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News & Features » November 2015 » “I, Murderer” by Anthony Moore

“I, Murderer” by Anthony Moore

Mondays Are Murder features brand-new noir fiction modeled after our award-winning Noir Series. Each story is an original one, and each takes place in a distinct location. Our web model for the series has one more restraint: a 750-word limit. Sound like murder? It is. But so are Mondays.

This week, Anthony Moore gets some unexpected news.

I, MurdererAnthonyMoore
by Anthony Moore
Airline-Jefferson, Baton Rouge, Louisiana

I’m patiently scoping out my next victim, but I’m distracted. Thanks to the news, I’m not savoring the moment like I normally do.

“I have good news and bad news,” is how it was introduced. Because of it, I’m gonna have to move from Baton Rouge, the city I call home. It’s just an hour from New Orleans, but doesn’t have its big city problems. For instance, when Hurricane Katrina hit, I didn’t have to travel far to see the devastation, but still far enough to not have been one of its victims. It’s great to be able to see a train wreck far enough away to not be wrecked by it.

As I observe my clueless victim, I’m too preoccupied to savor this moment. She’s extraordinarily beautiful, but abuses the power this yields. She uses and toys with people, builds them up to tear them down. And some people would call me a psychopath. Yet they’ll rejoice at her end. Sure, they’ll play nice and stick to society’s script, but silently they’ll celebrate her violent death. She’s offended not just men, but women too. In the way pretty women do to women who aren’t. Things like orchestrating a double date where both men fawn over her while giving the other woman little attention. All to stroke her fragile ego.

Or how she enchants men only to let them down ever so gently, but in that way that’s brutal in its gentleness. Appearing nice on the outside, while loving the pain she’s causing on the inside. And people would say I’m a psychopath.

But I’m helping her, too. Given the insecurities she’s dealing with now in her prime, imagine when her beauty fades, as physical beauty inevitably does.

I love the easy access to New Orleans culture without living amongst its filth, crime, and degradation. I’m most interested in it for its people, but only the ones I victimize. They’re easily discounted amongst typical big city hustle and bustle, plus I live safely away in Airline-Jefferson—the last neighborhood they’ll look for a brutal killer. It’s where you’d look for young, successful, aspiring families and individuals. You might not need to be a multi-millionaire to live here, but there should be a sign that says “those who aren’t at least upper-middle-class and striving for more need not apply.”

Baton Rouge, an ideal killing base. An hour from the big city, yet a formidable city all its own. It’s the state’s capitol, political hub, and second biggest city. Yet still overlooked enough to be an ideal home base for a murderer.

Yet, I’m stressed from the news I received. It was unexpected. See, I thought it might be the type of “good news, bad news” where you’re told you have a potentially terminal disease, but it might be treatable.

My girl told me, “I have good news and bad news. Whether it’s good or bad depends on how you take it.”

Ah. That quirky yet refreshingly insightful way of hers I like. Total opposite of this pretty thing I’m about to put out of its misery.

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out.

She was right about the way it was good and bad. It kept changing depending on my emotional mood swings. Me, a parent. When we talked about parenthood I said, “Let’s open ourselves to the possibilities and see what happens.” I sounded supportive and even somewhat romantic. But I only said it to end the conversation and have raw sex. I figured I’d pull out in time to not be responsible for any pregnancy.

But now she’s pregnant! Children can distract from murder. Thinking about it is distracting me now! I’ve successfully made it into my victim’s home. Everything’s going according to plan. We’re alone, she’s chloroformed, tied up, and now I wait. I need her fully conscious. How else can I see life draining from her eyes? That’s when I climax.

Yet, I can’t stop thinking about the burdens of a baby. Where will I find time for murder? The waiting, observing and planning can be time consuming. She might believe my cover stories now, but what about when the baby needs baby things. You know, things like babysitting.

Well since she’s pregnant I guess I’ll do right and marry her.But I’d rather live in a state that didn’t need a Supreme Court ruling to recognize same-sex marriage. Fortunately, a change of scenery is exactly what this gal needs. Particularly in light of my propensity for murder.


ANTHONY MOORE  has a master’s degree in business administration. He’s authored a how to guide for winning college scholarships entitled Scholarship Rich as well as What the Hell?, a very politically incorrect comic strip. He’s addicted to writing and storytelling, and he’s not going to rehab. He gets his fix by writing stories, with no twelve-step program in sight. As a result of his binging, he’s currently looking for a publisher for his multi-volume, occult and conspiracy novel entitled The Kill Illuminati Chronicles, for which excerpts are available for reading on his website at http://anthonydmoore.com/click-read-excerpts-forthcoming-novel-kill-illuminati-chronicles/

Hit him up on Twitter: @AntMo4RL.


Submissions for the Mondays Are Murder series are currently closed. Please visit our submission page for detailed information.

Posted: Nov 16, 2015

Category: Original Fiction, Mondays Are Murder | Tags: , , , , , , ,