I can feel him.
He's there creeping up on me from behind.
I can feel him. I know his destiny. He doesn't, the poor bugger- but I do.
I pause for a minute before dealing out death and judgement. To think that after all his efforts, it all had to end here, today, now- just as he prepares to take my blood.
Of course I'm justified in protecting myself. My blood is my own and mine to give to who I please.
Reluctantly I raise my weapon and strike. Once- swift and strong. Herculean yes, but when I relish the carcass in my hands there's a bewildering sense of pity.
To think that I lured him to his death is strangely fulfilling. As is the murder I just committed.
The laptop flickers. Death comes to all one day and the laptop is no exception. It is dying- excruciatingly giving up its last breath for me while 'Dexter' plays on its screen.
My eyes flicker between my watch, the laptop, the phone-waiting-for-a-text and the textbook lying in front of me. Without turning my head, just beyond the body I see the half read Wolf Hall. Tilting my head at Hillary Mantel's work I wonder if Anne Boleyn was really the nasty bitch she appears to be so far.
No text yet.
The watch goes tick tick. Time's passing real quick.
Millions of pages left to study. Desire to read it- check. Energy to read- check. Getting down to reading it........awkward pause.
Maud probably wanted the crown for herself, not Henry. Then again, Henry II did have his share of formidable women. Maud as a mother, Eleanor of Aquitaine as his wife. 'How beautiful you make me' Katharine Hepburn's sarcastic, bitter, unforgettable Eleanor of Aquitaine comes to mind. Darned good movie that one.
Luring him to his death was not intentional. It just- happened. Another life lost due to carelessness- it won't really make that much of a difference.
Henry thought that too. But the 'meddlesome priest', albeit dead haunted him no end during the 40 lashes.
Will he- this murder most foul- be the Becket to my Henry? The Banquo to my Macbeth?
When Lady Macbeth asked the spirits to 'unsex me here' what did she really mean? I mean seriously. She just wanted a lay or was she secretly into kink what with all the role playing. Ghosts don't really do it for me but then Monica thought Chandler was turned on by sharks...
It is time.
To dispose of the body.
There will be others. I lie in gleeful wait.
How do I know that? Because the bait's here.
On my bed. Lying in secret, patient wait for prey it knows will come.
And that, will be the end.
So I open my hands and the carcass falls to the floor- bloodless, and so.....dead.
PS: Eating cream biscuits in bed and whiling away time to study that will never return is the freaking BEST way to kill ants. Plus that scene in the link is really genius.