All Hallows Eve, Murder in Grave II

Door Made in America gepubliceerd op Saturday 07 February 13:55

All Hallows Eve, Murder in Grave II

Back to the beginning? Part I

Kama bent down to take a look at the man's mouth. She could see the vapor from her own mouth in the fresh air. Nothing came from the man. A sense of euphoria shot through her body. What a joy! The panicky fear that she had felt, had her mind completely in its grasp. She could not escape this feeling. Had she been afraid of herself? Was this the reason that she could not escape anymore and had struck the man? It was hidden inside of her for so long. The killer in her had won. She could finally kill! At last, this feeling provided what she had been looking for her whole life! For the first time she felt immense happiness! She looked down at the man lying at her feet one last time. His head laid in a pool of blood. Just before the blood hit her shoes, she stepped back and turned around. With the stone in her hand, she walked away with a new self-confidence from this place where her first victim had met his end. For a moment she felt one with her great role model, "Kamatayan" as she was called. "Death" was one with her.


Fulfilled, she walked along the quay back to her frugal apartment. The cobblestone had absorbed the blood by now. She flaunted the stone as a trophy on the windowsill. Satisfied, she took off her clothes and crawled into bed under the covers. She had gotten sleepy from her adventure.


Kamatayan awoke the next morning. She had to go to work as usual. She stood up and felt like she had never felt before. A new day! Magnificent! Glad to be awake again!  She thought to herself. Her lonely existence had produced something for the first time that she had dreamed of for a long time. The night in which she had committed her first murder, was over. She put on her bathrobe and walked out of her bedroom. A smile on her face appeared when she walked into the living room. She saw her first trophy on the windowsill, the cobblestone. She walked to the windowsill and looked observantly at the shape of the stone. This stone was formed so naturally and unpredictable. Carved out of a rock, smeared with blood from the previous night. The blood was completely dry now and had turned to a brownish color. She picked up the stone and let her mind wander to what she had experienced the night before.


In the shower she pampered herself with a wonderful warm stream of water. The warmth she felt inside, became stronger by the heat of the shower. A while later, after she had dried herself off and was dressed, she decided to put on some make-up. The darkest colors caught her attention. She felt magnificently sinister and vicious. She could finally release her dark side. She could do what she appeared to be in good, murder! With this feeling she walked out the front door of her house. She walked through the streets of Grave. She thought about how this name had originated. She knew this was degenerated from "dig" or "pit". She herself would rather believe that "Grave" literally originated from the English language. Grave had become a grave for many soldiers in the past. Grave was now a grave due to Kamatayan’s first victim. She was responsible for this gruesome act.


She continued her way past the Arsenal, one of the remaining fortress in Grave. In the 13th century there stood another castle which appealed more to Kamatayan's vision. She knew that this castle was demolished to make way for the Arsenal. She continued thinking about the history of this building. It had also housed a mental state institution and later a prison and even a youth detention center. Murderers, violent offenders, witches and heretics had perhaps been here! What had taken place here? Now the building was completely empty. Spirits of the dead now wander the halls. It had become a haunted house, a haunted house with style.


When Kamatayan arrived at work she heard the topic of conversation everywhere: "There was a man murdered in the streets of Grave last night! The police are looking for forensic evidence. Tonight they are doing a passersby inquiry! Hopefully they will catch that horrific killer!" Kamatayan was shocked by these statements. She tried to ignore what was being said and walked by unnoticed, like her co-workers were used too, to her workplace, the produce section. On the way she passed the newsstands with magazines and newspapers. It was all over the newspapers: "Man killed in Grave. Killer wanted. Why did this man had to die?" The headlines were racing through Kamatayan’s mind. For a brief moment she realized what she had done. Lost in her thoughts, she walked into the cooling area and got started on her work. She had to cut the watermelon, so she grabbed a large knife. Blind with rage, she sliced the watermelon in half in one, clean cut. A malicious smile slowly spread onto her face. It feels good to be angry!, she thought.


She imagined what it would be like to kill someone with a knife. How it would feel to cut through the flesh of someone's throat. She was enjoying the moment and for a few minutes forgot the reality of what was going on around her. She really did not want to dwell on the fact that she had just killed an innocent man on an impulse! Yet, there would be a moment when she had to go back into the store. She had to stock the fruit and vegetables. The phone in the cooling area rang. They are on to me! They know!, she thought. "Hello?" She said hesitantly when she picked up the phone. "Hey Kamatayan, could you weigh some bananas for me?" Said the cashier on the other end of the line. "I'm on my way!", Kamatayan said as natural as possible. Moments later she came walking through the store. She felt as if she was being watched. Feelings of shame and pride were constantly colliding with each other.


Fortunately, no one noticed what was going on with her. The cashier looked friendly at her, and said: "I have not seen you yet today! How's it going?" "Allright. I will go weigh the bananas!", Kamatayan said with a unpretentious smile. How I hate these kinds of people. Why are they being so nice? I don't feel it., she thought. Kamatayan weighed the bananas compliantly, and thought about how she would cut the cashier's throat with the knife she had just cut the watermelon with. This gave her a blissful feeling rather than all that over exaggerated friendliness. When she got back to the cashier, she had an amicable look on her face at the thought of, Your turn will come!


To be continued…            Part III

Translated from Dutch to English with permission of stormerwout

Translated by Niki (aka Made in America)


Made in Amerika

All Hallows Eve, Murder in Grave

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