The Olympus Killer: A Greek Island Mysteries Thriller

The Olympus Killer: A Greek Island Mysteries Thriller (First Chapter)

THE OLYMPUS KILLER

“As Dawn prepared to spread her saffron mantle over the land, Zeus the Thunderer gathered the gods to the highest peak of many-ridged Olympus, and spoke to them while all listened: ‘Hear me, gods and goddesses, while I say what my heart prompts. Let none of you try to defy me...”

HOMER, The Iliad, Book VIII

Chapter 1

The bright Greek sun had just sunk into the ocean.

It had been a beautiful sunset. The way the light jumped upon the waves, enflaming the waters of Vathy Bay, was spectacular.

‘‘Eye candy,’’ Stacy thought as she ambled past the little, colourful fishing boats, all lined up, waiting for their masters to arrive before setting off for the night’s late catch.

Stacy realised that this was the first time she had truly been alone since her divorce was finalized last week, back home in L.A. Her socialite friends had persuaded her to get away from it all and the very next day they were on their way to the Greek island of Rhodes.

It was so quiet and peaceful by the rock where she had sat and stared at the full moon. She gazed upon the shadowy, still ships sleeping on the dark horizon, before taking off her red Manolo Blahnik heels and carefully climbing down to lie on the golden sandy beach, isolated by the rocks from the rest of the world. All the aloneness felt a tad weird after being surrounded by crowds of every age and colour imaginable, just a few days ago at Faliraki, Rhode’s main club scene. After Rhodes, the gang headed to the island of Ko where they continued to party hard. She smiled as she remembered them all lined up on the bar counter at Jackson’s beach bar dancing the night away. Now, she was enjoying the serenity offered by the island of Samos. Jennifer, Ginger and the rest of the girls had done a terrific job taking her around the Greek islands -island hopping as Ginger liked to call it- to help her forget him. Him. She wondered what The Godwas up to at the moment. That’s what everyone called him at the company.

‘‘Hmm... to everyone but me,’’ she thought. Deep down, certain feelings lingered in her, but she could no longer bear the pain of staying with him.

‘‘Cheating bastard,’’ she said to herself and closed her eyes.

‘‘Beautiful night.’’ A voice from behind her interrupted her reverie.

Startled, she let out a brief scream as she leaped to her feet and turned towards the direction of the voice.

‘‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,’’ the handsome, black haired man rushed to say,  the moonlight revealing his shiny green eyes as it danced across his face.

‘‘I don’t scare that easily,’’ she replied, trying to catch her breath. ‘‘You surprised me, that’s all. How long have you been there?’’

‘‘Oh, I’m not a stalker,’’ he joked, mocking her with his smooth, relaxing voice. ‘‘I come here to write.’’ His whole face lit up as he produced a silver Parker pen and a thin red notebook out of his backpack as evidence.

‘‘So you live here?’’ Stacy asked.

‘‘No, only been here a couple weeks. I’m on holiday too. Alone,’’ he pointed out. ‘‘Tom Smith,’’ he said, stretching out his right hand.

‘‘Stacy Anderson,’’ she replied. Her hand fit perfectly into his. It felt strange using her maiden name again. Even stranger was the fact that she felt comfortable with this man she’d just met. Ginger would have been so proud to see them sitting side by side in the sand, making small talk as the Aegean Sea caressed their feet.

‘‘So what are you writing about?’’ Stacy inquired.

‘‘It’s a thriller!’’ he announced, deepening his voice and taking on a scary tone. They both laughed. It had been a while since she‘d laughed and meant it.

‘‘I love thrillers,’’ she said excitedly. It was the last thing Stacy Anderson ever said. As the knife hit her chest and penetrated her heart, Stacy tried to catch a breath and scream out, but her mouth was quickly covered by Tom’s left hand. His right hand lifted the knife again and the blade flashed silver in the moonlight. Blood was dripping from its sharp end as he stabbed her again with more passion this time and with obvious excitement in his devilish green eyes. All seven hits were to her heart. Tom leaned in close and slowly unbuttoned her bloody shirt, taking his time before turning his attention to the button of her jeans.

He gazed upon her beautiful naked body, gently touching her fake breasts. They were perfect, probably the best money could buy.

Then, with savage fury, he plunged the knife between Stacy’s legs, burying it deep inside her vagina before slicing viciously upward. He stopped when he was pleased that the pomegranate in his bag would fit. He stood up admiring his work. He then walked into the water and with a smile of satisfaction upon his face, Tom swam away.

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