must kill her. I must do it. I have no other option, thought Richard. Gaby was his sister-in-
law. Widow of his brother after he had died in a car accident leaving Ajay without a home or
any income. Gaby expected him to work and earn his own living as she was already
struggling financially for herself and her son. He felt he had right over all of his brother’s
insurance. He also felt he had more right over the house where he didn’t feel welcome any
longer. Gaby had come into his brother’s life just three years ago. Her harsh and unkind
words while asking him to get job made it clear, he won’t have a welcome home to live in
much longer. These were the excuses he gave to his conscience.
He had already pushed her down the stairs. She was supposed to be dead by now according to
the plan. But she wasn’t.
Ajay was only eighteen and desperate. He was helpless. He was a victim of a vicious thing
called life. He shouldn’t have to deal with all this. He was supposed to be having fun like his
peers. This act of his was not immoral. Just desperation. Although unusual but not immoral or
criminal. Of course everybody could not understand this. That’s why it was unusual. But not
a cold-blooded crime. Only a person in his situation could understand him. And that person
would not call it a crime. That was the reassurance he gave himself.
The psychopath didn’t care. He saw Gaby at the bottom of the stairs, writhling in pain. He
quickly calculated the damage. The bottom-most rib had cracked, he knew it because her
chest had hit the edge of a stair. If this was correct, it must have stabbed her stomach leading
to internal bleeding. Gaby coughed and spat out blood all across room. He was right. He
smiled. Her head had hit the railing. She was having a concussion. He could tell from her
dizzy eyes and nauseous expression. “Good.” He thought. She was having a hard time
breathing and was trembling. He could tell she was in pain. He was thoroughly enjoying it
too. It was exactly like he had imagined it.
One week ago, he had decided to kill Gaby. But he wanted to make it least painful and as
quick as possible. The stairs seemed the easiest way to make it look like an accident too. So,
he began his research. One after another he googled all his questions to make a fool-proof
“deaths from falling from stairs” “injuries from falling down the stairs” “concussion from
falling off stair” “bleeding from falling off stairs “ “concussions” “rib injuries from falls”
“blood from rib injuries” “pain from rib injuries” “pain” “death”
The more he read, the more fascinating it became. He could hurt Gaby just like she had hurt
him and humiliated him. He could give her pain. He could make her feel helpless. And
desperate. Just like he had felt. Under his control. Under his power. Completely dominated
and broken. Then why shouldn’t he? Why should he give her a quick and painless death?
Why shouldn’t he abuse her like she deserved.
He could see her face in the moonlight. Red. Flushed. Scared. He began walking down the
stairs. He could feel her desperation. She could not see his face as the moon shone in from the
window behind him. She could only make out that it was a large grown man. She thought it
could be Ajay but it was not his body language. The psychopath was also about six feet tall.
Walking down the stairs. Slowly. She was afraid. She tried to run but could not get up as she
had twisted her ankle. She fell down into a clump, weak but it was too late. The psychopath
had come. He sat down on the last stair, watching her struggle. Once, twice, thrice. He got
bored and walked around her and stood right behind her. He took out a knife and kneeled. He
slowly began slitting her throat. One centimetre at a time. Blood spurt out and so did a
scream He covered her mouth with one hand and continued with another. The sounds she
made were incomprehensible. Pain. Anguish. Agony. Each muffled scream giving him a high
until the serene silence of death at the end. This gave him satisfaction like no other. Death
was so serene and peaceful. Murder was so serene and peaceful. Tranquility objectified and
It was the first time he had felt such a sensation, such a rush, such an adrenaline high. It was
new, euphoric. Though with a tinge of sadness because he knew he would never feel it for the
first time again. Again? Again. Then and there he knew he would do it again. For the rush,
the high and finally the tranquility that he got from killing. Controlling life and death. He had
felt power, real power. He had felt godliness. Something no one could ever take away from
him, no matter how tough, malicious or confusing his life ever became again.
Ajay locked the house and walked back to his mother’s house where he was sleeping for the
night with Gaby’s son Porter. The best was yet to come. The first thing porter would see
tomorrow would his mother’s dead body. Throat slit. Lying in the biggest pool of blood he
would ever see and always remember. Tomorrow he would rob porter of his childhood, his
happiness and all of his remaining hope. Tomorrow his revenge would be complete. After he
had wronged everyone who had ever wronged him.