Personal note to the readers, this story is not for the weak of heart to read for the content of this story. By choosing to read it, you agree that you are over eighteen and mature enough to handle the content of this story, thank you.
Dark times approached, as everyone waited in anticipation. Their hearts beat rapidly with eyes glued to the screen. Today was the day of the drawing, to learn who the lucky son of a bitch was that won the chance of a lifetime. Not everyone wanted the prize, but most also did. Whoever won was going to be the number one target of many desperate people. However to protect this person, the government concealed their identity and winning social security number. They merely revealed the name of the winner on national television.
What followed that was only to be expected.
The newscaster was a bleached blond, curvy woman. Her big blue doe eyes, filled with horror and slight anger, as she read off the emergency broadcast. Her bubbly voice was close to sobbing, as she said, "Due to the content of these images, we have been informed that we cannot reveal them on live TV. The whole country was in an uproar, total anarchy, as the search, or should I say, manhunt has begun to find the person, who won the lottery for no taxes for life. So the question remains, who is Casey L. Miller?"
The channel flipped to the next news station. A man shouted over gunfire. His black hair was a mess from his nervously brushing his fingers through it. "It is a mad house here in the city, gangs and mobs of people are out firing at one another. They are all desperate to find this one person. Advice to anyone named Casey is to take shelter anywhere. Everyone is warned not to step outside!" He fell to the floor, as a series of shots rang out relatively close by. The man stood up again and directed the camera to a distant rooftop. "As you can see, even law enforcement is having a tough time rounding these people up. They even have to crack down and use fire hoses and tear gas to force them back!"
The television shut off, as a lady rushed past a little girl sitting on the couch. "Logan, I told you not to turn on the television. We want the house to appear vacant to the people outside." Logan remained silent. Today was a strange day to her. She didn’t understand what all the fuss was about.
She was familiar with violence, because she was a girl who lived downtown in the city with her mother. Last night her mother received a strange call followed by a visit from a strange man at the door. After that, her mother told Logan to gather her belongings. She was going to live with her sister. She lived in a small country house in the woods outside the city. After that, her mother went out and has yet to return.
Her sister closed the blinds to all the windows and locked the door. She pushed several pieces of furniture against the door.
"Ca-," Logan began but her voice immediately cut off.
"You have to wait until the violence dies down." The sister told the little girl not to say her name at all costs. She picked Logan up, rushed her into the back room and locked the door behind them. She pushed the dresser to block that door too.
"Why do we have to block the door?" Logan asked, as she jumped on the bed, before her sister's glaring eyes forced her to stop.
"It is for if anyone breaks into the house, they can’t get in here." She pulled out a .44 caliber pistol out of the dresser and put it on the edge of the bed, "and if someone does, we are prepared."
Logan looked at the gun and then back at her older sister. "What’s so great about no taxes anyway that people have to kill for it?" Her older sister laughed and gave the little girl an adoring look.
"You’ll understand when you are older." She hugged the little girl and then hushed, "now let us get some sleep until mother comes back."
Logan watched as the clock ticked by. She closed her eyes around 7:30pm.
A rapid knocking sounded on the door, "Please, somebody?" A lady’s voice abruptly woke Logan and her sister.
"Somebody help, please I need help," the knocking increased rapidly. They heard sobs from outside.
Logan turned to her sister, who grabbed the gun. "Stay here Logan. I will be back, when I see what is going on." Her sister pushed the dresser, as much as she needed to squeeze through the door and disappeared down the hall. Logan ran to the door and peeked through to see. Her sister holding the gun tightly sneaked up to the door.
"Please, there are people out here, with guns. They are shooting everyone they see, please!"
Logan’s sister opened the blinds slightly to see a lady in tears outside. Before she could close them again, the lady saw her.
The knocking turned to frantic banging, "please let me in, please let me in, please let me in! I don't want to die!"
The older sister bit her tongue. She started to push her blockade away. When she opened the door, instead of seeing a distressed lady crying, she faced a cold calm glare and a gun directed at her head.
"Hello, that prize is mine now." With that, the stranger pulled the trigger. She watched coldly as the girl fell to the floor her brains splattered on the carpet.
Logan cringed at the gunshot. She quickly slammed the door shut and began to shove the dresser back to block the door.
The lady heard the door slam shut. She was well aware of the other person in the house, but she took her time. If the other person were a threat, they would have been the one to check the door not the weak and pathetic girl at her feet.
"It is a good thing I knew some of the best hackers in the city. They gave me the social security number that won the raffle. The address was pretty close too. This was almost too easy I swear." The lady laughed to herself and strolled to the back room.
She lightly knocked on the door, "I suggest you come out, otherwise I will come in there and blow your brains out as well."
Logan hesitated and peeked through a crack in the open door. The lady yanked the door wide open and snatched the girl’s dark brown hair. Logan yelped a surprised cry and she met the barrel of the gun at eye level.
"Now listen here, you little bitch. That prize is mine. From now on, I am Casey Miller. You’re going to do exactly what I say. Otherwise, you’re going to end up like that one right there." She pulled Logan’s hair up enough that she barely could stand on her tiptoes. Tears clouded her vision, as she stared at the crumpled body of her older sister.
"C-Ca cas," She mumbled trying to call out.
"Shut up! Not another peep from you." 'Casey' towed the girl down the hall and threw the girl onto the floor. She looked up to find the trap door that led to the attic.
Logan slowly crawled on her belly to reach her dead sister. She saw her reflection in her vacant empty eyes. She looked just like the lifeless dolls she saw in store windows. She grabbed the cold hand of her sister and held it. She did not care about the blood pooling around the body and covering the front of her shirt.
'Casey' had grabbed a broom from the closet on the side of the hallway and banged it against the attic door. When it opened, a ladder fell out leading into the darkness above. She went back to the little girl and pried her away from her dead sister.
Logan cried and thrashed in the woman’s grip, as the woman hauled her up into the attic. The woman carelessly tossed her into the darkness. 'Casey' closed the attic door behind her to ensure the little girl couldn’t escape. She turned to the dead body, stepped up to her and kicked her rolling her onto her back.
"Dead men tell no tales, so where is your social security card?" 'Casey' rummaged through the pockets and raided the body of her wallet and various other objects. She looked at a gold plated watch with a pearl face.
"Who do you sleep with to get a gem like this, little slut?" She slipped the watch on, "well, it matters not now. It’s mine, everything will be mine."
'Casey' shut the door and locked it. She rummaged through the kitchen for something to eat. "Are you hungry, you little fucking brat? I bet you want me to send you a little snack up there for you to munch on!"
Logan numbly cried, as she curled up into a ball where she laid.
"Well fuck you too. I was trying to be nice! I mean I didn’t want to shoot this asshole, but I doubt she would let me win no taxes for life. Plus, she had a gun! She could have killed me!" 'Casey' grabbed the bag of remaining chips and sat on the couch. "I wonder how many mother fuckers named Casey died so far. Don’t you?" She flipped on the television.
Logan heard through the rafters, the people screaming from the screen. The mechanical laugher of the lady below disrupted it! "Well shit! These Idiots are insane. I swear they only wanted an excuse to kill people."
Logan stopped crying, as ice began to fill her heart and she silently listened to the gunshots, the screams and the concerned voice of the newscaster. Her mind echoed the last words of her sister and the maniacal laughter of the lady who killed her.