Interlude IV:
He bathes in the sea of chaos he had created. His charcoal stained hands draws a sketch of a woman on the wall. The three angels have tears of blood in their eyes and every time he sees them, he feels an unfamiliar clench of his heart. It wasn't guilt of trying to kill the two and actually killing the third, it was disappointment in those three women. He couldn't see the primordial decompose to being ordinary mortals and shrivel under the umbrella of morality.
So he had decided to make them eternal.
Alecto. Megaera. Tisiphone.
And what did that make him?
But the fourth one was different. She was like the big red gash of paint on a plain white paper. His eyes had followed her the first time he had seen her and it had aroused him when he saw her quietly listening to the other three. She was perfect. Seeing her was like coming home like life had finished its one big circle. She was the mother he wished he had had and the lover he always dreamt of having. He wanted her to consume him in the way night consumed the dusk and like dawn, he would break away from her embrace and wait for her arrival in sheer agony until dusk. And then, the cycle continues.
His fingers stall for a moment as his eyes seek the object that had brought him very close to her. The knife was a sensual reminder of her in his studio. Every time he drove the knife in that woman's body, the release he felt from that action was almost sexual. The act had completely shaken his core and he had relived those moments again and again since that night. Every time his eyes fell on the knife, he could almost visualize the owner using it to cut vegetables. He had seen her from afar after her best friend's murder and her bloodshot eyes and Rudolph red nose had send a pang of guilt on his spine. He had shivered slightly at the sight of her and inhaled the air deeply as she passed him, head down.
Geet.
A reverend sigh escapes his lips and his hands still from the act of sketching. He runs his hands on the sketch of the woman who he is fantasizing and remembering and fights the desperate desire that has bubbled in his belly to see her. The charcoal in his hands crumbled as he closes his eyes in agony of being separated from her and bits of them falls on the floor. He touched his forehead to hers, on the sketch, and prayed God to give him strength for the thing he was going to do to her.
He slowly walks to the other side of the room and picks up the knife. Blood is dried from the surface but he could swear the knife had a blood vein of its own because the knife had come alive in his hands. He would use it only once more before he could totally surrender to it.
The kindly ones were now dead. Nyx was next in line to go across the Styx and he being the ferryman took her there.
And after that, only darkness would be there for him.
Cricket
Bade Achche Lagte Hain Naya Season
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