The House Of Cards – Part One

Keith ran for his life, and soon his breath caught up to him, his muscles ached and he was sweating at a miserable rate. He didn’t want to look back, as he knew that would only amplify his fears. The sound of the footsteps of both the men synchronized, though buried by the rain, but Keith could hear each step and with each step he felt his predator was getting closer. He didn’t understand anything. He saw that man every other place he himself went to. At the soccer match, at the basketball game, in the market, this time, by the phone booth. That same man, with that same black fedora, along with black trenchcoat, neatly covering the black fullsuit the gentleman wore, contrasting with the white shirt. And on top of that, a lavender tie that swayed with murderous rage (read: Kolaveri Di). That same man, holding in his left hand a steel knife; sharpened to its utmost capacity, with a wooden handle, as he gently played it between his fingers.

Nightmare

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I didn’t know how or why I’d come here. My memory was vague and bleak. All I knew was that I had to get out… before they came for me.

The corridor was well-lit, with glowing torches on either side. But even these could not eradicate the eerie feeling emitted by the walls of stone.

Thud. Thud. Thud. 

That was my queue to run. And so I did. The yellow torches on either side of me appeared as shooting stars as I darted past them. He was coming after me… The Executioner.

Have A Nice Day

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“And when the world gets in my face, I say.. Have a nice day.”

‘Tis Funny

Bang.
The moment spanning over a second seemed like thousand frames going in slow motion. The trigger retracted, a yellow spark shot out from the barrel. The frozen, frightened expression, begged for life. Life shot out of him in a fraction of a second. Life shot out of him, just as quick as the bullet left the barrel, navigating straight into the middle of his temple. A Bull’s Eye, one might say. As the bullet pierced his head and embedded itself neatly, pushing his soul out without reluctance. Who was he? For him, he was the world, the only support of his three children, the only love of his loyal wife. For the one three metres away, he was no one. A scum who had to be eradicated. A blemish on the face of this Earth. A sinner whose only sin was being born.