I wrote and posted this on Blogster a few years ago and thought it might be appropriate for Halloween.

REVENGE

Tom peered in the window and saw the old lady rocking quietly. The only sounds were her clicking knitting needles and a buzzing fly that had come in through the open door. He knew at once that this was the best chance he would have to get even with the old biddy. He could never forgive her for what she had done to him.
There was a time when he thought he loved her but over time she had poisoned that love and all he felt for her now was hatred and contempt. It had started with the gifts he would leave at the door for her. There was never a card. He was sure she would know who had left them for her. The ungrateful bitch threw every one of his precious gifts in the trash but he gave her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she thought the gifts were from that drunken sot across the street who was always leering at her when she was in her garden, tending her vegetable patch.
Tom had been delighted when the old lady asked him to move in with her. The deal was that she would provide room and board and he would provide companionship. Now he understood. She only wanted him close to torment him. She had such a foul temper. On more than one occasion she had thrown things at him just for nodding off on her sofa. Not to mention all those cold nights she had locked him out of the house for coming home late.
The final straw was Catrina. She had been Tom's true love. They were soul mates planning to spend the rest of their lives' together until that witch had sent Trina away. Tom wasn't sure how the old crone had done it. For all he knew his beautiful love had been sold into slavery. Maybe even murdered. He felt the fury rise up in him as he quietly slipped inside. He crept slowly through the room until he was right beside her. The old lady screamed as he leaped on her, slashing with the weapons he had brought with him. His attack was swift, lasting no more than a few seconds and he dashed from the house with surprising speed.
The old woman sat there in horror and disbelief at what had just happened. With trembling fingers she reached down and touched the shredded remains of her sweater. The one she was knitting for her grandson and sobbed, "That damn cat."
THE END

I suppose I should copyright this too.

Copyright © 2006 Nittineedles