Dead Spot

The killings had become too easy. His stealth and speed now almost perfect, he would insert the knife expertly under the ribs and into the heart, extinguishing life in an instant before easing the body to the ground and quickly walking away.

But after seven lives clinically dispatched, he needed to push the boundaries; he needed more buzz.

A shopping mall? Now that would be a challenge. Throngs of people, cctvs everywhere. He gave himself two days to locate all the cameras and identify their blind spots — or dead spots as he thought of them.

It was time. The target, as always, was random, the person simply there in the place he’d chosen. He stepped forward, the knife did its work, and he was on his way.

And leaning over the balcony railing of an upper floor, a man test driving his new camera’s video at full zoom captured everything.

 

©David George Clarke 2021

 

Return to Flash Fiction Archive