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A Psyche Collision (standard:Psychological fiction, 1914 words)
Author: WalkerAdded: Apr 22 2008Views/Reads: 1456/687Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
two pyscho minds collide...
 



‘Living is a troublesome business: there is pain to be suffered, and it
wrings one's heart; but death is a splendid thing: a task accomplished 
and a beginning all over again, a triumph. You can always see that in 
their white faces.' 

For him it all started with a desire, and turned into a need. And for
her, she said it was pleasure; a kind of revenge. But because of her 
lust she acquired it and then it became an urge to pass it on, 
taciturnly. 

She displayed affection in her eyes that told him she had given her
heart to him. He portrayed himself a wayward mind that was too much for 
just a woman to get hold of it. He told her that he was interested only 
in his thoughts, weird or familiar. She told him that she'd wait for 
him forever. He didn't give a second glance but somehow her name stuck 
and every time toxins got into him, that name would start ringing in 
his head. Those toxins gave such a hit that he could almost feel her 
touch, hear her voice and it felt as if she was right next to him. She 
became his ultimate fantasy and he would always keep thinking of things 
he would do to her. She was the next victim if he ever came across her 
again. He would, somehow he knew. 

Drugs were a bet with his mind, he knew all along. But every night as
the clock struck a new hour, the intake of toxins increased and then 
his mind would wander deep into unknown territories of gore where he 
would imagine ways to find that girl and do her wild; slice, dice and 
chop her haphazardly and bury her body under her own house and leave 
her head hanging above the very bed they would warm up. He had even 
developed ideas of what to do with the tidbits. 

His mind that was ill at ease was agitated by both hope and fear. The
continuous failures in finding her whereabouts were getting hard on 
him. He was losing hope and the fear of not executing his plan was 
getting hard on him. Result was the increase in intake of toxins and 
the fury deep within had made him ungratified. Everyone had renamed him 
loneliness and whenever her thoughts recurred he would cry softly into 
time. The cuts and bruises on his body marked his anger, the rage ready 
to be vented out. He had to find her now, at all costs. Her slaughter 
blended with carnage could quench his desires now. 

Death draws its own prey and finally she was discovered at a secluded
place where everyone looked at her with prejudiced eyes. The people 
would maunder that she is a witch living alone and practicing black 
magic. This had happened after her parents had been murdered by feudal 
lords and she had been stripped of her pride. She had avenged herself 
through witchcraft. But he had found out the real story or had been 
told so, it really didn't matter. All he desired was to restore his 
calm and peace. Her parents had died and she would have been raped if 
she had not fled that place. She was now all alone. She needed a 
healing hand. So he decided to be the one. So he began keeping an eye 
over her to grab the first opportunity, first to win over her and then 
commit the murder. He knew she would not have forgotten him. 

And finally an opportunity knocked. He hadn't slept the whole night and
in the wee hours of dawn he saw her going toward the hills. Quickly 
grabbing his coat he started walking after her. She was too entangled 
within her thoughts to notice him following. She kept walking and he 
followed till she reached the brink. She stood there while he gazed 
like a curios crow. But when he saw her spread her hands out he knew it 
was time to run to her. Just as she was about to make the plunge he 
grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back. She struggled for a 
while but gave in and he pinned her to the ground. “Open your eyes and 
look at me,” he shouted. She slowly opened them. Her heart skipped a 
beat. “You...You're back.” “Yes and I've come to end your miseries.” 

Love bloomed and their intimacy increased. But still he waited. He had
waited this long and now when he was so near his goal he could always 
wait a day or two more. He had to completely win over her trust. How 
could he do it? A marriage proposal would suffice. He sent across a 
bouquet and asked her out for dinner. There he would pop the question 
and... 

The fateful night had arrived. He wore a tuxedo and drove to her house.
She was waiting eagerly for him. She had dressed the best she could in 
white; his favorite dislike. He smiled and they drove off. He had 


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