Rest In Violence

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As I walked down the moist filled pavement towards my home, some unsolicited thoughts wandered inside me. Her spongy hair that was blind sighting me all through the night. With every step it seemed what had happened was more relevant than ever before. Her big eyes that stared down my chest like she was a hungry puma waiting to hunt me down. I remembered how I had stopped her, stopped her from breathing. She had those exotic lips which drew me to her every single night. I smiled looking at my reflection in the small puddle of water as I passed by it. I had suffocated her till she closed her eyes, those big eyes laden with humongous amounts of mascara. I had killed her with my own hands. She had to die as I was getting addicted to her.

As I reached my front door I saw the newspaper sleeping on my doormat. I envied it. It was sleeping peacefully where as I had been sleep deprived for a week because of her. She had to die, she was not letting me sleep. I opened the door and saw my room was completely ransacked. There was complete darkness that engulfed the room and I could faintly see my possessions were shattered across the floor. I slowly entered watching my step staring into the unknown. I was silent and so was my room. And at that very moment I felt a gun on my head. I turned around and saw what I never wanted to see again.  I fell on the floor crawling back towards my couch in despair as the lights were switched on. Those big eyes were staring down at me again, I wanted to kiss those succulent lips but I was too scared. I never believed in ghosts but I wanted to now. She was alive. Perhaps I was an efficient assassin.

“You thought you had killed me, didn’t you? You drowned me in the bath tub but you forgot to check my pulse. You forgot to check back on me because you were scared. You have always been scared in your life. Scared of things that other people love. I knew all this time that you were an intelligence officer. I am amazed how you were even recruited? You are a coward, this was your first case and you could not even kill me properly” She pulled the load spring on her revolver and let go. The revolver was loaded now. I stared at the Samuel Colt revolver in her hand and then at her lips. I was scared. She was true but I did not want to die. Deep inside my heart’s some god forsaken artery I was glad that she was alive. She pointed the revolver at me and pretended like she kissed me. Oh! Those fucking lips. She pulled the trigger and the bullet threaded through my abdomen and my shirt was slowly painted with blood. It felt good. She came closer and held my collar, pulled me up and kicked me right where it hurts the most. No not my heart, it was my groin. I again fell to the floor holding my abdomen. She fired two more bullets. One of them missed the target and the other just flew through my ribs exactly below my heart.

“Your aim is quite poor” I screamed. She sat down near me and kissed my cheek.

“You were dying to feel my lips, you coward, I know that.”

She stood up and turned around. Her ass swivelled in those tight pants as she walked away. Everyone walked from my life perhaps that is why I was a coward. I rested my hands on the floor and forced myself to stand. It was hard, but I managed somehow. I was not a fucking coward. I limped across the floor towards the door and screamed her name.

“Hey Lucy” She turned around and saw me with a hand on my abdomen. I fell on my knees and took out my revolver from my breast pocket. “You know I may be a coward. I may be afraid of things unlike you. Still I will not let you go today. I loved you every single day you bitch. That is why I did not want to check back on you in the bath tub. That is why I did not check your pulse.”

She walked towards me with tears in her eyes and kissed me. As I felt her lips on mine I also felt two more bullets entering me. She pushed me away and smiled, smiled like the devil himself. “I am so glad you loved me. It was more fun killing you. You emotional fool, I knew you would fall in my trap” And she fired one more bullet right through my head. I looked at the Samuel Colt revolver and then at her lips. My vision was dying and so was I. As I took my last ounce of oxygen I had only one word for her. “Bitch”. Some more blood spurted out from my mouth and I rested in violence. She fired one right at my heart and said.” Yes I am a bitch”.

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Alcatraz Dey is a writer,novelist, blogger,editor and poet from INDIA. His works include the Colossal Series in which the first book SERPENTINE SCROLLS has been released. He writes thrillers with an element of mystery, thrill and real facts. His poems have a dark side usually symbolizing his character. He remains a mystery to everyone. He feels an aura of mystery is apt for his persona as he writes mysteries. He blogs as well and his written for various companies as a freelancer. He is an avid gamer and his pen name ALCATRAZ is inspired by the protagonist in his favorite game series CRYSIS.

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