Suspense Short Story – TUNES OF DEATH
Photo credit: Friedel from morguefile.com
She was sitting at the far end of the well furnished dining hall of The Hayat. She was waiting for him. She knew he would never be late. But she liked being early.
He came just it time.Well dressed. A high priced suit. Saville Row it was, bow tie, neatly combed hair and imported fragrance. He was a handsome man. But she was far too beautiful. And she knew it.
They drank wine. He ordered Italian cuisine.They ate.They talked. She smiled. She laughed. She was a charming lady and he was charmed. He stared at her like she was a beauty of rare occurrence . Her eyes had the sparkle of the most brightest stare. He felt she was the most innocent , most sacred being of this universe. It seemed that they were made for each other.
”Do you mind going to my place tonight?”.She saw longing in his eyes.
He bade the chauffeur away. He would drive his pretty lady home tonight.
“Do you mind a cup of coffee”. Just a cup of coffee, he thought. He wanted more. But he liked to please his lady before he gave her the opportunity to please him.”No sugar and a black one.”
The room was dark when he woke up. He felt a terrible pain at the back of his head. His hands were tied at the back. He couldn’t remember any of those incident. The last memory he had, was of that girl bringing him coffee. He opened his eyes.
She was waiting for him, waiting for him to open his eyes. And there it was. He opened his eyes.
He saw her. He wanted to say,”What is all these?Why am I tied?”.
But his mouth too was tied. She said nothing. She moved gracefully towards him. A knife in her right hand. She saw fear in his eyes. Perhaps doubt or Plea. He could not believe any of these. He knew what was going to happen to him. A pleasant dream has become a nightmare. He was begging. For His Life.
She struck the knife into his stomach. His mouth was tied. Thus no one could hear a sound. But she heard it, Sharp and clear.The shriek. The last sound of a life. She saw plea in his eyes. The last plea. The pain. She stuck the knife again. Once, twice, thrice. His head shook a little. Perhaps his eyes blinked a few more times or his left hand moved a little. And then he sat motion less. His head tilted a little to the right side. She saw it. The tunes of death.
She felt him standing behind.This was a prize to him.This was her third kill, the first being her own husband. She made proper disposal of the bodies. She knew no one would get the slightest idea. FIR would be launched and case files would open and closed at the end because of lack of concrete evidence.
They were a happy family.S he was his beautiful wife and he was her faithful husband. He was bathing in the bath tub and she was combing her hair.Then she felt it. Claustrophobic. She felt him behind her. And she knew what to do. She walked towards him and put the hair drier in the water. He screamed. Shook vigorously. She saw him dying. The tunes of death pleased her. She had the immense satisfaction. She felt like GOD. She felt the control over lives.
She kills every year. It’s a prize to her great grand-father. She feels all of them are connected “Jack the ripper”and “Edmund Kemper-the co-ed killer”.They are all a family. And every kill of her, is a prize to them.
NB:The protagonist “She” in this story is suffering from certain neurological problems and requires urgent treatment. She is suffering from DID(Dissociate Identity Disorder). However Jack the ripper and Edmund Kemper have no blood connection among them.
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