MURDER AND LOVE: A KILLER'S GUIDE

I pushed the door open, the little bell on top ringing softly as I walked into the store. The faint smell of coffee hits my nakedness as it lingers in the corner. I was welcomed by the familiar chill of the air conditioner. The place was bustling, as usual.

The snacks and chips lined on the shelves stretched from one end to another. The bright fluorescent light flickered overhead, revealing the cramped aisles filled with middle-aged individuals searching for whatever was on their lists. The cooler section at the back caught my eye—rows of drinks, everything from sodas to energy drinks.

A couple of regulars stood in front, debating over which brand of bottled water to pick. I could tell they were in a hurry, the way they glanced at their watches and shuffled their feet. No one ever lingered here for long. Near the corner, the freezer section had the usual mix of frozen dinners and ice cream. I paused for a moment, feeling a little guilty for eyeing the ice cream; it was late, and I still had a shift ahead of me. But the thought of something cold and sweet was tempting.

I walked towards the backroom door when Samuel waved at me with a half-smile, his hands busy wrapping a pack of gum for a customer. The register beeped repeatedly as people came and went, some grabbing quick snacks, others piling items into their baskets like they had no time to spare. It wasn't much, but it was home. I would soon be taking over after his shift ended— which is 20 minutes from now. I returned a faint smile and waved back at him as I headed to the backroom.

I ran my hands through my head as I changed into my work outfit. There was a mirror ahead, I stared deep into the mirror. The shirt Mr. Shepherd had given me looked worn out. I knew he was cheap—but not that cheap. It wasn't glamorous, but it was a job. And right now, a job was what I needed. Helping my family is the only way to be useful given the recent conditions. We have been in debt for a while now. After my sister's occasional visit to the hospital, the bills have been piling and everybody has been trying to support the family the way they can. My older sister took a job at the local clinic to help old people out. Julie and Janet—the twins, they both work as teacher at the local Middle school to support my mom and dad in paying the debt.

I didn't want to feel like a burden so I decided to take up a job, and thanks to Mr Shepherd he was very kind to offer me one. It has been rough for all of us but we still love one another and I know it will get better soon. I tied my hair into a ponytail and placed the butterfly clip in the middle to hold it up. I looked at the mirror and sighed making my way to the door.

The cold air hit my skin as I walked up to Samuel to take over from him. I slipped on my tag which had my initials on them...Khloe Miller. It was now 9:30 pm, I stared at the clock that stood over the door. It was now less crowded than it was only a few people left in the store. Since I have the night shift I would have to close up the shop by 10 pm.

Thank God I brought my bike. I was about to leave the counter to pack up when the door pushed open. It was Wilder. He threw me a light-hearted smile as he came over to where I stood. Wilder. I knew him well. He was a regular at the shop.

Wilder had always carried an effortless charm. In his early 30s, he looked years younger, his slim, muscular frame giving him an athletic grace. His skin glowed with an almost unnatural softness, as though it caught the sun even in the shadows. That charming smile of his—it could disarm even the most guarded of hearts. He had been a rare warmth in a world that so often felt cold. He was kind to everyone, especially to my family, he seemed to go above and beyond, understanding our struggles without ever making them feel pitied. His wife, Olivia, and their two kids were always around, and I could see the resemblance in his children. He reminded me of my uncle, hell I even consider him to be one.

"Hey, Khloe, almost done?" Wilder's voice broke through my thoughts, and I looked up. His blue eyes, the color of an overcast sky, were friendly, and his smile was kind.

"Yeah, just finishing," I said, returning the smile.

"Getting late, huh?" he said, his gaze lingering just a little too long. It didn't feel off, though. He was just making small talk, as always.

"You could say that," I replied.

"Well," he said, pausing as he zipped up his jacket, "I'm heading that way. I could give you a ride home if you'd like. Save you the walk.

"I hesitated for a moment, only because I wasn't used to accepting favors from anyone—let alone someone I barely knew outside of these walls. But it wasn't like I was thinking it through too deeply. Wilder had always been a regular, someone I trusted. His family was well-known in our neighborhood. Plus, he lived just down the street, so it made sense. I could leave my bike in the shop though.

