Word count 100
The man in the dark knee length trench coat had travelled miles from his home on that moonlit night. He knew his way well from experience. His luck was good as always, there was a couple in a new sedan, her with her hand in his lap, kissing him on the face. Perfect.
He pulled open the door and as she pulled away from the man he saw the blade in the man’s chest. Next, he was in the street bleeding out. She smiled down at him “You thought that you were the only serial killer in town”.
Detritus was looking for “final girl” stories of 100 words or less. This is my contribution. I’d like to make a longer version to get published somewhere else.