"Little" Archie Clement was only five foot tall, but in the annals of the American Civil War in Missouri, he would be feared as one of the most ruthless killers.
Pa lies on their bed, one foot on the floor, a jug of corn whiskey spilled on him. I look at him in rage, my eyes upon the large blood-stained knife lying on the floor. It is heavy as I lift it from the floor and raise it over my head, tensing my muscles to strike, but stop before I do something foolish. I cannot kill my father in his sleep.
"Pa." I gently slap his face to wake him, "Pa, wake up." I slap him even harder, an evil smile forming on my lips as he opens his eyes. "It's your dumb ass son, Pa, your dumb little pissant son. I see mom, there she is, right where you left her, see her?" He staggers and looks at my mother's dead body and takes a swing at me. The hunting knife slides easily into his throat, and his startled expression gives me great satisfaction as blood flows over my hand, warm slippery blood, and I twist the blade with pleasure as he slumps to my side.
"I just finished "Archie Clement" and really enjoyed reading it. I did not know how I would take to reading something in the first person, but once I got started I could not put it down. There was a lot of information I had never heard of so it is evident Gayle did a lot of research to get the characters right."
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Gayle is an American author, father, grandfather and retired Navy Radarman.
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