"That's nice of you, Wilder. Sure," I said, already heading toward the door.

"Good, let me just get my regulars and we will be on our way then" He smiled at me before leaving to get his usual.

"The store will be closing in 20 minutes. Please hurry and get your stuff before time runs out. Thank you for shopping at Shepherd's place" I spoke softly into the mic which had been lying on the counter.

I scanned Wilder's things and rang him up.

Thank God there were only two customers left. I quickly checked their items and wrapped them up. I had finished cleaning everywhere earlier knowing I only had to close the shop. I signaled to Wilder, he came standing from the chair I had given him earlier. We both headed outside as I closed the door and slid the shutters down before chaining it up. We headed towards his car. His car was parked a few spots away, a dusty sedan with the faint smell of leather and gasoline.

The drive wasn't far, just a short hop through the quiet streets of our neighborhood. It was routine. Safe. I felt safe. But as I slid into the passenger seat, something felt... strange. As Wilder started the engine, a strange silence filled the car. The hum of the engine was the only sound, but it was interrupted by his voice, low and almost casual.

"So, how's the college application process going?" he asked, glancing at me with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. I shifted in my seat, unsure if I should open up or keep my thoughts to myself. But with him, I always felt like I had to answer like he was waiting for something.

"It's... okay. I've been busy with work, so I haven't had much time to think about it. I'll figure it out," I replied, keeping my tone neutral.

"You should think about it more. You've got potential, Khloe. You could go far if you focus. " I met his gaze for a second, then looked away. There was something off about his voice, but I couldn't quite place it.

"Thanks," I muttered, playing with the hem of my sleeve, trying to push the awkwardness aside. He kept driving, but the silence between us felt heavier.

"You know," he continued, his tone softer now, "you've grown up. I remember when you were just a little thing, running around in your mom's kitchen. Now you're all grown up and starting to figure things out. You've come a long way."I blinked, thrown off guard. There was something in the way he said it, almost too familiar.

"Yeah, well, life kind of does that to you, right?" Wilder's chuckle didn't match the tension in his eyes.

"Yeah, it does. But some of us never forget what we see in people like you. You're special, Khloe. You don't even realize how much you've got ahead of you." I felt a chill run down my spine.

The way he looked at me now wasn't the same as before. There was something darker, almost predatory, hidden beneath his words. I had to force myself to speak, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't know what you mean," I said staring at the rearview mirror outside the window.

"You'll figure it out," he said, his voice almost too soft. "I know you will. You've always had a way of surprising people."

I turned my head to glance at him, the tension in my chest tightening. I wasn't sure if I should say something or stay quiet, but his words lingered. There was something in the air now—something I still couldn't quite place.

"I guess we all have to find our way," I said, trying to keep the conversation light. He nodded, but his gaze lingered on me for a moment too long, his eyes sharp and unblinking.

"You've always been capable. I just don't think you realize how much."

The silence stretched between us, and I felt the weight of his words hanging in the air like a fog. It was like he was saying something more, but not quite. Something unspoken. I stared out the window, feeling the weight of his gaze still on me, though he had turned his focus back to the road.

As we continued driving down the lonely road, the atmosphere in the car shifted. The rhythmic hum of the tires against the asphalt was the only sound, but something felt off. I could feel Wilder's eyes on me more than I cared to admit, even though I was pretending to be lost in my thoughts.

Suddenly, without warning, he slammed his foot on the brake, jerking the car to a stop in the middle of the quiet road. My heart skipped a beat as the car's engine sputtered into silence.

"Wilder? What are you—"He didn't answer immediately, instead turning to face me fully. His eyes were intense, focused—too focused. There was something darker there, something unfamiliar.

"I've been meaning to tell you something for a while now," he said, his voice low, almost soothing. "I've always admired you, you know? You're different from everyone else." He paused, as though gathering his thoughts.

"And I don't think you know how much effect you have on me." I swallowed hard, my pulse quickening.

