Queen of Hearts

She stood back and admired her handiwork.

Perfect.

Well, almost perfect. Carefully, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small card. She placed it gently on the man's chest and smiled.

Now, it was perfect.

She took her camera out of the bag and took several pictures, making sure she had every angle. She took a close up of the card, the Queen of Hearts, as it sat next to the bloody cavity, and smiled again.

She placed the camera back into the bag, next to the lump of muscle she had removed from the man's chest. She realised she didn't even know his name.

Idiot.

She looked inside his trouser pocket, but there was no wallet. His jacket! Yes, there it was, in the inside pocket.

Jake Edwards.

Father of three, it seemed looking at the picture of the man she had killed and cut apart, smiling with three children and a grinning woman, presumably the wife.

Correction: widow.

She would be better off, the Queen of Hearts thought. The man was a cheat and deserved to die. The woman was young. She would have a chance to find someone else, someone better, someone more faithful.

Now, time to leave. The smell of blood was making her hungry.

…

As usual I started with the freewrite prompt and used themostdangerouswritingapp.com to write the first five minutes (and then popped it into google docs to check for errors and tidy it up a bit):