Who killed ME...

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Credits
Image - Alston Station by Wandering Soul
Courtesy - www.deviantart.com via www.blogaton.in

Liz ran as if she were being chased by a cheetah from the check-in point to the boarding gate to catch her flight from Hong Kong to Sydney, and her high healed Jimmy Choo stilettoes didn’t help. Business class she thought ironically to herself clumsily running with her macbook close to her chest and a carry-over Louis Vuitton purse clinging on her shoulder. The past few months had been erratic – late night calls, working weekends, high pressure presentations, the stress was all consuming and she had almost lost track of time but that’s the cost you pay to be the youngest director of a multinational entertainment giant. Today she was determined to run and get there for she deserved this vacation she had earned it, though her 30yr old un-exercised body was resisting.

She finally reached the gate and was escorted to the airplane. She was the last one to board and after bumping into a stewardess dropping her LV once and almost tripping into the lap of an old but handsome man she finally reached her seat. She glanced at the man sitting just behind her – engrossed in the latest issue of Autocar, Bose head-phones plugged in, he was in his own sweet world, her heart skipped a beat and she froze – all the old memories came rushing in, it was a similar day she met this guy Steve in a train, six years ago…

That day it was raining outside, so Liz took a cab to the station, had a train to board from platform 3A, she was going to Washington, and she was late that day…

It was a busy day at station as trains were getting delayed, there were people…lots of people around her, she was lost in the crowd where she could just see an unending trail of heads, and it was tough to say which head belonged to which body…
Chasing the crowd as she did when she was 16, to get a ticket to live concert of Backstreet Boys, Liz reached the platform rushing towards the coach she was to board, the final announcement for the departure was already made, she was out of breathe as she ran, and she was the last one to board…
“You missed it, almost!!” said the guy sitting next to her.

“Did I!!”
replied Liz, with the same intensity.

(Liz a beautiful 24 years old girl, beyond any known human psychology is lost in her own dark world of pain most of the times, earlier this year she started working with this entertainment agency as a secret crime reporter, and was going to Washington to cover a scam involving a list of highly influential Americans, and if successful she would bring out one of the biggest defense deal scam in Americas history…)

Liz was struggling with the papers and few photographs when she noticed the guy sitting next to her was curiously odd, he was wearing this long dark gray overcoat at this time of year when no one else would, and was oddly observing her…

(Steve is a 28 years old man working with American Intelligence and was sent to stop Liz reaching Washington, he had a gun and orders to kill Liz…)

And the next instant she found herself staring this guy with brown hairs and blue eyes, she thought he was beautiful…

“Hello, I am Liz” 
he smiled and replied,

“Hello. I am Steve”

“So you are going to Washington?”

“Yes, and you”

 “I am going to Washington”

“You live there”

“No, just a family engagement”, “you live there”

“Yes”

“Steve, so gracious you are”

“Sorry”

“I mean you look beautiful, you are a treat to my eyes”

“If I agree with you we’d both be wrong”

And a brief laughter followed…

Liz found a strange charm in this guy, the aura Steve had was making her mad, she wanted to own him as she had everything she wanted to…
When Liz was a kid she broke every toy she had, just to know that she owned it and had a right to do whatever she wished, Liz wanted to own Steve, not she loved or liked him, she just wanted him, to posses him was all she was thinking of, to see him in pain would make her happy if she could be the cause of his pain, she wanted him to plead, plead for the mercy from his possessor, the possessor Liz wanted to be, she thought if she could kill him coz he belonged to her, those dark thoughts stirred up all her emotions, the emotions which were beyond any reason or logic or wish or need, just a dead desire to own him was all she felt…
Steve also found Liz charming, every time he thought of the reason he was sitting besides her, he felt a jolt, he wanted to talk to her, he thought its still few hours left before the night, the time which he had decided to kill her so he will just talk to her, but being friendly with your victim just before you hit wasn’t a protocol to be followed and he chose to maintain magnanimous silence…

“So you are a detective”, asked Liz

“No, why would you ask that”, appalled, he replied

“Just your appearance”

“Ohh!! I am just an actor, a thespian you see”

“I never saw you before”

“I just started with it”

“That’s great”

Liz wanted to talk further, but as usual she found nothing to talk about, and was searching for a conversation starter, and soon she was lost into her own world…
It was dark outside and soon everyone would be sleeping thought Steve, this would be the time, but using a gun wont be possible so he decided to slit her throat, and then he closed his eyes to plead for the mercy and to be forgiven for the sin he would undertake…

It was around 03:00 hrs when a lady cried, HELP!! HELP!!
She was a fellow passenger who first saw the blood all over the floor, soon all lamps were fired and train guard came in, he examined the body and found some one had slit his throat and ripped it apart most brutally, Steve was dead…
Liz was missing…

Today, Liz smiled at that man sitting just behind her and said,

“You look beautiful, you are a treat to my eyes”

And who am I??

I am nothing, but a treat to your eyes.

         

Courtesy:

1.   Ruchi Ballal, for helping me with the story in blue.

2.   Hari, for all the help.       

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Credits
Image - Alston Station by Wandering Soul
Courtesy - www.deviantart.com via www.blogaton.in