"Wilder, I don't—"

"I've watched you grow up, you know?" he continued, ignoring my protest. "And every year, I've seen you turn into something... special. Something beautiful." He leaned in closer, and I could smell the faint musk of his cologne, his breath warm on my face.

"I think I've always felt something for you. Something deeper than what I've let on."A lump formed in my throat, and I instinctively backed away, my palms suddenly clammy.

"Wilder, you're married. I'm not—"Before I could finish my sentence, his hand shot out, gripping my arm with a surprising force.

His eyes were dark now, his lips parted in a grin that didn't reach his eyes."I don't care about that," he whispered, his voice tinged with something sinister. "I know you feel it too, Khloe. You don't have to fight it."I recoiled, my breath catching in my throat.

But it was too late. Before I could react, he was already leaning in, his lips coming dangerously close to mine.

"Wilder, no!" I tried to push him away, but his hand shot out, holding me in place. His lips pressed against mine suddenly, forceful and unexpected. His hand grabbed the back of my head, pulling me toward him. I stiffened, my body reacting before my brain could catch up.

My pulse spiked as I tried to push away, but he was too strong. Panic surged within me, and in a split second, I acted. I bit down hard on his bottom lip, feeling the sharp sting of teeth sinking into his flesh. Wilder pulled back in shock, hissing in pain.

"What the hell?!" he snapped, eyes burning with anger. I could feel the heat rising in my chest, the dear turning into anger.

"You're sick" I hissed, trying to push him away. Without warning, his hand lashed out, slapping me across the face with a sickening force. The impact made my vision blur for a second, my cheek stinging from the blow.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be," he spat, his voice low and dangerous. I barely had time to react before his hand went to the glove compartment.

In a flash, he retrieved a small cloth and pressed it to my face. The smell hit me—foul, chemical, overwhelming. I gasped, trying to pull away, but it was already too late. My body went limp. I couldn't fight it anymore. Darkness closed in, and everything went black.

Present Day

I woke up drenched in sweat, the echoes of Wilder's voice still rattling in my head. It wasn't the first time I'd relived that night, and it wouldn't be the last. The nightmares always felt so vivid, like I was trapped in that moment all over again. I dragged myself off the bed and headed to the kitchen.

A splash of cold water to the face cleared the fog, and then I dressed in my usual uniform—dark, professional, no frills. I wasn't here to be noticed, I was here to do the job. With a mug of black coffee, I stood over the counter and let out a loud sigh.

I dropped the mug in the sink as my eyes found something. It hadn't been there before. I looked over to see this wrapped item, it had a red and silver gift wrap around it and had my name on the tag which was tied to the neck.

"What is this?" I ripped off the tag and opened the wrap, I felt a cold shiver down my spine. Why is this here? Why are you here? I shivered as I picked up the piece of cloth, it had contained the ashes of the man who had scarred me and now someone has found out. But I was precise, I had planned for years, who could have seen or followed me? Why didn't they report it to the police?

Questions lingered in my head as I felt the room spin around me. I grabbed a chair to sit as I ran my hands across my face. Then something caught my attention. A piece of paper sitting on the floor. It must've fallen from the wrap when I opened it. I picked it up and opened it, and a lump formed at the back of my throat.

Every Fire Leaves Smoke Behind.

The room suddenly felt too small, the walls closing in with an unbearable sense of surveillance. I looked around as if expecting the shadows to come alive, to betray the sender's presence.

But there was only silence—the kind that gnawed at my thoughts and whispered my name in the empty spaces. A flicker of resolve sparked in my chest, forcing me to breathe deeply.

If this was a message, then it was a challenge. I never backed down from challenges. I slipped the note into her pocket and crushed the cloth in my fist.

My lips curled into a faint, dangerous smile.

"Smoke fades, too," I muttered to the empty room.

With one last glance at the ashes on my table, I grabbed her coat, locking away any trace of doubt. It wasn't just about Wilder anymore.

It was about whoever thought they could haunt me—and what I'd do when I found them.