Rest In Peace – A short story.

The Snap-



Even the most daring of the prostitutes, avoided that alley, not because that it did not have customers with deep pockets and weird fantasies to be fulfilled but because it was a bad omen. In better words, a suicide wish. Death was blatantly splashed across the walls like cheap paint peeling away at it's frayed corners. Life just decayed there, breathing into the environment it's remains, dark, damp, putrid smell of rotting soul. A better stage could not have been asked for, for the drama that was about to happen.

It was inhumanly cold like the silence that cloaked and drank the alley in it's darkness. The three men stood there staring at each other, daring the others to make a move. One of them, a dull red shirt was the first one to make the move. He rushed at the other two with his knife, eyes full of murderous intent, no wonder he missed the misgivings of the ground below him. He tripped and fell down with a dull thud. He laid there on the bare lifeless gravel, with his own life slowly ebbing out of him along with the blood dripping out of his broken forehead.

The other two looked at each other and exchanged a smirk. “What a shmuck!!!”. Fucking died; without even putting up a decent fight. One of the standing two, the sadistic leader slowly came forward, with measured steps, eying the red shirt for any last signs of life. After all they will have to confirm the kill but what really is the fun in rushing things. After all, the fun has just started. Hasn't it?? .

He tried arousing the dying man with his feet, which answered with no response. “Shit!!” He thought. He never got his arousals until he heard them cry and beg for mercy, to just finish them off and when people went out without that last cry of anguish, it enraged him. He kicked with his heavy soles into the abdomen, the victim cried out in the bliss of the pain. The tormentor grunted his approval with a malicious grin that lit his face in the dead darkness of the alley. He turned and looked at the face of his partner and beckoned him to join the fun.

It was then that fate started to cast it's own dice. He felt pain, sudden succumbing pain. A knife stuck into his shin was so hard, it ruptured a few veins that blood didn’t just ooze out but slowly flowed to paint the alley road a dense dark crimson. Instinct took over all his senses and be simply bended over holding his leg. A mistake and just as he realized that the knife was all the way through his left eye, tearing apart the softer tissues of the brain. He fell down dead.

Exhausted with his vengeance with the knife, the dull red shirt laid there panting and fighting for air in the cesspool of blood. The third guy now shivering and white faced enough to term him a corpse slowly edged towards them; dead and the nearly dead, and stood there twitching in fear not knowing what to do. Must have been a bit of a gutsy guy for his first murder, he slowly knelt down to check on his comrade and just then, it happened. The red shirt in his attempt to breath through all the gathering blood opened his mouth and started to choke in his own bloody mess. He died, giving gave away his last breath;A ghoulish guttural.

That low haunting sound broke whatever remaining guts, the third guy had. He started to run as if he was possessed. Not just out of the alley but he ran until every single muscle in his soul was totally exhausted. His fear washed away with the remnants of his sweat. He did not want to be there. He wished he did not see what he just saw. He did not want to stop running. He just ran.People, when they fighting death after putting up what they think it is their final struggle, simply surrender themselves to it without even trying. Maybe that was why, when the third guy realized that he had stopped running in front of a speeding truck, he didn’t even try to dodge. He became one of those hit and run casualties, dead even before hitting the ground.

The sky slowly darkened in mourning and the sound of the rain drops mixed with the sirens of the ambulance and resonated all along the alley as distant echoes.

Three were dead. There was no relation or any similarities that were found between them in investigation except of course in the burial ceremony, where all the three were said to be the children of god who were pure in soul and though good in character, had been corrupted and forgiveness was asked, for the almighty is all forgiving and benevolent.


And the dead could rest in peace. For after all, the dead rarely lament.





Amen.



Author's note-

I have always loved dark stories & I think that this is just my own version of a very short murder story. I wrote this a while ago. I just thought it would be apt for posting after editing a few parts of it. Hope you guys like it.


I am a bit busy traveling and may not visit your blogs regularly. Please do bear with me. I will catch up with you guys soon.


Cheers...