Angler: Kimc

Submission to a Becca's Roots

Dressing for tonight's opening at Sublime, Becca thought, was going to be a royal pain.  She closed the slider, and walked back in toward the bedroom.

Opening the louvered closet door, she surveyed the damage: torn hems, frayed seams and the occasional red wine stain.  Oh well, basic black dress, right?  It was a cliche, but then, so was this gallery gig..  There was a small rip across the back shoulder blade, but she could cover that up with the silver, gauze wrap.  Who would know? ...

Submission to a Iced

His mind was racing.  Damn, that tick below his left eye was starting to jump.   But before he could start thinking about who might be framing him, he had to get this gory story straight.

"Wait a minute," Icepick said, grabbing Dave's arm.  "I thought that was a bullet hole."

"Yeah, that would be the usual around these parts.  But no, man - it's just a hole. No bullet and, no blood - because Lilli was already gone when she met the icepick, head-on."

There's a lot of weird...

Submission to a Iced

What did she mean "just trying to protect my investments?"  Was she trying to decide for herself  if Ice had a hand in Lilli's murder, or was Pinky the one trying to set him up?  Why would she want to set him up? His heart was beating so hard he thought it was going to slam right out of his chest.

"Gotta get a grip on yourself, Ice," he muttered to himself, as he turned away from the parking lot and pushed through the door into the warehouse. Better look around, he thought:  He had t...

Submission to a Vampires' Buffet

Good intentions were a relatively new development. They’d been in Chicago since ’48 - the fat days when the city was full of people looking for their piece of post-war prosperity.  John and Julie worked  the bars with a single-minded devotion to nothing but their own thirst, inventing back stories to fit the dreams of their victims.  But what they wanted didn’t come from a bottle, and it never took much effort for the beautiful young couple to lure the unsuspecting into the night. Sometime...

Submission to a Shards

James grabbed her arm as she started to cross the threshold.

"Oh no, you don't," James said.  "We're calling the police. There could be someone still in there."

"James - I am the police.  Now let me go," Mariissa said, shaking off his arm and  taking a step into the torn-up living room.  She already felt pretty silly about the scream, and needed to convince herself that graduating from the police academy  last month had not been a complete waste of time. She yanked her service ...