Breathe, by M. Hendrix
(Warning: Content not suitable for those under the age of 16.)
There isn't much I could do for him at this point, I decide as I throw a blanket over his still body. I can see a couple spots on the wool discoloring already, and it's only been a couple moments since I've covered him up. Scoffing, I turn and leave the room while breathing in deeply. A single stick of incense masks the scent of blood and gunpowder, though it won't work for much longer. When the girl walks through the door, the first thing she will smell is the sickly scent of decay. Though it won't be as strong as it could have been, but my job is to let the body be found.
I let my lungs fill with air, tasting the scents on my tongue briefly before vanishing with my exhale. I carefully wipe up my mess before leaving the house. I don't try to be stealthy, as the man had no neighbours close to him for miles. My truck is parked in his driveway, the engine having cooled while I was working.
"Almost done," I muse, drawing a finger through the dirt on my hood. I can smell the earth, and my skin chills in the cool winter temperatures. My breath is fogging, becoming shorter as my lungs chill and my excitement grows.
Only an hour, and I can breathe easier. All traces of her will vanish, along with her lover. She should have known better than to leave me for someone else. She was mine, and now she'll remember why.