The Other Side(77)

I pulled the vehicle in a corner and hurriedly jumped out of the van. I lifted her buxom body on my shoulders along with the bag and walked ahead, trying to find an appropriate place. I placed her down on the marble slab over a muddy grave and tied her up with the rope from my bag and taped her mouth. I pulled and tore her dress with beastly ferocity and threw it aside. Her breasts jutted in my face, augmented by the bondage, the red bra she was wearing inside was a subtle allegory to her soon to be fate. I lugged at her bra, not bothering to turn her over to unbuckle it. Her breasts shone red in the darkness, relishing my naked assault. I sighed, deep and lustful, looking at the pair.

“Just sometime more,” I pleaded to them and pulled out my companion from the bag. The blade roared to life as I pulled the plug. Suddenly Preeti shook her body; her eyes flying open, staring at the blade in horror. I smiled at her in an assuring way, caressing her breasts with my palm and pinching the thick outline of her nipples.



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“It will just take a while,” I winked and plunged the blade into her shoulders.

Tears of blood fell at my feet, mixing with the rain and watering the wild plants around the graves as the saw tore through all bodily barriers. Mid-way she arched her head back once and then it collapsed with the tongue rolling out.

“Rest in peace,” I whispered, neatly slicing out the bust and placing it in the plastic bag. I put the soft, mud-stuck hands in another bag.

The rain would take care of the pool of blood. I just needed to dispose the body whose purpose had been served in this life. I saw an abandoned pick lying about a hundred meters ahead. It took me a tiring hour to dig up an existing grave. Broken bones and soiled hair greeted me as I opened the grave.

“You have company,” I informed the lifeless skeleton inside and kicked Preeti six feet under.

Do I feel remorseful? Guilty? Heck, no! Why should I? They didn't when they insulted me, abused me, and kicked me out of social gatherings. The girls who rejected my advances never felt I had a heart too. The families of the girls who would come on the invitation of my old mother would leave abruptly on seeing my picture, even before I could greet them. What was I? The Devil reincarnate? Yes, they thought so and yes, that's what I had become for them. I would show them. I had taken my revenge on this world, this world that so hated my face. I would have a woman, a woman far more beautiful and perfect than any of their daughters, sisters, mothers and wives.

As I speak about beauty, my eyes rest on that face. Ah, that pretty countenance that completes my creation. The closed eyes have a sparkle of blue inside, the long shapely nose adds to the glamour of the soft, clear and fair skin and those lips that I see pouting out are the most arresting feature of the face. Although somewhere they still seem frozen in that last minute scream. The long slender neck, the short folded ears and the flowing silky blonde hair, Rosalyn was surely the prettiest face I had ever come across.

I remember that day. How can I forget? It was just a week ago when seven armed terrorists stormed the city, killing people and taking hostages. However, in the earlier part of the evening there was only hearsay that I would catch from gossiping tongues and hurried legs in the crowd on the busy promenade near the seashore. I had parked the van right in front of a popular international hotel and was just thinking about getting in the van and leaving for home when I saw a SUV reversing just a row ahead. I waited to let it pass and through the rolled down windows, I saw her looking towards

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303 the sea with those transparent blue eyes. My heart almost banged against my ribs as I soaked in the features of her face. Slinging the bag on my shoulder, I moved forward to observe her from a close range. Hiding behind a car parked a couple of meters ahead of her vehicle, I could clearly hear her shouting at the driver.

“The parcel contains urgent documents that have to be mailed by tomorrow. We can't leave without it. Go to the room now and fetch it,” she said, her voice raised.

The driver clearly irritated by her tantrums, stopped the SUV and alighted. I could see him walking towards the hotel on the opposite side at a furious pace. I was following his steps with my sight when suddenly the guy collapsed on the streets, followed by three more people who were huddled at quite some distance from him. I didn't even have time to register that moment when out of the blue, gunshots rang out aloud. I hid behind the car and saw people walking on the opposite side fall to their death. Ahead of me, the lady shrieked and on pure impulse I rushed towards the SUV taking cover of the cars behind and jumped in. Thankfully, the driver had left the keys on.

“Hey, stop. Who are you?” she screamed in my ears. “Terrorists have taken over the city. I'll have to drive us to safety. Consider me a friend,” I said, starting the engine. “What? Wait, I can't trust you,” she replied. “You've no other option unless you want to stay here and wait for death or step out and be shot at,” I said. That seemed to have the supposed effect and she sobered down. She was trying to use her cell phone when I zoomed the vehicle ahead.