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The last two had been messy. Too messy. It had taken far too long to clean up afterwards, and the whole business had left a bad taste in his mouth. Far better to keep it neat, clinical. Much easier to erase your tracks that way. Even the neatest dead body made enough mess.

The first one, that was a perfect example. He thought that garrotting somebody would be neat. Didn’t expect the piss and the shit. Had to burn his trousers afterwards. Shame; they were decent trousers. Couldn’t keep them after somebody else’s waste had got on them, though. That wasn’t sanitary.

Wasn’t a good way to go, either. Wasn’t fair. Nobody wanted to embarrass themselves like that, not at the end. He wondered if there was any awareness of it? Did they know, as the light faded, that they’d messed themselves?

Didn’t bear thinking about.

Second one, that was a different kind of mess. Time it right, he thought, there wouldn’t be that mucky evacuation problem, or at the very least less of it. And choosing a different method, one that didn’t require him to be quite so close to them, that should mean at least it wouldn’t get on his trousers.

Didn’t realise blood from the neck would spurt that far. Well, he thought, you live and you learn.

Well, some lived. For now.

He pondered on the next one. Could a gunshot really be mistaken for a car’s backfire, he wondered? Was it too risky? There were so many ways to try out, after all.

Perhaps poison. That wouldn’t be so messy, would it?

© Kari Fay

(Author’s Note: The Three Word Wednesday prompts this week are Backfire, Embarrass and Taste. )

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