Night with a stranger

339 7 3
                                    

It was a normal night for everybody living in BHT area, except for the residents of apartment 206 of the Sunshine Building.

Cindy Larkey had descended the bus at its last station and was walking home. Although it wasn't anything new for her, yet her heart was beating fast. The busy city wasn't as busy on this street and at this time of the night. It being the coldest month of the year didn't help either. In the scarce light of the flickering street lamps, her hazel eyes could not see anybody.

A cold breeze waved her long raven like hair. She shivered and fastened her pace. She could now see her destination, the Sunshine Building. Her heartbeat slowed down to normal, but only for a second. It fastened again as she heard footsteps behind her. She realized that someone was following her.

Both of her gloved hands were inside the pockets of her overcoat. The weather wasn't the only reason for it. As she turned, her right hand clutched on to the taser tightly in her pocket. She couldn't afford a license or a gun, but she at least got something to protect her. She smiled mentally at this thought. A serial killer was loose in the city and all she had was a taser. In all probability the serial killer was standing on the very street where Cindy was standing.

The man following Cindy wasn't anyone she knew, but she remembered seeing him earlier on the bus. He was about 5'6" and was wearing a woolen hat and a worn out black coat as a protection against the weather. When he saw that Cindy had spotted him, his right hand went inside his coat pocket. Cindy knew what was inside the pocket. In a swift movement, her hand was out of her pocket and the man was lying on the ground. On his side, was lying a wallet which had fallen from his right hand. It was Cindy's wallet.

Cindy ran towards the man when she realized what had happened. "I'm sorry," she apologized, "I saw you following me and I got scared. I'm so sorry." Cindy had the most innocent and apologetic look on her face. "Here, let me help you," Cindy said as she helped him stand up.

"Your...wallet...I...was..." the man said slowly.

"I know. I know. You were being so nice and I... am so stupid. My home is just here, in this building," Cindy pointed at the residential building in front of them, "Let me get you a cup of coffee."

The man nodded. He was walking with her support. It took them a couple minutes to get to the building and a couple more in the elevator. In the meantime, Cindy came to know that his name was Jack and he was a school teacher. Jack got her name and a butt-load of apologies. She also told him that she waits at the diner at 24th street.

"This is my apartment." Cindy said as she opened the lock of the door to apartment 206, "It's not much but at least I have a home." Cindy switched on the light.

"So you live alone?" Jack asked entering the apartment. There was a wooden table and a couch in the hall. He could see the open kitchen and a room with closed door. He sat on the couch.

"No. I have a room-mate. She's probably asleep. It might be a good idea to speak quietly." Cindy said joining Jack on the couch.

"What does she do?"

"Ashley? She is an intern at the law firm 'Jays and Kays'. They don't pay much but at least have decent hours."

"At least she doesn't have to taser anyone." Jack chuckled.

"I'm sorry for that. But with increasing crime rates and killers everywhere, you can never be too sure. Let me get you the cup of coffee that I promised." Cindy said standing up.

"Well you are right." Jack said, "The apartment killer is surely making everyone shudder. To kill in an entirely unknown apartment, using their kitchen knives; it says balls."

"Or just lack of money to buy own weapons." Cindy joked taking out a milk container from the refrigerator.

"How do you find it in yourself to make jokes about people getting killed?"

"It is definitely better than praising the killer." Cindy said curtly.

"Well, I just meant that I had never heard anything like this before." Jack defended.

"Hmmm. Why do you think serial killers kill?" Cindy asked after a while, putting two cups of coffee on the table, "here's my world famous coffee. You'll never drink a coffee better than this."

"There is something inside their mind that makes them different from the rest of us," Jack said in a serious tone, "but I am no expert on anything, so who am I to say?" He shrugged and took a sip from the cup, "it is good."

"I think they do it for the thrill. Imagine getting out of bed one day and finding a corpse of a complete stranger on your couch." Cindy said dreamily.

"So you mean to say that he kills only for the sake of surprising people. That's insane." Jack said narrowing his black eyes and emphasizing on the word 'insane'.

"Who am I to say?" Cindy smiled.

"Well, I should go now." Jack stood up. "Thanks for the coffee. It was really good."

"Told ya. It's my special recipe," Cindy said smugly.

"Can I get this recipe?"

"I grind my own beans and mix a little bit of my special ingredient. It's no biggie."

"And what is your special ingredient?" Jack asked curiously.

"Poison." Cindy smiled wickedly.

"What?" Jack asked as his legs gave up and he crashed on the ground.

"I don't always use knives," Cindy whispered.

Night with a strangerWhere stories live. Discover now