This is one of Cheech's favorites. It was for a competition (I didn't win) and I thought it was pretty good. For this particular one there was a prompt: We needed to write something about ; three people, a cold winter morning, and an abandoned movie theater. That was all we were given with a word count of 750 or less.
This is where my mind went.... I hope you enjoy it.
Surprise
His step was quick and angry. He pulled his coat tightly around him but it gave little comfort against the bitter wind that stabbed at him. Each breath felt as if his lungs were being scratched by shards of ice. “Winter wonderland!” He muttered and kept trudging through the snow and slush toward the theater. He passed a filthy woman hunching eagerly over a trashcan. She was wildly trying to rescue remnants of a discarded sandwich she’d spotted at the bottom. “Treasures in ALL forms!” she hissed and tried to hide the rotting mess with her oversized parka fanned protectively like a cobra.
“Enjoy your surprise”. He flipped and rounded the corner to the side entrance as instructed. He saw the scruffs in the snow where someone had wrenched the door open. He yanked several times before it surrendered with a harrowing shriek. It stuck stubbornly in the slush. He swore but left it. His pulse jumped and his guts felt hot and sour.
He stepped in and was immediately grateful for the early morning sun peeping through the old windows. It ripped the shadows apart, exposing the skeleton of the old theater. Bare and jagged stood the concession counter, the little ticket booth and down the hall gaped the theater with its sagging frail balcony. Sweat tickled his lip and quickly lined his shirt. He clutched the gun in his pocket and crept down the hall to his meeting, carrying the case of money.
She sat up when she heard the door and daintily perched on the edge of her seat; waiting. The envelope was tucked between two cushions…not these two, mind you, but somewhere in this rundown movie house were the pictures that would make her rich and destroy the man who made her skin crawl. A giggle rumbled in her head but escaped only as an excited puff of mist in the cold dim light of the theater.
“You here?” He bellowed, teeth grinding together. How he loathed her! Soon, it would fade like frost on a sunny window. He was anxious to end this. He wondered how he could have ever cared for this woman let alone touch her.
“Here. Up here.” Her voice was light and insanely annoying. He grimaced and wound himself around the steps of the balcony.
“Did you bring it ALL this time?” She asked coyly. His reply was the case heavily clunking to the floor. She stood and fluidly plucked at it. “Alrighty then.” She sang. But his hand crashed down on hers, his fingers grinding her skin against her bones in a vice-like grip. “Where are they?” He growled. She gasped and tried to twist free but stumbled into him instead. He caught her by bringing the barrel of his gun to her head. Amazed, she stood straight up, a sneer smearing her once pouty pretty lips. “Where!” he demanded and shoved at her with the gun. “Between the seats Lover boy.” She purred attempting to regain herself. He released some of the pressure and inched over to her once occupied seat. He drove his hands between the cushions greedily, clumsily like a horny teenager but came up empty handed. He angrily shook her. She winced and laughed “Not HERE Dummy—but somewhere…” making a wide half circle gesture with her free arm to suggest the entire theater. Her smug face was too much. He twisted her wrist and heard it snap. She yelped and pulled away thumping against the limp railing that once cradled lovebirds during matinees. She flailed and grabbed for something to steady her but merely knocked the pistol from his hand. She tumbled back and he watched her crumple against the old chairs below; twisted and dead.
He sucked his teeth, shrugged and began combing the theater for the damaging photos while the wind cried about all it had witnessed from outside. Frigid drafts poked him accusingly until; with a triumphant sigh, he found the envelope. Collecting the case from the balcony, he strode out, whistling “Winter Wonderland”.
Suddenly there was a pop and heat crawled into his gut. He coughed and turned, incredulous. There was a flash and another crack. He fell to his knees. A warm dark stream bubbled from his mouth. His eyes glazed, his mouth twisted in a shocked grin.
She pried the case and the enveloped from his hands studying them intently between bites of her rancid sandwich. Tan mayonnaise glopped onto the dead man’s coat as she stood over him. “Surprise indeed” she grinned and carried her treasure out into the stunned morning light, pulling her parka protectively around her and tossing the gun into the trash.
