The Night Is Here

Hunt

Raindrops danced on my windowsill throughout the night. Tip top tip top tip top! I listened to them closely, trying to decode what music they played. Some kind of sad monochrome. Melancholy laughed back at me. But the raindrops didn’t stop dancing. They danced and danced and danced. All night. Fast at times, running out of breath. Slow at times, keeping pace with my old heartbeats. I guess I liked their sound. They were in sync with my mind. And they smelled of my thoughts. The type of smell you get when you are trying to bury something evil, like the Satanic Bible under a pile of good holy books. Just like the dead body of a killer sprinkled with holy water. 

Ironically the date was 14th February. Sounds familiar? The day of love? Ah! How can you forget why is that celebrated as the day of love? Saint Valentine’s death anniversary. The great martyr of love. So do you see? There is no love that doesn’t lead to the outrage of evil. Or death. And I’m a savior of life. Even if that means killing all who live in the name of love. 

Romance. The word itself drives me insane. Uprooting the tiniest veins in my body with rage. And I don’t know what I might do to demolish it from the world we live in.

I have a lot to do today. The clock had already ticked 12 a.m. 14th February has knocked on my door. I have to greet it with the blood of all who spoke of love. True love. Not the ones we see in modern times. For they are not in love, they will fail when the storm comes and will tear their love into pieces with words of angst. And I am happy for them, for they will live. 

With the first ray of sun in the morning I’ll will step out to hunt. My hunt for the kind of love that reminds me of a time where no evil existed. And I do not like that. The world needs evil. The world needs Satan and his children. The world needs balance. And the world needs people like me. Devils hidden behind angelic smiles and black cloaks shimmering with ash that fools for glitter. 

I heard a dog howl somewhere. Its call. I need to go. It shouldn’t matter that I’m old and tired. I need to go. I have to go. I have never missed a single Valentine’s day in 50 years. I will not miss one today. I was 23 when I started. With these bloody hands after killing the love of my life. 

She was the type of girl you read about in old classics. The type they make movies on. Her smile could light up an entire village on a Lunar Eclipse. She had the voice of a Nightingale singing in the monsoon rains when she spoke. I could listen to that voice all day long and never get tired. And her eyes, her eyes were the best. Honey brown. Like the sunset on the western horizon. She was a walking piece of art. And I, I wanted to be the museum where she ruled. 

14th February’1967, It was around 5pm in the evening when I rang her doorbell with a bouquet of blue orchids after preparing my proposal of love for the entire day. No one opened the door even after the 3rd bell. By that time my hands started sweating, knees shaking. If I say I was anxious, it would be an understatement. I thought she might not be home and turned to the road with a morose face when I heard someone giggle from inside the house. It was her. I can never mistake that voice. Not even today. 
I knew there was another way to get into the house. The backdoor. Given that I was a gentleman up until that day, it was against my morals to get in through that door but I was furious. Why wouldn’t she open the door when she heard the doorbells. What was she upto? I wanted answers. Afterall she was supposed to be mine from today. She cannot get away with such kind of behaviours as my lover. 

I went around the old house to check the backdoor. As expected, it wasn’t locked from inside. Nervously I held onto the handle for 2 minutes before I stepped inside. The giggling grew louder. I could even hear mushy whispering by now. It was clear that she wasn’t alone in the house. There was someone else too. And that person wasn’t any of her girlfriends. But who? Who would dare to be alone in an empty house with the lady I love? On the day of love? And why was she laughing so much? I thought to myself as I tiptoed into the house swiftly. I stopped right outside the door of the room from where all the noises came. Yes, by that time their voices were no less than annoying noises to me. I was furious, hurt and envious beyond imagination of any normal human by then. I was scared of my own self for what I might do if I do not like what was waiting for me. 

Keeping all my decency and moral values aside I did not knock on the door this time. I slowly opened it fearing the worst my eyes could take. And, it happened. The thing I feared. There lay naked the woman I loved in the arms of another man I did not know. And I didn’t want to. I still have their shocked faces with a hundred emotions forever engraved in my memory. I will not forget those faces. Not in this life and in another one. 

I still wish she hadn’t kept the half eaten plate of strawberries along with her kitchen knife on the table beside the door. Maybe then I wouldn’t have killed 98 people in this life alone. Maybe. I am not really sure for I do not know if the bullets in my old revolver would have caused them a death with less pain. But I preferred the knife that evening, it kind of matched their shrieks with the ache in my heart. And I am not guilty of any blood that stains my hands. I am not a murderer. I am a savior. I am saving the world. Because love leads to death my dear. And I want you to live. 

I was brought back to the reality with the same dog howling somewhere. It is calling me and I must go. Today is important. I promised my lord to make a century before I return back to him. I must kill two souls devoured in each other’s love today. Satan is proud of his son, I have to keep his promise before leaving this planet. I have to step out before 5 pm today for my last hunt. 

I will not ask you to be afraid my love, but if your heart beats are dancing to the rhythm of these raindrops tonight for the joy of finding true love in a mate, I will just ask you to do one thing. 

Keep your backdoor locked before you get undressed.