sLaughter

The tiny drop of blood traveled down to her chin slowly like a delicate leaf falling from a tree during autumn. Time is endless; it never stops to wait for anyone. Andy froze in his seat for a moment when he heard Madeline pronounce ‘serial killer’ with such passion and in a darkly manner.

How did she know? He wondered to himself as the seconds passed him like the speed of light. He is calm in his seat, sitting properly without a word coming from his tender lips. Then he spoke:

“You say you are a fan of murder, Madeline, am I right?” He does not wait for her response and continues. “I never thought you would have figured it out so easy, you’re much faster than the police.” Silence takes over them both for a brief moment, the tick, tock of the clock quietly ticking in the background of the dimly lit dinning room.

Madeline tries to study him, his next move and say, but she cannot. Andy gracefully takes hold of the knife at the side of his plate, bringing it in front of his face to carefully examine its sharpness. “Tell me Madeline, are you so very fond of murder you will consider working with me? I have fun doing all the pretty work myself, but finding you as strange as I would make us a lovely pair. I have never met anyone quite like you in my entire life, and sharing this hobby of mine with one of my own kind will be fascinating. May I ask for your partnership, my lady?”

The offer opposed is too soon, leaving Madeline in shock of agreeing or not. She finally knew how to get back and break her own silence. “You never answered my question. I believe I was first, so I deserve a first answer.”

A mischievous smirk ran through his perfect lips all of a sudden. “I am not a fool. I would never have told you my perfectly dirty secret; else I would have to kill you for you to find out. You were to find out on your own; besides, if I told you right away, that would have been a stupid thing to do since I am a serial killer, don’t you think?” He said seriously, chuckling at the end to insult Madeline. “Ha! Silly girl.” He stands up slowly, tracing the lines on this palm with the tip of the knife, and stares out the big window to watch every tear drop from the sky pound against the cold glass and outside the city. "A serial killer never admits to a beautiful girl like you he is a serial killer." He turns around, slowly, with a dark and crazed expression in his face.

-x-

Oliver is very upset to find Madeline with a man in her apartment. He never thought she would be with someone, at all, because of her way of being towards men. How did this happen? He thought over and over. He was in the room back from the lobby desk, sitting in front of a little television while drinking a mug of coffee. He wasn't paying attention of what was on T.V. since he is mixed up consciously and anxious to know the answer why Madeline could do this to him. He's had so many fantasies about her they almost seemed real.

"No!" He shouts to himself. "I won't allow it."

He rushes to the door leading him back to the lobby, grabbing his set of keys along the way. The place looks deserted, despite the late hour. He slowly walks out from behind the desk to lock the doors of the building. He decides to take the elevator since it is more quiet to travel up to Madeline's floor.

I might be taking this a little too sudden, I haven't even told her about my feelings for her, Oliver thinks, feeling a bit guilty for what he has not done long ago but will do just about now. He carefully inserts the key into the key hole of the heavy brown door and twists at the knob delicate and slow. With a foot trespassing Madeline's floor, he slips through the slim crack he opened for himself and carefully closed the door behind him. The place is dark and warm, yet he is cold with fear. What will happen after this? He is confused in thought but his body demands for a woman to complete him even if she does not have any feelings but hate for him.

Why was he doing this? Why now? What is he going to do? Why not before? The pressure. Oh, the peer pressure he was placing himself upon, it couldn't stop!

He made his way through the living room, ending up somewhere in the kitchen, then the dining room. He was lost in the darkness, and the dark red colors of the walls gave the night a helping degree of obscurantism. He wondered around on this sneaky feet from here to there, careful not to make much noise and quiet of traveling through without touching anything. How slick it seemed when he found Madeline's room after a while. Her resting hourglass body under the sheets of her comforting bed under the moonlight from the window captured her innocence and beauty.

Sweat began to form under his armpits and forehead. His thighs began to shake in fear and excitement, causing his body to shake and his knees to wobble.

Without taking his eye off Madeline , he reached for his left shoe to take it off.

His heart pounds in a throbbing manner like a needling injecting the skin repeatedly for no reason.

He takes off his right shoe.

His lips chap and, as he licks them for hydration, his eyes widen with the smooth steps he takes toward her.

As he unbuttons his shirt hastily, Madeline shuffles in her bed. Oliver freezes, not taking his eyes off her, his heart pound and sweat slipping down his goose-bumped skin. Madeline moans softly and turns to face the opposite side of where Oliver stands. He smiles, for now she cannot see him directly and most likely not suspect anyone there if he is quiet enough.

He pulls at his pants, fast. The sweat on his skin makes his body cold. As he makes his way toward the bed with sleeping Madeline. Lifting the covers, his sets himself slowly inside, moving toward Madeline's body at the other side of the bed.

Her eyes open. Madeline, being a light sleeper, feels strange movement behind her. All she can do is lie still and figure out what is happening in the dark. She feels a light and nervous hand on her shoulder. Secretly wishing, she asks the figure over her as she turns herself to face the person who is accompanying her. "Andy?"