Cure for the Itch?

Warning: The following story has a little bit of gory details and may not be suitable for certain sensibilities. Please desist if you do not like such stories. The following story may or may not truly depict my inner desires and my real life habits.

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She was found dead in her car in a parking lot with her throat slit. She was wearing a sexy little black dress and her blood had soaked it. The pendant that I gave her on her birthday was dripping with her blood. The car seat was drenched too. With her blood.

***

It was around 1:30 in the night when she was discovered by the security guard who was spoiling for a cigarette. His trip to the alley that night opposite his hotel was quite unusual for him. He rang up the police mumbling incoherent words.

***

That night was unusual for me too. When I looked upon her beautiful face for the last time, it was almost separated from the rest of her body. The killer had taken his time and cut through her slender neck leaving just a bit to let the head remain attached to the body. Although the flow of blood had ebbed, her clothes were still wet and warm. With her blood.

It was not exactly clear to me why would any one want to kill such a pretty woman. Yes, I am a diehard romantic and I personally consider it a cardinal sin to destroy beauty in whatever form it manifests. Maybe I am a bit more inclined to the human female form though I can quite appreciate works of art too. The Renaissance works are a treat.

“What do you think…..?” Inspector Karim asked.

What was I thinking? Standing on a murder scene and I have the gall to reminiscence about the stupid paintings that hung on my wall. Well, not all of them were stupid, at least not the Raphael.

Karim was the first to turn up on the murder scene. He was in the neighbourhood when he heard a scream or something. Well, if that is what he thinks is an explanation, so be it. He immediately ran towards the source of the sound and saw a woman with flailing arms in a car parked in a dark alley. She was still alive with her neck wide open when she looked into his eyes with her own beautiful ones. And then just like that she was no more.

“What do you think……...?” Karim asked.

I could not reply. I was overwhelmed by a coughing fit. Damn cigarettes! The feel of the smoke burning down one’s throat is one of pain. After that comes the feeling of pleasure. Yeah, cigarettes do that. But once you get the hang of the pleasure the pain fades into the background. My lungs are almost ready to give up now. I had to light one standing in a scene as shocking as this. Naturally.

I could not decide what to do. My head was beginning to feel light with this grand display of blood and the smoke twirling out of my nostrils.

Karim had tears in his eyes when I looked at him. I hate it when grown men cannot control their tears. I wished I knew what he was thinking.

“You cannot get away with this..!!”. I was surprised Karim managed this between his sobs. Yeah do that. But one must not make promises that one cannot keep. It tends to blow up in your face sooner or later. I should know. I have made a lot of empty promises.

***

I went into the alley to take a leak when I saw a car parked in the shadows. My curious nature led the way and I soon found myself staring upon a pretty woman snorting stuff. Yeah, your guess is as good as mine. However, I struck up a conversation.

After some time with her, I learnt that she was sad and tired of life. I nodded although I knew it was a lame excuse to explain the stuff. She told me that it was her birthday and she had finally convinced her boyfriend that she no longer took drugs. Although she was not sure she could shake it off. They were going to meet at a hotel opposite this alley. In about 15 minutes.

Well, it was her birthday. So I presented her with a pendant that belonged to my ex girlfriend. Well, I have a past too. And I wanted to forget it.We talked for nearly 5 minutes when it began.

It began as an itch. And the next moment I slit her throat. It was cleanly done although the excessive blood spoiled the beauty of the incision.

What? It was her birthday. A birthday present was in order.

***

Karim told me that he was a policeman as soon as he saw me. But somehow the importance of that statement was lost on me. However, as is my wont, I got to know him a bit before it began again. It started with an itch.

Karim did not protest when I started clobbering him with the lid of the trash can. He did not fend me off. Maybe it was partly because his hands were tied and partly because his eyes were in the girl’s hands for anyone to find.


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