Impure Thoughts #13: A Horror Story

Impure Thoughts #13: A Horror Story

The blood was soaking through the white cover.


The thunder rumbled softly as the paramedics loaded the gurney with the man’s writhing body on it. He was crying loudly, but would soon be placed under an anesthetic, and be operated on, and probably live.

The pain in his heart would never heal.


The day started out sunny, and bright, but afternoon thunderstorms were inevitability in this part of the country at this time of year. Still, the humidity was stifling, and the man stood, handcuffed, with sweat dripping off him as the afternoon wore on.


It was a Friday, and everyone was scrambling to get their loads unloaded, or loaded, or both, and get headed someplace. Several drivers had driven through the truck stop parking lot too fast. It happened all the time actually, and it was a wonder there weren’t more accidents, and wrecked fenders, or worse. Deaths.


The handcuffed driver stood with his head down, as the police officer used a stylus to tap information on his eReport. As soon as he was finished he would send it via wireless signal straight to HQ. In the meantime, he turned on the voice recorder to take the drivers statement.


“Talk. Tell Mr. Police recorder here what happened.” The driver had already waived Miranda, to clear the way for a great many things, and sped up the justice system entirely. It wasn’t like the old days anymore.


“Well,” the driver stammered “I was going to be right up against my appointment time, and didn’t want to get trapped in the parking lot, so I was headed for the exit…”


The story went on and on, and got more discombobulated as it went as the man tried to justify what he had done, and involve as many other parties and factors as possible in an effort to exonerate himself. That angered the policeman and the drivers standing around watching even more.


More paramedics came, and began placing semi-opaque curtains around the lump under the bloody sheet so that when they picked up its various parts, some level of dignity could be maintained. Gawking was simply human nature. Unfortunately and far too often so was the stupidity that caused this whole thing.


After the driver was done yammering, his eyes pleading, sweat now coming in buckets, the officer held up his hand.


“Thank you. We have your statement. Stop talking.” The officer then hit the “save” button, and then “send”.


“Now all we have to do is wait a few minutes, and we’ll see what happens.”


“I hope nothing too bad. I have a wife and kid at home. I really can’t afford to-“


“Shut up. Just. Shut. The. Hell. Up.”


The officer was not far from completely losing his composure on this man, and beating him to within an inch of his life. He’d been a cop for 18 years now, and to him it seemed society got sicker and stupider every day, and it constantly tested his patience. He would surprise himself if he made it to retirement.


“I was just trying to do my job, and make my appointment.” The driver pleaded.


“I said shutup! The paramedic told me that when you hit them one was thrown off your fender, and the other, being smaller, was dragged under! But he didn’t die right away. Witnesses and the coroner both state that he was crushed from the waist down, and bled out. They say that took about five minutes. That’s five minutes of agony, and sheer torture because of your impatience and stupidity!” The officer was getting redder and redder in the face as he spoke, so he stopped himself.


“I didn’t mean to, I, I – “


His intestines were stuck to your drive tires! They say he was crying for his daddy and mommy to fix him! Witnesses also say that he and his daddy had a conversation for a good two minutes! ”


“I’m..sor-“


“DON’T EVEN START TO SAY THAT!” The Officer yelled then turned to walk away to compose himself.


“Not good enough,” one of the observers said. “Got a feeling you’re done, buddy.”


The officer turned around to walk away for a minute, leaving the man to stand there. He started sobbing pitifully. “I…I have a wife and kid…”


The officer turned rapidly and got an inch from his smelly body and yelled, “You killed a SEVEN year old boy going to get lunch with his father! You claim to have kids, so you should have known better! There is NO REASON to drive that fast in a parking lot. Homicide by Complacency or Stupidity is a crime in the year 2020!”


Just then the wireless device on his belt sounded its signal. A third ambulance was also on its way, its distant sirens competing with the increasingly loud thunder, and now the patter of the first few huge drops of summer rain. The officer looked at his device, and then with his eyes blazing in anger looked at the handcuffed driver, and pressed the button to start the recorder again.


“The speedy trial is over. The jury has ruled against you twelve to zero. You are guilty of Homicide by Complacency or Stupidity, and by the power vested in me, on this day July 7, 2020; I am hereby authorized to mete out just punishment, not to include death. Stand over there by the dumpster. In the trash next to it, near those **** jugs.”


The officer took him by the elbow and forcefully moved him to the spot. He then took ten paces back. He turned, looked at the man, and removed his pistol. He took aim at the man’s left kneecap just as the rain started to fall heavily. It would be a short afternoon storm, but strong enough to soak the parking lot, and wash the blood away almost completely. By late afternoon the storm ends, and the stifling humidity returns.


Twelve hours later, a dirty, rattling, ten year old Volvo would be driving through the parking lot at approximately 30 miles an hour around a row of parked trucks. It’s driver in a hurry, maybe even late for an appointment.

There are two people walking across the parking lot.
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