He crept sneakily into the room, careful not to make any sound. He watched as the lights flickered on, wary of the lady sleeping on the mahogany bed. As he scuttled about the room, he brought in a tray into the room, careful not to drop it. He smiled as he tiptoed past the sleeping beauty. Even as she slept, the lady looked ever so elegant.
He placed the tray on the table by her bed. He could not help himself but reach out and gently touch the lady's chestnut brown hair, soft as silk. He pulled the duvet up; afraid the frail lady would catch a cold. After making the final arrangements, touching up on what he would like to call his master plan, he waltzed out of the room, looking back only to blow the lady one last kiss.
Later, as the bright Sun rose up to greet him, he wondered if the lady had woken up yet. Being an early eagle, she bet she would have. Did she like it? Would she scream and hop around with joy? He did not know. He hoped so. The lady was known for her terrible moods in the mornings, adding to the unpredictability of her personality. That was what he loved about her though. He stared into the orange sky, pondering whether this would be the last time he admire the sky alone. He chided himself, for acting like a teenage girl.
I woke up, a terrible hangover in my head. I glanced around the bedroom floor. This would be the last time I sleep here, I guess. The once-littered floor, with all kinds of beer, vodka and wine bottles disappeared, becoming cleaner than it had ever been. Never had my apartment been so clean! Had the cleaning fairy popped in? Of course not, I thought to myself, trying to remember how wasted I got at last night's party. I remembered that the next day was my wedding, so my girlfriends and I squandered my ever-lasting inheritance from the Daddy I never met, buying any pair of high heels that attracted me and spending the rest on my high need of alcohol.
I remember shouting into my phone, "Ten bottles of Jacks, three bottles of vodka, five bottles of red and white wine each and seven bottles of brilliant Scotch." My, my. It had been quite a while since my satisfaction for alcohol had been fulfilled. How long was it since I last drank so merrily, till I experienced the lingering bitterness of beer in my mouth?
I shook my head to clear it, and then my nose finally picked up on it. The sweet smell of freshly cooked scrambled eggs, pancakes stacked to resemble the Marina Bay Sands and bacon. Oh, the best bacon I've ever tasted. Countless bacon littered the plate, just the way I loved it. Digging in, I mercilessly attacked paradise breakfast, shoving and savoring each delicious mouthful. My dear Riley, how thoughtful of him.
After filling my stomach, I drained the hazelnut coffee as I wanted for the phone to get through. He did not pick up, that Riley. Nevertheless, I slid back under the covers, and into the safety of my soul mate. How similar, my soul mate was to Riley, warmly embracing me in his strong arms. Soon, I fell into the dreamy coma and hoped for the sweetest dream to meet me.
Spending the whole day in bed, I got up only the next morning. This was it, the final day of my freedom, gone like the wind, along with the wines down the drain. Would I regret it, the binds of marriage? Only the Lord knows. I slipped a glanced at the grandfather clock ticking in my room. 6 a.m., it said. Five hours to dawdle, one hour to prepare and half an hour to get to the place. I grabbed the vintage wine I saved up for the special occasion, sipping it and switching the television on.
“Five dead bodies found dead in the canal near Jurong West, by eyewitness, John Tan.” The Barbie doll behind the screen chattered on, but the five dead bodies captured my attention. Ten years, since a good number of people had been murdered like that since my parents’ murder. The peaceful, bustling serenity the Singapore had seen flew out the window just like that.
I laughed as the usual statement flashed above the news anchor’s head. ‘Should the public have any information about the murders, please contact the police immediately at this hotline.’ They did not even bother with my parents, declaring it a suicide. Well, now we have got a murderer on the loose, what more on my wedding day. I took a long drag of the sweet wine. It would always calm me down no matter what.
That moment, my phone buzzed. I picked it up, squinting to make out the small font of the text. “Sherlock, we need you on the case.” Damn the police. I scrolled down and scanned through the messages. Many flooded my inbox, saying, “Great party last night” or “Congrats”. Finding the correct message, it read, “Coming over to the penthouse, hope you liked the breakfast. Love Riley.”
Love Riley, it brought up many memories of the past. We met back in Secondary School, where I was still foolish, and he was dense. Smart but dense. Many girls liked him, but he never noticed. He floats around, goofy smiles plastered on his face. The boys didn’t take to him that much. In fact, he was subjected to bullying by them, yet that blockhead did not sense anything. They teased and made fun of him, but he never lets it get to him.
I always stayed away from most people, never ever trusting them so easily. But he hopped through my barrier, breaking my guard down, convincing me that people weren’t always that bad. We got along well, and somewhere along the way, he blurted out his feelings for me. I did not know if he told the truth then, being so unromantic and all, but I liked seeing his beet red face, hiding his embarrassment. We were happy. I still remember when we leaned against each other, reading the stars.
“I love you” He said. I ignored that, my face flushing just a tinge. “Don’t you dare change. Idiots make the world a better place to live in after all. I will come after you. I will kill you.” I said, but he’d already fallen asleep. Things progressed smoothly as time passed by, with our love growing sweeter as days went by.
The doorbell rang, and back to reality, I was dragged. It chanted its usual chorus around the house. I pressed the intercom, unlocking the door and letting him in. We hugged and kissed; the soon-to-be married couple.
“I did what you asked.” He whispered into my ear as we cuddled up to watch the movie screening on the television. I simply nodded my head, carefree and happy I was. A surgeon he was, so skillful and precise. “I killed and dumped five bodies into the canal.”
Now that I expected. I held my hand out. His eyes lit up when he saw the ring I wore and he placed the murder weapon in my palm. A scalpel, the perfect torture equipment.
I stood up, ready to reward my masochistic dog. His hands clasped in mine, I led him into my guest room. He lay on the bed, as I glided the scalpel along his shirt, tearing to reveal strong taut muscles. I dragged the thin blade along his bicep; a thin trail of blood followed the knife. He winced in pain.
Slashing the knife across his body, I outlined and drew passionate red roses on his body. I was careful not to cut into any major veins or arteries. The beauty of art, such a meticulous and miraculous thing. I always signed off my works. I bend down, closer to his face, feeling the hot breath he huffed. On his face, decorated a red rose on his left cheek, I saw the crave for death in his eyes.
I reached for the liquid in the drawer by the bed. Feeding him through mouth to mouth, he swallowed the potion. I slit his wrist, before leaving him to die. I looked for my phone. Looking for “Chief Police” under my list of contacts, I texted him. Mark off the target as Murdered.
The deep passionate red wedding gown was placed in front of me, and I stared into the mirror. “What a beauty! Forever, I will stay like this.” I peered at the body on the bed, still and lifeless. It began to pale, as blood slowed down. His heart should have stopped and restarted, signaling his rebirth. His fingers twitched. He marked the 225th Experiment. Undercover, Project Eternal Love.