Malicious Complience
A/N: Murder
I stand there, my eyes glancing round the corner every now and again just to make sure my prey is still within my reach. I feel powerful; the Athame that lies within my grasp glints in the shadowed light and makes me smile. I’ve always liked knives, even as a small child but never with a malicious intent. I just like the way they glint in the moonlight and look so majestic, with the ability to end a life in seconds.
Glancing around the corner again I notice you have settled yourself down in that old leather chair by the window, the one your father used to sit in. You sit there pensively staring out the window at the falling snow like he used to, probably contemplating life, love and the universe like you always do. You were always more intelligent than I was, it was one of the things I loved about you. But it does make me wonder why you ever married an uneducated fool like me.
You look so innocent sitting there, if only I could hide my evil like you can. If it wasn’t for Mary whispering it to me during last Sunday’s sermon I would still be none the wiser. If it wasn’t for her I would still be covered in the cloth you pulled over my eyes. Yes, if only I could hide my true self like you can. If only I could shadow the devious glint in my eyes like you do with such proficiency you almost make it a talent. If only. But it’s always if only isn’t it? If only things had been different, if only you hadn’t touched her, if only, if only, if only! If only I didn’t have to do this.
But I do, my tongue pines to taste sweet revenge but more than that I desire to fulfil your wish. Forever and always I am devoted to you, and your word, your wish will always be my command, whatever it is. I may never have been as smart as you but I have a memory like a steel trap.
But what’s in a life anyway, that something as simple as the piece of metal in my hand could end it? What’s in a life that one false move, one unholy action could drive me to using the knife in my hand to end it all for you.
But I am justified in my actions, all the blame lies in the words you spoke to me those many years ago. It’s not my fault, I repeat in my mind, the mantra that’s keeping my sanity. It’s not my fault, its self inflicted…
You’re still sitting there, pale face reflected in the frosty glass; unbeknown to the horror you have ignited, unbeknown to the presence motioning behind you. The bible you were reading lays dormant in your hands as you continue gazing out the window.
With a furrowed brow you concentrate on each falling snowflake, your blue eyes inspecting them like every one contains a meaning that you must understand before they fall.
The candle burning next to you flickers from my movement and catches your attention away from your contemplations. You turn to see me, pale blue eyes meeting mine first filled with curiosity, soon replaced by fear. Your eyes scan down me, reaching my hands and the dagger they contain. Your eyes follow along its curved blade and come to pause on its jewelled hilt. Its bloodstain tip makes you shiver before returning your gaze to mine. Your eyes question me but in response they only receive a cold, lifeless stare. You did this to me though, from my cold lifeless stare right down to my cold lifeless heart.
The chain you always wear that bears the cross your mother gave you makes a perfect gold circle round your slender neck. Taking the knife in my hand I trace around the chain, following the circle it makes carefully before I sit and watching your life blood escape the confines of your skin.
Your breathing is becoming laboured and you look at me, using your last breathes to whisper a question
“Why?”
Your question is only replied with an emotionless stare for I don’t see why you should get an explanation for my actions when I never received one for yours.
You close your eyes and I can tell your praying, that will do you no good now I think as you open your eyes again. Your blue eyes look into mine, drinking in one last look at me before the reaper takes his due.
As I watch your last earthly breath escape your lips I turn away from your pale body sprawled against the mahogany floor, the dark wood complementing the crimson necklace I made for you. Facing away from you I fall to my knees and pray. Not for forgiveness for God will judge me fairly, for it was never my fault, but rather I pray for a request to be granted. Upon my knees I ask my Lord that death may take me also, for life without you is nothing, but I could never take my own life for suicide is but a sin. My lips utter amen as I turn back to you. Looking into your cold lifeless eyes I mutter the words you told me when we were but young men giddy in love, words etched into my memory forever.
“Promise me, you’ll never let me love another man,”
So with my promise kept I kiss your lifeless lips, the lips that will never touch another mans and at that moment my prayers are answered.
The candle sitting by the frosty window flickers twice before fading and another snowflake falls upon the frosty window-sill.
