Scarred Knight

Ghost

Ghost

I materialized from the shadows and the man just few steps from his room stopped with a jerk when he saw me. “Wh— who are you?” He quickly gathered himself and snapped, puffing up his chest as he started questioning, “How did you get in here? Security—” He started to scream only to bend over and cough as I kicked him in the chest.

He staggered back, gasping for breath as pain contorted his face, making him uglier and turning his face green. The pain won’t be going anywhere as I knew that two of his ribs were cracked from the kick I just delivered. I hauled him forward as I grabbed his shirt and then threw him inside the bedroom.

“Charlie…” He choked out when he saw his nakéd wife hanging from the fan, her toes barely able to support her weight on the chair I had put under her on the bed. I wasn’t done tortûring her yet. “What are you doing to my wife?” He wheezed out, his eyes roaming around in panic.

I casually walked to the love seat situated opposite the bed and sat down. Then, dragging my eyes to the nakéd female crying while she balanced herself on her toes, I said, “You have a choice, Ramsay. The choice you didn't give all the girls you bought and tortûred.”

The woman whimpered and Ramsay tried to look unafraid even as he grunted in pain with his hand holding his side as he said, “That’s none of your business and who are you to barge in here. Do you know who I am—”

I tsked and the next second one of my small and sharp blade was embedded in his shoulder. “It doesn’t matter who you are. All you need to know is who I am. And I’m your Karma.” I knew he heard me through his wheezing cries as his fingers wrapped around the handle of the knife. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

But the arsehôle didn't listen as he pulled the small blade from his shoulder. Big mistake that, and soon he realised it too as blood started to flow from the small but deep cut. I said, “Let’s not waste my time, do as I say and I might let you live.” I was lying. But the psycho in me didn’t care because it only makes that part of me rejoice when I take the hope away that I was the one to give in the first place. “Whip your wife with your belt until I tell you to stop or,” I pulled out a black pistôl from my waistband and put it on my thigh. “I’ll put a bullet between her eyes.”

“Y-you can’t… I—can’t…” He blabbered, his whole body shaking.

My fingers closed around the pistôl resting on my thigh but before I could pick it up, the woman, Charlie, screamed, “Do it! Do it or he will kill me!!”

It took only three seconds for Ramsay to free his belt and on the fourth he was whipping his wife. As the room filled with painful whimpers and screams, I zoned out and wondered about my new query or she could be my latest victim. I had watched her from afar so much that now I even dreamed about her. And I won’t complain, it was a much better sight than the ones I usually experience. Those grey eyes of her, I had seen them expressing every emotion. Except one. Lust. Sexuàl hunger. The need to let go. She was too self conscious for my liking. It makes me wonder if her eyes will turn dark or luminous, or if the hint of blue would just disappear or will be more pronounced when she’ll embrace it whatever I wanted to do to her.

The high pitched scream had me looking up and I saw the woman clawing at her neck as the chair toppled over and Ramsay frantically tried to support his wife while he pulled the chair upright. I sighed and stood up. “Now.” They both looked at me. Fear making them blanch at my voice. “So I’ll make this quick.” Because I have somewhere to be. Someone else to haunt. To play with. “Tell me, who killed Jasmine.”

The woman continued crying but the man paled even more as he took a step back. He must’ve seen the gates of hell opening as his eyes widened and he stammered out, “You said you’ll let me live.”

I shook my head. “I said, I might let you live. And honestly, I lied, so…” My voice deepened as I repeated, “Who killed Jasmine?”

Jasmine was a twenty year old girl with a bright future. An only daughter of the owners of one of the elite high schools in London. All Royal Saints. These fuckers, in line for the dukedom, had her kidnapped just like all the girls before her. Ràped her. Beat her. And did things that were unimaginable even to me. And believe me when I say I am one deviant and cruel, cold hearted fucker. But the atrocities this couple has been committing was beyond reproachable.

And today they were going to get what they deserve. The karma is here, in the form…. Yours truly. It was a favor in exchange of a favor. “Would you like to answer, Charlie?” I asked as I drew closer to the bed, ignoring the man who was very carefully sliding closer to the vase on the nightstand. I wanted to roll my eyes, but instead focused on the woman, precariously close to her death.

“Charlie?” I prompted. “Who killed Jasmine?”

“H-he, he did.” She hiccupped. “He drowned her.” Her fearful eyes were alight with hope telling me that she believed if she told me the truth she will get out of here alive. So much for husband and wife.

“Did he?” I questioned and then turned around just in time to block the vase that Ramsay hurled at me. “You shouldn’t have done that.” I said as I took three quick strides to the man now making a run for it and screaming for help. I grabbed a fistful of his hair and threw him against the wall. “Your security is dead, they won’t help.” I said, crouching down over him, my knee on his chest as I leaned down on him closer to his face.

His face turned a beautiful shade of red and I smiled. I knew in that moment he could see me more clearly, under the shade of my hoodie. I must be looking a little unhinged with dark unruly locks, my eyes almost turning black against my white complexion. His hands pushed at my knee as he wheezed for breath. I pushed harder, feeling his ribs giving way and his muffled cry as I dug my fingers in his knîfe wound.

“How does it feel to not be able to breathe?” I asked but of course I didn’t get any answer. “I’d take my time but I have some place to be, so…” I pulled out another of my beloved blade and put it down on his jugular.

“P-please… n-no.”

I smiled because when these monsters beg for their life, I get this perverse satisfaction and all I woant to do is to push harder until they are bleeding at my feet. Ignoring his pleas I dragged the blade from one side of his throat to the other, not deep enough… but enough that blood ran down the side of his neck, pooling under his head. His hands went to his neck, trying to stop the flow of the blôod as he cried and shook his head only to stop and freeze when pain rocketed through him. To stop the blôod was impossible as I trailed my knife down, until the tip of the knife was pressing on his chest where his heart beat a frantic rhythm. He sucked in a breath and coughed out blood.

I was getting tired of playing with him, and that was a first, may be it had to do something with the little liar I was ghosting. So, I pierced the skin and let the knife in, pushing past muscles after muscles until the blade was inside to the hilt. I didn't wait to watch when the light would leave his eyes so I can revel in the feeling of euphoria for erasing another evil monster from this world, I just wanted to get out of here and watch her.

I stood up and turned to face the woman and asked, “Do you want to live?” She nodded, crying and sobbing, snot and tears mixing. “Then, I’ll leave you.”

And I walked out of the door. There was no one alive on the property who’d help her. It was entirely on her luck if she gets to live somehow. I doubted it though.

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A. Gupta

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