A chilling story of revenge...

Originally Written in October of 2022

I was walking home from school, wearing my favorite propeller hat, when I heard the whimsical sound of an ice cream truck. I ran over to find a truck pulled over nearby, and a line of other kids had formed in front of it. I eagerly got in line, and not long after, I went up to the ice cream man.

“Hello, kid,” the ice cream man said. “What would you like to order?”

“Give me the Cricket Man ice cream!” I shouted.

“Wait,” the man said. “What's the magic word?”
I grumbled… “Give me the Cricket Man ice cream, please?”
“Sure!” the man said. “One Cricket Man ice cream, just for you. That will be five dollars.”

I had some money with me from my dad, and I offered it to the ice cream man.

He looked at me and froze.

“What is it? Ice cream man?” I asked after a moment.

“Oh, nothing, kid,” he quickly said. “Have a great rest of your day!”

“Ok, ice cream man!” I shouted as I continued my walk, enjoying the ice cream.

When I got home, I told my dad that I had some delicious ice cream.

“Good for you, son.” He said. I smiled in response.

“Now, can you please give back Daddy’s money?” Dad asked

“Ok Dad!” I said as I gave him back the remaining money.

“Now, son, work on your homework!”

“Fine, dad,” I grumbled, going upstairs and beginning to work on my homework. But partway through, I got distracted playing video games.

A few hours later, as I was getting hungry, I shouted to my dad for dinner. But he didn’t respond.

I went downstairs to ask him for dinner, and what I discovered shocked me.

I saw my dad’s corpse on the floor, with his assailant standing above him—a man holding what looked to be a sharp blade. I froze in horror.

Suddenly, the assailant turned towards me, and I recognized his face immediately.

It was the ice cream man!

I shouted in despair, and in that time, the ice cream man got away.

TWENTY YEARS LATER...

Herbert Kavil.

2939 Neapolitan Road, Strawberry Beach, Florida.

I finally found you...

I had spent twenty years searching, and in that time I had trained myself to my very limits. But after all this time, I found him. I was ready for my revenge.

On a Sunday morning, I drove to the address in question, arriving in the later hours. When I arrived, the light in the house was on.

I sneaked around the house before seeing a window. As I looked through it, I saw an old man reading a newspaper from his chair. It was him. I just knew it!

“I FOUND YOU, ICE CREAM MAN!!!” I shouted as I charged at him from the window. Glass shattered around us as I pinned the man down on the ground, stabbing him over and over again.

And as the man groaned in pain, I held the knife above his heart.

"Why?" The man asked.

I put on the propeller hat that I had worn on the day my father died.

"Oh, it's you!" He exclaimed weakly, making a smile on his face, his tone almost chipper. "Little Sammy!"

"It's David." I corrected him.

"Oh."

“Now, before I kill you,” I continued. “I want to know, why did you kill my father?”

“You owed me money for that ice cream,” he said.

"What!" I was shocked.

“But I paid you! All 5 dollars!”

“That money was counterfeit." He revealed. "All of it was counterfeit! What kind of father gives his son counterfeit money? So, I followed you home, and that night I had a talk with your father. But he wouldn’t budge! So I did what I had to do. Are you happy with yourself, Timmy? You’re avenging the life of a criminal.”

I looked at him with disgust.

“The only criminal here is you, ice cream man!” I shouted as I delivered the killing blow.

As I stood over the now deceased ice cream man, I, for the first time in many years, felt a sense of joy. I had done it; I had avenged the death of my father. However, I knew that I was now a murderer. And because of that, there was only one option left for me. I turned to a nearby candle, standing on top of a table, and pushed it over onto the wooden floor. Afterwards, I walked over to the chair and sat down, picking up the blood-splattered newspaper the ice cream man had previously been reading. As I did this, I looked back at the corpse lying in front of me and the fire beginning on the wooden floor. And as this fire began to grow, I simply opened up the newspaper and began to read it, eager to finally be reunited with my father.