The Aura

I was facing a grim reality that the conceived idea I was trying to make work would not come to fruition. My dillydallying was what keeping me from progressing. Something had to move and until some decisions that had been planned were acted upon, I would just be thinking wishfully. I no longer looked at my timepiece for fear it would further reinforce the presence of demoralization that was slowly creeping and trying to defeat my resolve. The imaginary ticktack sound of time was pushing me to the edge of panic. I was waiting for some right moment while time was slipping past that would soon put me in an untenable situation, and force me to do what was not planned that would end up disastrously. To overcome my weakness, I had to act boldly and throw all inhibitions, if not I would surrender in defeat without even trying.

The cure for my malady that my shadow had tempted me to pursue was slowly keeping out of my reach. It was my incompetence for not preparing myself on every aspects of my endeavor and had me endlessly blaming it for the unraveling failure. I could almost see Moonface jeering at me; exultant at the created mess I had put myself into; incensed at my temerity for even imagining to make her a villain of my wild illusions. She was looking at my incompetence and the conspicuous weakness and fear that were printed all over my face, and seized on them to mock and shame me.

The receding line on the second bottle has slowed a bit. Moonface’s gripped on her glass loosened; it had become apparent that she finally succumbed to the effect of the booze. Her other hand hanged limp and immobile from her shoulder like a dead wood hanging from a tree trunk. Overall, her pathetic figure laid before me an almost lifeless body with the sight of her head bowed so low that her chin had touched the line of her neck bone. The thick liquid coming from her ajared mouth made a slow dripping and formed like a sticky sap slowly creeping down from a tree trunk. Instead of continuing its fall, it stopped halfway waiting for that additional drip to push it downward and complete its journey to its inevitable destination.

I left my chair and stood near her side looking down at the stillness of her body. I was perplexed how she could ever live with such miserable life when she could choose to live off on her accumulated wealth and enjoy life while she still could. I inhaled a deep breath and went back to my chair. Two fingers of my one hand involuntarily began tapping the top of the table while my brain was raising to complete the sinister design that was presently waiting to be carried out. I had a dreaded foreboding about the future, but the overwhelming desire had again and again overpowered whatever moral inhibitions that had tried to stop me.

Slowly I walked near the safe and stared at the arrangement of bottles resting on its top. I took a hold on the can opener and played the fingers of my right hand on it, while my other hand went to rearrange the position of the bottles by pushing them to the center top of the safe. With the bottles moved, the knife lying obscurely among the bottles had come in full view. I looked at the knife dreadfully and took a deep sigh. Replacing the can opener on the metal top, I picked up the knife’s handle and ran my fingers on its sharp edge and into its pointed tip. Turning my right wrist, I looked at the face of my watch; the time is in the wee hours.

I turned my head to look at the cracked window panes of the living room. The wind was still rampaging outside and so did the pouring of heavy rain. Strong splashes of rainwater pushed by the wind on the cracked glasses of the windows were creating sharp sounds on impact. Leaves of trees and small twigs carried by the strong gust were visibly plastered on the panes' outside surfaces. The racket of loud banging metals and the sound of their impact dropping on the ground made me to conclude that the dangling roof gutters had finally surrendered to the force of the wind. As the storm was making havoc on everything in its path, I also would soon follow its trail. I was in the last stage of preparing to make mayhem on civilization’s consensual rules on man’s accepted behavior.

There was an impromptu change of plan. I could no longer carry it out in the bathroom as I initially planned. Circumstance gave me the opportunity to perform it where she is now; in a situation where she would be helplessly vulnerable. I had no more excuses to prolong the anxiety that I had been torturing myself with, and unless there was one convincing reason to forego what I had contrived, then the next step was to proceed.

Holding the knife behind my back I approached Moonface with a calculated step. I positioned myself in front of her side trying to figure the location of the pair of main veins on her neck. The moment I was assured of the right place, I retracted my right hand from my back and thrust the knife on the side of her neck. There was a surge of so much power energizing my hand that I felt no significant effort to plunge the knife where I had envisioned it to be. Blood oozed out instantly from the puncture.

My expectation that she would go peacefully was shattered immediately when her unmoving right hand resting on the table roused by the pain made an involuntary defensive swipe hitting me in the abdomen. The unexpected force made me lurched backward that I eventually lost my footing. I lost hold of the knife; it stayed stuck on the side of Moonface’s neck. Before I fell, I saw both of her hands quickly raced and grappled with the stuck knife on her neck. She instantaneously pulled it out. There was a sickening howl when the knife was extracted out. She was completely in pain and deliriously in rage. She turned her face down to me with eyes full of hatred. The devilish look of the pupils grew bigger and was now concentrated on me. Her mouth was wide open with the tongue trying to stretch out but only able to reach the tip of her lips. Breathing heavily to try to grasp for an air, she attempted to rise from her seat while a hand held a tightly grip on the knife covered with her own blood.

I was horrified when she started to walk to where I had fallen. She began to approach me in an unsteady manner taking her steps one at a time dragging her feet over the splattered abundance of blood on the floor while not removing the plugged hand on the wound. My brain was screaming commanding me to make a move, but I was frozen with fear. Before she could take another step, her whole body came crashing beside me, and with it the knife landing above my head. After several visible spasms of her bloodied body, it finally lay motionless at my side in a prone position with the front of her head facing the other side away from my face. The wound on her neck was practically facing my eyes directly when I turned to face the slumped body; small trickle of blood was continuously pulsating out of her wound. My fear was immediately subdued by the presence of blood all around me. The sight of so much blood awakened something inside me. Never bothered to know if she was still alive or dead, I rose and rushed to remove everything I was wearing. When I was completely naked, I dived on the blood flooded floor like a thirsty animal wallowing on a mud thickened water hole. I bathed myself with the smooth feel of the thick red liquid relishing the inexplicable pleasure that I felt on each rub on my skin. Reserving for the final act of the ritual, I closed my eyes and waited for my shadow to inject himself into the scene. Instead of the shadow it was the real me who appeared with the young woman from the Riz. Her naked body was surrounded with the white color of an aura signifying the impersonation of a long-gone goddess of beauty and eroticism, which had now come alive in front of me for my all-encompassing gratification. I pulled her near me and felt the softness of her skin. Her body was covered by that alluring and seductive scent that electrified my body to spur it to make the most erotic arousal I ever had. I kept her closer in my arms and in a rhythmic motion of a dance I slowly penetrated her. I pumped my flesh on her like I had never done to a woman before. I was moaning with utmost sexual pleasure trying to reach the threshold where the music of harps, trumpets and cymbals came to be played.

I opened my eyes when the sound of music of the angels’ ensemble came. I was lying with my blood covered naked body trembling with excitement as my right hand went with its passion-induced motion. The ultimate moment came. White thick fluid was ejected from my body and mixed with the blood on my hand and into the disturbed pool of blood on the floor.