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Murder isn't Always a Crime
The whistles of night guards in the Suntrail Street echoed through the moonlight. One of them expressly guarded The Landgrave Cottage. The house was being owned by the famous-in-market businessman Mr. Reichs. The whole zone was lively with silence. The population there was substantial. The guard gawked hard at the darkened room above the terrace of the cottage one last time before taking his way.
Every story has its own secret to unfold. Back in the old dark attic was no isolation. The loneliness was now accompanied by Priscilla. She took the bunch of red roses in her hand and exchanged a hazel gaze with the reflection on the mirror. The reflection detained a beautiful woman in it; dressed in a while satin wedding gown; silk bows tucked in with blood-red ruby stones; her brunette hair styled in wave by her side; two fine curls glided by her chin. It was full moon. Large glass windows scratched and covered with dust; old vintage furniture covered in white robes, literally meaning the segregation that has lingered here for years. There lay a simple-designed coffin; the only thing that was uncovered. There were twenty five candles positioned over the cabinet but only twenty four of them burned. But Priscilla looked as if not to notice anything of it. She acted more like the best part of the isolation. It was a very special night for her. She didn’t take sign of any unusual thing going on in the attic; neither the spider web on the mirror nor the letters labeling her name placed beside the old perfume bottles. The only thing she could have a vision of was the dreams, the beautiful dreams the blinded her eyes. The wedding was different though. The bride did not have a bridesmaid, her hair wasn’t covered with veil and tiara; and to the surprise she wore a ring on her left ring finger! Priscilla came down by the wooden staircase to the hall with the most innocent smile curved on her lips. Down in the hall everything was normal; the scenario, the interior decoration, everything finished with a modern touch; every corner packed with best facilities of the century. No one would believe the house had such an old haunted attic.
Priscilla erected there beside the large photo frame which held a couple photo. She felt a warm touch around her waist. “I love you.” A voice Priscilla could die for whispered with the most tender it could hold. The soft giggles of the heavenly couples filled the hall. All the left behind memories seemed to come live to Priscilla, thrilling her. She blinked her eyes hard. A pearl clear teardrop ran down her cheek. Little did she know what destiny had to gift her? Tonight everything of hers was for someone; someone she had loved…forever.
Reichs was unable to get back to the sleep. He grew impatient as he watched the clock to tic at 2:00. His anxiety started to loiter in him. Reichs got up, relieving himself from the sweat drops that covered his face and made his way to the balcony; aiming to take a walk. As he approached to it, the soft gale began to blow, convincing him of a prophecy that was about to be carried on ….Tonight.
“Hey there, Damon!” A sudden female voice startled him. He beheld back to discover Priscilla. “I knew that you’ll wait.” She stared into the master bed where Mrs. Reichs was deep asleep. “I kept my promise and now I am back, sweetheart.” She stopped with a circuitous smile and then leaned over to kiss him. “I missed you.” She whispered into his ears.
Mr. Reichs was all in sweat by now. He froze there, unable to speak or move. His past was now conquering his beautiful presence; anticipating ruining his near future. He couldn’t contemplate of any other way. But he didn’t let Priscilla perceive what state he was into. He took her hands into his and said “Let’s go, my love.” The two figures wiped out into the dusk.
“Where are we headed to?” Damon asked.
“It’s only minutes to reach there.”
They clogged at the graveyard just before the forbidden forest. In the sequestered valley only the silence spoke; the ground had the trace of dead only and the decoration was of white crosses and dying roses over coffin beds. The wind howled.
“Here? Aren’t we supposed to be in the church? Aren’t we going to be together, forever?”
“We are and that’s the reason of my presence tonight, dear. Don’t worry, now I am here; will fix everything down.” Priscilla whispered.
She turned back and behind her Damon froze. He discerned something real bad was about to happen. Priscilla crooked again and this time a silver knife sparked in her hands. Her eyes were razing with anger. The blue darkness hurt Damon’s eyes. He was on his knees, holding up his balance with the cross behind him.
“Are you scared?” Priscilla asked. “You must not be. After tonight we’re going to be together for every moment that will come to our life.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” he devoured hard.
“What do you mean Damon?” Priscilla flashed.
“Please don’t. I said I will marry you.” Damon pleaded.
“You sure will…uh we sure will. But you know, I just don’t belong here and you took it so long to comprehend.”
“I loved you.”
“That’s why I am here.” Priscilla played with the knife and glided by his face. Maybe the pleading face of her love shook her so she spoke, “Why are you afraid of death now?”
“Forgive me. I did not mean to and you know that.”
“Oh, do I?” her eyes blazed like fire. Her soul was now impatient. “I have forgiven you my love. Don’t be afraid of death. It has taken care of me for decades. And now it will have a new company. Come on’ get up. We own the night.” She exclaimed with a happy mist in her eyes. The conversation went way too long.
“You’re right!” Damon was now on his feet. Priscilla frowned, somewhat bewildered by the sudden change. He made his way to her; wrapped his arms around her fine waist and whispered in her ears, “We own the night.” They let themselves thawed into long wanted moment and on them, they could hold on forever. But Damon made sure he made the right move.
Priscilla’s astonished eyes stroked on his heart but he was unpitying by now. His hands did not wobble when he stroked her by the knife; promising her love. The bride in white dress fell on her knees; her white satin dress drenched in her own blood and every single thing wiped out being witnessed by the dusk.
Reich struggled to make it to the highway. He was all blank. He couldn’t remember anything. But all he knew that it happens every full moon. His merciless destiny just couldn’t let him go and nor his past. Maybe he regrets what he had done decades before but it’s too late to realize now. Dead are dead and they don’t belong to this dimension. But it was his love for Pris that forced him to take this step, reincarnating her by the ancient Greek rituals. And now it’s been haunting him and maybe will forever. He stared hard at his hands which were once drained in Priscilla’s blood…years ago, under a full moon. Love plays cruel part sometimes. Now, he kills her corpse every year; punishing his own deed that was buried into his secrets and too late to grieve over. But Reich knows, these times murder is not a crime. It’s just a fake try to escape his written destiny.