This short story became SPIXer (Most popular story) on 02 Mar 2013 and won INR 500 (US$ 10)
Psychological Thriller Short Story – Serial Killer
Photo credit: chelle from morguefile.com
She could hear the shower running as she entered through the front door “That’s strange” she said. Dropping her keys upon the table, she headed up the stairs. The bathroom door was ajar a few inches and water flowed everywhere. A chill ran up her spine as she pushed the door open. But it was too late; the masculine hand was already on her abdomen and she was pushed against the wall. Another hand covered her mouth and stifled her screams. A white handkerchief suddenly replaced the hand and pushed against her face. She struggled, but her body gave up as numbness enveloped her senses…
***
The sun was not yet up from his precious nap, but the rest of the world seemed to be. Birds chirped merrily while the fresh morning breeze scrubbed the perspiration off his forehead. The whole world reflected silently upon him- The birds chattered relentlessly, as if calling out a sweet ‘Good Morning’ all around him. He didn’t listen, nor reply. Everything was calm; and the only sound one could hear was that of continuously flowing water disturbed by the mellow harmony of chattering birds. It felt peaceful. Except to him.
He walked steadily, holding her body lightly yet carefully, as if carrying a delicate artifact. His mind felt chaos; his heart pounded like a male dog in heat; faster… faster… relentlessly going on …. Deafening him. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, sharpening his senses.
“She’s heavy.” He thought to himself. But he didn’t stop; not when his legs ached, not even when the sun showed up. He kept walking, driven by some force- unknown, even to him.
Half an hour later, he laid her by the river. She was cold, lifeless. He kissed her cold lips. He kept kissing her.
“I love you Sandra…. I love you…” he whispered between the kisses.
He pulled a knife out of his pocket and cut a lock of her hair. Tears pooled up his eyes as he kissed the lock of her hair. Then he kissed her upon her eyes… her lips… her breasts… He carried out his ritual, slowly, at ease, feeling finally at peace. His steps were meticulous and calculated; he had practised them many times.
He started removing her clothes. Her top came off to reveal red scars upon her breasts and abdomen- they were fresh, delivered only hours ago. Removing her pants, he smiled at the dark red lines upon and between her thighs. Her body wailed of torture; whipping, knives, fists, scratches, nail-marks…. He closed his eyes and savored the scars, with his fingers lightly caressing all over her body. You are mine. And you always will be.
The stars were slightly purple and her body was stiff. He knew it was time. He had to let her go. Kissing her again, he placed the lock of hair -along with several others- in his bag.
He wrapped up her naked body into a satin sheet and gently lowered her into the water. Her lifeless body floated a while over the cold water; and was then flung 50 meters down through the waterfall.
“I love you Sandra… I will always love you… You are mine…” he mumbled, his eyes fixed upon her body. “I will find you… I will always love you Sandra… Always…”
Her name was Laura.
__END__
