he raised the bat above his head.

“I’ve come to teach you a lesson long overdue,” Andrew replied, before he slammed the door into the man and knocked him down.

Susan’s father tried to scramble away, but Andrew put a foot in his chest and pressed until he was still. He kept pressing until the man’s face turned red.

“Hold on a minute, Andrew,” Susan whispered from the doorway.

Andrew released the pressure on her father’s chest and stepped back. Susan knelt at her father’s side, looking him over closely.

“Hello, Father,” She spat.

“Susan?” her father wheezed, disbelief clouding his eyes. “What’s going on here?”

“You are going to get your just deserts, Daddy Dearest,” Susan answered.

“I don’t understand,” her father stammered.

“You don’t? Well, let me make it clear then,” Susan told him, and then turned to Andrew and smiled. “Show him, Andrew.”

Andrew stepped forward and brought the crow bar down on Susan’s fathers arm. They heard the bone crack before he screamed.

“Remember the time you sent mom to the hospital with a fractured elbow?” Susan asked.

Andrew brought the crow bar down again on the fallen mans knee. His agonized screams swarmed the shop.

“And the time you cracked her kneecap with the golf club?” Susan asked again before she motioned for Andrew to continue. “I remember that one left her limping for almost a year,” she whispered as Andrew brought the crowbar down once more, this time on her dad’s ankle.

The pain from that blow was enough to jackknife her father into a sitting position. His screams were mixed with pleas for mercy.

“I don’t remember that ever working for Mom,” Susan quipped. “So why should it work for you?”

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” her father beseeched. “Please, Susan, don’t do this! I can’t handle much more. I’ll never lay a hand on your mother again, I promise!”

“Oh, I know you won’t,” Susan informed him, and then stepped back as Andrew swung the crowbar again.

The last blow struck his kidneys and threw him onto his stomach where he writhed in agony.

Susan bent close to his ear and whispered, “Remember the Christmas we spent in the emergency room after you ruptured Mom’s kidney?”

“Are you thinking of all the other times, Dad?” she sneered. “All the pain you caused over the years.”

“How does it feel, you sorry bastard!” she yelled.

“I’m so glad your shop is on the outskirts of town with only the drugstore beside it, Dad,” Susan smirked. “I’ve dreamed of making you scream for years. Just the way Mom did.”

Her father turned onto his side and begged, “Please stop! I can’t take anymore!”

Susan retorted, “Is that right? The big bad man can’t take anymore.” She kicked him in the side before continuing, “Not as strong as you thought you were, huh?”

“Imagine how Mom felt,” she screamed.

 “I always knew she was the strong one in the family,” she sneered a few minutes later and walked to where Andrew was standing.

“I don’t want to listen to him whine anymore,” she said as she looked back at the lump on the floor. “Finish it.”

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