I stand there, my eyes glancing round the corner every now and again just to make sure my prey is still within my reach. I feel powerful; the Athame that lies within my grasp glints in the shadowed light and makes me smile. I’ve always liked knives, even as a small child but never with a malicious intent. I just like the way they glint in the moonlight and look so majestic, with the ability to end a life in seconds.
Glancing around the corner again I notice you have settled yourself down in that old leather chair by the window, the one your father used to sit in. You sit there pensively staring out the window at the falling snow like he used to, probably contemplating life, love and the universe like you always do. You were always more intelligent than I was, it was one of the things I loved about you. But it does make me wonder why you ever married an uneducated fool like me.
You look so innocent sitting there, if only I could hide my evil like you can. If it wasn’t for Mary whispering it to me during last Sunday’s sermon I would still be none the wiser. If it wasn’t for her I would still be covered in the cloth you pulled over my eyes. Yes, if only I could hide my true self like you can. If only I could shadow the devious glint in my eyes like you do with such proficiency you almost make it a talent. If only. But it’s always if only isn’t it? If only things had been different, if only you hadn’t touched her, if only, if only, if only! If only I didn’t have to do this.
But I do, my tongue pines to taste sweet revenge but more than that I desire to fulfil your wish. Forever and always I am devoted to you, and your word, your wish will always be my command, whatever it is. I may never have been as smart as you but I have a memory like a steel trap.
But what’s in a life anyway, that something as simple as the piece of metal in my hand could end it? What’s in a life that one false move, one unholy action could drive me to using the knife in my hand to end it all for you.
But I am justified in my actions, all the blame lies in the words you spoke to me those many years ago. It’s not my fault, I repeat in my mind, the mantra that’s keeping my sanity. It’s not my fault, its self inflicted…
You’re still sitting there, pale face reflected in the frosty glass; unbeknown to the horror you have ignited, unbeknown to the presence motioning behind you. The bible you were reading lays dormant in your hands as you continue gazing out the window.
With a furrowed brow you concentrate on each falling snowflake, your blue eyes inspecting them like every one contains a meaning that you must understand before they fall.
The candle burning next to you flickers from my movement and catches your attention away from your contemplations. You turn to see me, pale blue eyes meeting mine first filled with curiosity, soon replaced by fear. Your eyes scan down me, reaching my hands and the dagger they contain. Your eyes follow along its curved blade and come to pause on its jewelled hilt. Its bloodstain tip makes you shiver before returning your gaze to mine. Your eyes question me but in response they only receive a cold, lifeless stare. You did this to me though, from my cold lifeless stare right down to my cold lifeless heart.
The chain you always wear that bears the cross your mother gave you makes a perfect gold circle round your slender neck. Taking the knife in my hand I trace around the chain, following the circle it makes carefully before I sit and watching your life blood escape the confines of your skin.
Your breathing is becoming laboured and you look at me, using your last breathes to whisper a question
“Why?”
Your question is only replied with an emotionless stare for I don’t see why you should get an explanation for my actions when I never received one for yours.
You close your eyes and I can tell your praying, that will do you no good now I think as you open your eyes again. Your blue eyes look into mine, drinking in one last look at me before the reaper takes his due.
As I watch your last earthly breath escape your lips I turn away from your pale body sprawled against the mahogany floor, the dark wood complementing the crimson necklace I made for you. Facing away from you I fall to my knees and pray. Not for forgiveness for God will judge me fairly, for it was never my fault, but rather I pray for a request to be granted. Upon my knees I ask my Lord that death may take me also, for life without you is nothing, but I could never take my own life for suicide is but a sin. My lips utter amen as I turn back to you. Looking into your cold lifeless eyes I mutter the words you told me when we were but young men giddy in love, words etched into my memory forever.
“Promise me, you’ll never let me love another man,”
So with my promise kept I kiss your lifeless lips, the lips that will never touch another mans and at that moment my prayers are answered.
The candle sitting by the frosty window flickers twice before fading and another snowflake falls upon the frosty window-sill.