Mr. Sunshine
/“Mr. Sunshine has struck again,” the news reporter said from Bree’s TV. “Another woman—his tenth victim—has been found. Like the others, she was bound, strangled, facing east, and her eyes…” the reporter blinked, shaking her head.
“She shows signs of the same torture as his previous victims,” the co-reporter said. “Time of death, again, correlates to early morning hours.”
Bree shut off the television. “What kind of crazy fu—”
Hinges squeaked and she spun around. Her breath caught as she watched her closet door swing open. A man rushed from behind it and tackled her, shoving a wet cloth over her nose and mouth.
…..
Bree jolted awake.
A man’s face hovered before her; his mouth agape in a broken-toothed grin. Thick spittle seeped over his cracked lips.
She flinched, her head hitting the chair back. Plastic binding sliced into her wrists and ankles as she twisted away. Her eyes darted from her bedroom walls to the man, then to blood-drenched zip-ties securing her arms to the chair.
She screamed a muffled wheeze. Cloth filled her mouth, biting into her cheeks and tongue.
“Shh, my sweet.” The man flicked the tip of her nose. “Boop.”
Bree wrenched against her bindings; blood oozed from beneath the unforgiving ties.
“Oh, sweetness,” the man said tracing a finger over her chin. “Mr. Sunrise is giving you a gift. I’m freeing you.” He opened his mouth, flicking his tongue between jagged teeth. “Free like me.”
He bent, wrapping his lips around her nose and blew. His rancid breath rushed past her nostrils, filling her lungs, then escaping through her gagged mouth.
He leaned back. “I’m going to breathe new life into you.”
Bile filled Bree’s throat. Tears spilled from her eyes.
“I’ve been watching you,” he said. “You rarely leave your house. You’re depressed.” He kissed the top of her head and another scream ripped from her. “I was depressed too, love. Until the day I woke up dead.”
Her eyes snapped to his.
“Yes, I killed myself.” He dragged a finger along a raised scar encircling his neck. “Hanged myself. But…!”
He jumped back; his arms flung wide. “I awoke to the sun!”
He spun in a circle, then yanked a string attached to the blinds covering her bedroom window, cascading the room in yellow light and gasped. “Almost time!”
He bent, kneeling in front of her, reaching into his pocket. “I was visited by an angel. I must save the sad, desperate people like me.” He licked her pinky knuckle, then whispered, “Wake them up.”
Vomit filled Bree’s mouth and dribbled down her chin.
Mr. Sunshine looked into her eyes, holding up four safety pins. “The day I woke up dead, the sunrise filled me with magic. You’ll wake up dead today. But you need to see. SEE the magic.”
He pinched the lashes above her left eye and tugged as he unhinged a pin and said, “Time to wake up.”
Bree screeched as smooth silver pierced her eyelid.
By L.L. Asher
From: United States