Pile of Shorts - 750 Word Project

I would like to express my thanks to my editor RF Fast who helped me produce this story. It was written for the 2026, 750 Word Challenge, details of which can be found in LITEROTICA NEWS on the landing page.

Below the **** line is exactly 750 words.

*****

The room was silent now, though the acrid smell of gun smoke and the sweet pungent tang of blood still filled the air. The cacophony of noise that had shattered the serenity had passed, all that was left was the aftermath.

It had happened so quickly. One moment the two lovers stood at the kitchen counter as the coffee brewed chatting about their plans for the weekend. Then in an instant there was the sound of breaking glass as two men clad in leather jackets and brandishing guns, smashed through the patio doors. There was no time to argue, to reason, to ask why, just time to react, split seconds to respond.

The outcome was swift and brutal. On another day, in another time the outcome may have been different, the result the opposite to what it was now, but perhaps Lady Luck had smiled down on the contest that day.

Reactions honed by hours of practise and muscle memory driving actions faster than the brain could think meant the gun on the table almost leapt into her hand. That split second giving her the edge and ultimately deciding the outcome.

Julie shifted her gaze between the two bodies that were slumped against the white wall of the apartment. Above them were twin red smear trails, the stark evidence of their bodies downward journeys a few moments before. The 9mm bullets had spat from Julie's Browning in quick succession, snuffing out the threat in an instant. The pair of neat round holes in the centres of their foreheads denied the mess that was previously the back of their heads and now a macabre decoration on the pristine walls.

Both the men had fired once and Julie knew where one bullet had gone from the searing pain in her left arm. A cursory inspection and the steady drip of fluid from the shattered coffee pot behind her, told her instantly the bullet had passed through, but there was still the question of where the second shot had gone.

Shifting her gaze to her right, Julie felt her whole world tear apart as she took in the ruined chest of her Swedish lover. She was slumped against the cabinets and trying to speak through the bubbles of blood that were trickling down from the side of her mouth.

"Jag älskar dig," the dark-haired woman managed to burble in her native Swedish, her breathing laboured with effort.

"And I love you Nilla," Julie whispered as the tears streamed down her face and her heart threated to burst.

Cradling Nilla's head to her chest Julie stroked her hair as she whispered soft words of comfort. She was rewarded with a faint smile but then she saw the flicker of pain deep in her lover's eyes.

"Ssssh love, it will be OK" Julie lied as she watched the light fade from her soul mate's eyes and the shallow breathing finally ceased.

Julie rocked the body as it grew cold, her heart torn into a million pieces, the sobs racking her own body as the pain washed through her. She wanted to scream and vent her rage against the people who had sent killers to her house but knew that would come later. Instead, she gently stroked the face that she had kissed a thousand times. The eyes that had stared into hers as her fingers had brought her to countless orgasms were still and glassy now.

Then as Julie thought she couldn't breathe, nor did she care if she never breathed again, a strident noise started to pierce her brain with an insistent demand for her attention.

Julie sat bolt upright in her bed, the alarm still ringing by her head demanding she wake for another day. It took her a moment to realise that what had just happened was a dream, or more accurately a nightmare, yet the tears that poured down her cheeks were real and the pillow wet from her anguish.

It had been three years since she had spoken with her online lover and what had happened to cause Nilla to never log on again Julie never knew. This was just one of the many dream scenarios Julie had, and each time the pain when she woke was as real as the love she had felt for that woman over the years.

As Julie stood in the shower letting the hot water cascade over her body, she whispered softly to herself, "The scars may heal but the pain never goes away."