Where's Rachel? A 100-Word Horror Story
Nobody would have spotted him up on his roof in the dead of night if he hadn’t loosened that damn tile and sent it crashing downwards. Now he was reattaching it.
‘How’s it looking?’ his neighbour called.
‘Fine,’ he grumbled. ‘Almost done.’
‘Where’s your wife today?’
He’s asking too many questions. Why couldn’t he just drop it? Accept the dull regularity of his miserable life and move on? He had to get involved. Too nosy.
Done. Satisfied with the repair, he climbed down. Nobody would ever look for Rachel’s body in the walled-up chimney. And there was room for another.
This story was awarded 5th place in its category in round 1 of this year's NYC Midnight 100-word microfiction contest. Writers must create an original story of no more than 100 words using a randomly assigned genre, action, and word. I was given the genre of horror, the action of repairing a roof, and the word "regular".