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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1258670-Ambrosias-Justice
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by IdaLin Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1258670
Ambrosia is being stalked by a new co-worker. She takes Justice into her hands.
Ambrosia was perturbed. Not just annoyed or merely aggravated. Downright perturbed. She had met Alvin, the new guy, after work about three weeks ago. Her friend Lucinda had suggested that everyone should go out to the pub to celebrate his being a new employee and all. Ever since that night he had been a nuisance to Ambrosia.

She was beginning to think his interest in her was on the verge of being unhealthy, since she had made it clear she had no interest in him other than as a co-worker/business associate. Obviously he wasn’t one to take not-so-subtle hints.

She had told him point-blank that she wasn’t interested. She had even told him he was creeping her out and to quit following her around. Lucinda thought it was cute, at least a little.

“Aren’t you the least bit flattered that he thinks you’re ‘The One’?” She laughed. “He hasn’t sent you any threatening emails, or sent you any weird tokens of love or anything warped and serial-killer like, has he?”

“No, and I’m not flattered at all. Would you be flattered by some creepy guy you just met stalking you?” She was not amused.

Ambrosia saw less and less humor in the situation every day. He still followed her, but he wasn’t trying to engage her in conversations anymore, since she had ‘accidentally’ dumped a large cup of coffee on him. She was very glad they didn’t work in the same department.

He even followed her home on several occasions. He just watched her go in the house and then went away. She never really felt afraid or worried, just really angry and frustrated.

He had followed her home yet again, and had sat parked across the street staring at her house for about an hour smoking before he finally left. She was past angry now and had become livid with rage. The next morning she was fed up enough to confront him.

“Hey, Alvin, why were you hanging around my place yesterday? Don’t you have something better to do with your time than to bother someone who doesn’t even like you? Seriously, I’m not being mysterious and playing hard-to-get. I don’t want you to try harder. I want you to leave me alone! Stop stalking me! If I see you following me again, I will call the cops.” She delivered her caustic speech in front of several other employees for more humiliating impact.

It was Friday, so she and Lucinda went for a couple of drinks after work that night. Ambrosia was feeling a little stressed after her confrontation.

“Well, maybe he’ll get the message this time. You did it in front of people? Hah, I’ll bet he was beet red.” Lucinda said after Ambrosia told her what she’d done.

“I guess. I don’t know, Luce, he just kept smiling like it was the most wonderful thing that I was finally talking to him, or something. It was even creepier than when he followed me home.”

“You didn’t tell me he followed you home! Ambrosia! He is stalking you. I just thought he was bothering you here at work! You can’t let him do that. He really may be some kind of psychopath.” Lucinda cried, alarmed.

Then her eyes widened, “No way. Am, he’s here. He followed you here.” She looked at her friend with concern.

Ambrosia sighed. Alvin didn’t approach them. He just kept shooting looks at Ambrosia that made her skin crawl.

Lucinda asked if she’d be all right going home alone. Ambrosia assured her she'd be okay. She called a cab and hugged her friend before she got in.

“I’ll be fine, thanks.” She smiled.

As she got out of her cab, she saw his car pulling away down the street. She guessed she was going to have to Do Something about him, now.

Monday morning came, and when Lucinda told her Alvin hadn’t come to work, or even called in, she just shrugged. Ambrosia wasn’t really surprised.

*Note6**Note6**Note6*


Friday night after she had gone inside her house, she had watched the street for a while. He came back, as she thought he might. He sat out in his car and smoked two cigarettes, then got out and went to his trunk. She was horrified by what he took out. He removed what looked like a rope, a large bag, and strangely, a bouquet of flowers, and then he got back in the front with the items and drove slowly away.

Ambrosia thought Okay, that’s it. So he thinks I’m prey, does he? Poor Alvin. Hah! Picked a bad target, didn’t ya?

She went to the attic and found her mother’s old book. It was covered in dust. The heavy book had a dark leather cover and gilded pages. She smiled to herself as she gently brushed off the dust.

She went downstairs and looked outside. Alvin was crossing her lawn from the back alley. She made a small, vexed sound. Now she was very angry. He must have taken off his shoes to climb the fence and to be silent, as he was barefoot. He was looking around and walking quickly toward the house. Ambrosia began to read from her mother’s book.

Instantly he stopped. A length of sharp barbed wire wrapped itself around his leg, springing from the grass like a serpent catching a mouse. She went out onto the porch and silently stared at him with her arms wrapped around the book as he screamed from the barbs entering his flesh.

When he saw her he quieted, then he said, in a hoarse voice, “I knew you wanted me to come, after your kind words this afternoon. Sweet Ambrosia, nectar of the gods. You are the pre-ordained bride I have longed for. I must have you. I have a nice spot picked out for you in my garden. The others were weak. You will be better. Come, my love. I have snagged myself in some wire you left in the yard, help me untangle my leg and we can be together.” He started to hobble toward the porch.

She stared, stunned horror at his words contorting her pretty face into a grimace. She shook herself and began to read again. Now smaller wires spang up from the grass like crickets released from under a log. Tipped with nail-like barbs they embedded in the flesh of his feet. Two in one foot and three in the other arose from a glowing pentagram that materialized in the grass as she read. He gasped as they struck, but still tried to move toward her.

“Is your yard booby-trapped? That’s very wise. Good to keep out trespassers.” He praised her, smiling maniacally.

She knew she had to complete the incantation, but bothered by his prior speech, she first asked him, as sweetly as she could manage, “How many others are there? And where are they? I am a jealous woman. I cannot be just part of a harem!”

He smiled, thinking she was accepting his gruesome offer. “Ah, my love, the others won’t be a bother, they are so quiet in their rose beds. You see I have brought you flowers from them.” He waved the bouquet he was still carrying.

Sickened, she controlled her stomach. Between the drinks and this display she was forced to witness, it was roiling on the verge of emptying. She knew this was right, though. She knew what she had to do. She read from the book, finishing the incantation.

A shrill whine could be heard breaking the stillness of the night. A spinning, whirling blade came whipping across the grass. It sliced cleanly through Alvin’s lower legs separating them from his body.

He was whisked away from her yard back to his home and into his basement. His body hung from the ceiling with the rope he had brought for her.

*Note6**Note6**Note6*


By the end of the week, the talk around work was of the serial killer who had been in their midst. They all talked of how normal he had seemed.

Lucinda was horrified. “Am, I am so sorry I made jokes about that guy. Oh my God, you could have been his next victim! I am so glad he didn’t decide to take you, too!’ She hugged Ambrosia.

“It’s okay, Luce. Nobody could have known. At least he found Justice.” Ambrosia smiled at her friend.

*Note6**Note6**Note6*


Alvin’s feet were a silent testament to the madman hanging above them that investigators would later attribute to the man’s obvious loss of sanity. His computer hummed to life that night, printing the story of his macabre pastime onto a sheet of paper, a suicide note, telling of graves under the rosebushes. It floated gently onto his desk.

Ambrosia read the news report with a small, sad, but satisfied smile. She looked up and nodded slightly in acknowledgement at the leather-bound book lying on her table. On its cover in gilded script was a single word. ‘Justice’


Word count: 1492
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