“Damn, the networks are jammed. Do you have a phone?” she asked looking at me as I drove on nearly deserted streets. “No,” I lied.
“Where are we going?” she asked in her accented voice. “To the outskirts, where it will be relatively safer,” I answered
focusing on the potholed roads as I drove through narrow lanes, avoiding the police barricades that were being set up on the highway.
“What's your name?” I asked, noticing her light a brown cigar. “Rosalyn Newmann,” she muttered, looking away. “And you?” she asked back.
“Manmohan Singh,” I said eyes unblinking.
She shrugged and looked out of the window. I could see her mumbling things to herself through the rearview mirror. She was shivering, clearly nervous at her predicament when I pulled the SUV in the lane leading to my home.
“Come,” I said, locking the doors and pointing the way. She hesitated at first but soon followed. There was no one around when I took her inside my flat, careful to keep my 'private' room out of her view, lest she introduced herself to the headless torso her beautiful face was soon going to adorn.
“Would you like a drink?” I offered the moment she took the chair.
“Do you have some vodka?” she asked, clutching her head. I nodded and stepped into the kitchen. From the topmost shelf, I brought down the required bottle and poured the alcohol into two glasses. When they were almost full, I took a packet lying atop the refrigerator and threw in half a dozen pills in the glass to my left. When I came back, Rosalyn was standing near the window overlooking the far-flung forest.
The Other Side
305 “Thanks,” she said, accepting the glass from my hand. “So what do you do?” she asked, the first of many questions which I lied to. Twenty minutes later when her speech had slurred, she moved closer to my chair and planted a soft kiss on my lips. I shivered involuntarily.
“You've been so helpful. I can't thank you enough,” she said, climbing atop me and getting rid of her top in one swift motion.
“No!” I said and pushed her down on the floor. I went for her face. Feeling her soft skin brush my stubble as my palms ran through her hair. She sighed at my touch and pushed her lips over mine. Her hands reached for my six inches over my pants but I brushed them off. I bit her lips as hard as I could. She whimpered in ecstasy. I could feel her grip loosening over my back, as I tasted her mouth, biting her lips again, devouring them in heated passion. She groaned once and stopped responding; going still and I gradually pulled myself back from kissing her. Groaning, I pumped my fists knowing there was work to be done to accomplish my mission.
I carried her almost naked body to the bathroom and tied up her limbs, which could disturb my concentration. I taped her mouth firmly enough so that she would not scream to wake up the old couple that lived upstairs.
The chainsaw smiled at me with its rusty gleam. I touched the base of her neck marking the spot in my mind. She didn't even twitch as the hungry steel met her nerves. Alcohol and sleeping pills are indeed a deadly combination, I noted. When half the blood had flown through her body through the gaping hole and I had extracted the head into my hands, Rosalyn's eyes suddenly shot open. Shocked, I dropped the head and it rolled on the ground, coming to rest near the bucket. The eyes looked at me in an accusing stare as blood gurgled out of the lips I had kissed a few minutes back. I watched nervously as the decapitated head shut its eyes inch by inch before finally blackening out and rolling over. I gingerly picked up the prized possession, holding it by the long hair. I washed off the blood and preserved it in the plastic bag for the time being. It took me three hours to slice the body into small pieces and fill up the two large black plastic bags. Before the sun could think of greeting the world, I was back in the SUV with Rosalyn packed off in those two bags. Half an hour later, the SUV along with Rosalyn inside was on its way down the mountain valley overlooking the expressway.
The room seems to give an iridescent glow. Rosalyn's face radiates a different kind of beauty, almost untamed on Preeti's soft bust and smooth hands that sit over Manorama's shapely bottom, which in turn lies perfectly perched on Sunaina's thunder thighs and creamy legs. All of them carefully stitched together by my very own hands to form my creation. The sight seeps into my desire hungry soul as I stare at them together as one… no, as I stare at her…my dream girl- beautiful beyond description, too captivating for me to spend another day without her. I have waited all my life. I can't wait anymore. I can feel the need in me for her companionship.
I know what I have to do. The tantrik had blessed my purpose with his guidance. I shuffle the curtains and look up at the dark sky through the window. Yes, the moon is missing and I can see the darkness spreading its shadows over the land. I smile in anticipation; I know the hour has come. Today is the fifth week and the night when I would taste the fruit of my success. I dump the chainsaw, thanking it with a kiss for all its assistance and I lay down the scalpel alongside with reverence.