She’d made sure he was following.
Her stilettos clicked, thin against the moonless night. She crossed to rough pavement, surer in her steps as she led him into the graveyard, to the family crypt. She felt, rather than heard his respirations quicken.
She turned, mouth red and ready, as he caught up to her on the steps. He bent to her, his mouth cold.
Stiletto in hand, she plunged it deep into his heart.
© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2020)
Carrot Ranch Prompt (12/17/2020): In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that features stilettos. Who will wear them and why? Go where the prompt leads!