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Bad Splat Fiction - Feel free to add more to the story. Feel free to get OTHER people to add more to the story. Anything goes, be creative.
I didnt mean to kill my client, Its not a profitable past time. He had been standing outside the door to my flat that morning, when I exited at high speed. The landlord, in his infinite wisdome, had hung the door to swing out onto the landing instead of inwards into my shoe box of a flat. This one failing of my landlord was to the detriment of my clients health. I was already late when I woke and so I rushed my preperations for the day. I grabbed the bunch of keys with the little capgun a friend had given me as a joke one birthday, and flew to the door.
I grabbed the handle with a morning gusto and used my momentum to push the door open. Unbeknownst to me, my now late client had been standing on the landing outside my door. With my weight behind it, the door crashed into my client and threw them down the stairs in a long flailing screaming arc. I heard the gut churning splat as their face hit the wall at the landing and then the wet splosh as they slid down the wall and settled on the floor. The manillar envelope that they had in their hand settled onto a step halfway down the stairs.
I stood and gapped. There was no doubt about it. My Client was dead. The large pool of blood and brains tended to indicate this. There seemed to be a LOT of brains and A LOT of blood.
I knelt down and picked up the envelope as I assesed the scene... This was going to be yet another one of those days that I really wished I hadnt slept in on................................................
I didnt mean to kill my client, Its not a profitable past time. He had been standing outside the door to my flat that morning, when I exited at high speed. The landlord, in his infinite wisdome, had hung the door to swing out onto the landing instead of inwards into my shoe box of a flat. This one failing of my landlord was to the detriment of my clients health. I was already late when I woke and so I rushed my preperations for the day. I grabbed the bunch of keys with the little capgun a friend had given me as a joke one birthday, and flew to the door.
I grabbed the handle with a morning gusto and used my momentum to push the door open. Unbeknownst to me, my now late client had been standing on the landing outside my door. With my weight behind it, the door crashed into my client and threw them down the stairs in a long flailing screaming arc. I heard the gut churning splat as their face hit the wall at the landing and then the wet splosh as they slid down the wall and settled on the floor. The manillar envelope that they had in their hand settled onto a step halfway down the stairs.
I stood and gapped. There was no doubt about it. My Client was dead. The large pool of blood and brains tended to indicate this. There seemed to be a LOT of brains and A LOT of blood.
I knelt down and picked up the envelope as I assesed the scene... This was going to be yet another one of those days that I really wished I hadnt slept in on................................................
