A Roll of Fax Paper

He wanted to kill her, but would not. Charlie grinned and warmed on the tint of red and smelled the bathroom tiles in his home. The iron in them was rusting just a bit and the aroma was sweet to him. Charlie lived for these times when his services were requested. He saw a lot of things in Window Corporation and had always taken care of the really tough problems that even the Pinkerton boys refused to touch. Take for instance the girl on the sofa and Golem passed out at his desk. When Charlie saw what was going down he made up his mind to kill her. He gave her a bit more of the white powder than she had taken before. And when Golem woke up and saw her and thought to call for help, Charlie gave her a little more and using a roll of fax paper—that stuff was heavy when in a roll—hit him on the top of his head, and he slept while he did his work. That Wicket had seen the dead girl on the sofa. Charlie would take him out of the story later. Charlie for now yearned to see Golem’s inner thoughts when he woke up and found his fantasy was true and how it felt to kill suddenly all around him, in the air, on a sofa, and hard to deny.