The Ice Cream Truck

Thriller Stories | Sep 15, 2013 | 4 min read
24 Votes, average: 4 out of 5
Thriller Stories

The Ice Cream Truck

Jesse woke up in his run-down apartment the residue of last night's drunken episode still danced in his head. The summer sun was already blazing through his window warming him in a way his heart had long ago.
His wife had left him six months back, pregnant with another man's child. Jesse never asked who is was but had a pretty good idea it was a guy named Phil she worked with. He was a CEO with her company and could provide more material comfort for her. After all he was only a full time student and part time ice cream truck driver.
Jesse knew it was almost time to start his daily summer drive he got up and threw on his stained unkempt smock. His greasy long hair would tuck under his hat and hopefully no one would notice it had not been washed in three days. Not that they will notice, he thought to himself. They never notice me.
"Fucking suburban wives, with their snot nosed little brats," Jesse didn't even realize he was yelling into the empty room. "Don't give a shit about me; I'm just a fucking ice cream dispenser. Why the hell would I have feelings or anything to say? Aside from chocolate or vanilla. Fucking shit is this really my life?"
Jesse calmed down and was covered in sweat, shaking all over. Had there been another outburst? They seem to be coming more frequently lately, which is all he needs, to give people a reason to think he was crazy.
Brilliant and disillusioned, maybe, but not crazy. He was top in his classes of chemistry and well on his was to his degree. It wasn't his fault that his lying bitch of a wife laid down with a dog and woke up with fleas. She never believed in him and took the first opportunity that came her way to leave him. Now he was stuck selling ice cream to make ends meet.
"Fucking two year lease," he yelled again. "How am I supposed to forget when I am trapped in this rotting cesspool of a home?"
Jesse had a way though, a way to pay back his wife and all of her kind. The thought had occurred to him three weeks ago during a class in the lab. He shook again, this time with anticipation, today was the reckoning and no one knew it was coming.
Down in his truck he had removed all the tubs of ice cream last night chocolate, strawberry, vanilla, and the others. They sat in the rented freezer in his basement. The old stairs creaked and moaned under his huge frame, much like his bones did from the despair he felt. The cellar was cold and smelled of rotting wood, he hated it here but soon he would never step foot in it again.
His solution has setting in front of him in several glass beakers, a tasteless, odorless killer that would save so many from his fate. The tired, wheel spinning husbands and fathers who would return home one day to find all he cared about gone. No man should have to face the shame of being replaced by another man, or in some cases, another woman.
Botulinum Toxin, its official name, for many it was a fountain of youth. So many middle class wives inject it into their face to persevere youth, at least at a glance. However when eaten, it had the opposite effect on the intestines. Soon the whores and their children will feel what Jesse felt; dead inside.
He loaded the tainted ice cream into his truck and turned on the mindless music to full blast. A merry little tune used on merry-go-rounds all over the world, today it would be a death march.
For the next five hours he passed out free samples, sold all he could and gave all his customers a genuine smile for the first time. He drove out to Hansen's lookout point where he had his first date with the love of his life. Linda was gone now, living with Phil and preparing for her first child.
Jesse turned on the local radio and there was the breaking news he had expected was being broadcasted. The local hospitals and doctors' offices were being flooded with sick, and yes dying, women and children. His vengeance was complete and he looked out over the town, laughing today was a good day. Jesse then started to eat his ice cream cone.
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