A Beautiful DeathA Chapter by ConfidentialChapter IV (A Beautiful Death) Katherine lay face up on an early 20th century style bear fur rug. Blood was slowly pooling around her head, shimmering as it reflected the light from the plumes of fire beginning to engulf the upstairs balcony positioned overhead, separating the Great Room from the front hall Foyer. The enormous flames danced their way across the balcony and through the upstairs hallway. The fire crept in every room to which the door was open as it continued to eat its way through the carpeting, washing through the hallway like a flood. It came to the end of the long hall, swept around the corner and down the spiraling staircase; an ornate tapestry hanging on the wall opposite of the staircase banister caught fire, and sent gleaming showers of sparks cascading downwards. The more of the giant house the relentless waves of fire claimed, the louder and more deafening their roars became. Plumes of black smoke floated up, conglomerating in to one thick blanket as they reached the high ceiling. Katherine stirred as she slowly came back in to consciousness. Behind her, the flames began devouring the long, oriental couch like a ravenous beast. She reached her hand up to the back of her head and grimaced as her fingers met a wide gash and inspired a wave of stinging which sent chills down her back. Her eyes opened, slowly at first, but quickly widening as she realized the situation she was in. She tried to sit up, but an awfully sharp, debilitating pain which exploded in her left arm refused to let her. She looked at her arm; it was quite obviously broken, (there was a lump roughly the size of a postage stamp a few inches to the left of the nook on the inside of her elbow, where the bone was nearly poking through) but she couldn't remember how she had broken it. The cause of the large gash on the back of her head remained unknown, too. She winced as she forced herself up with her right arm. She heard a loud snap, seemingly coming from above, and looked up. As soon as she did so, a huge crystal chandelier came careening downwards, flying through the layer of black smoke like a specter out of the darkness. As Katherine died, and the chandelier shattered into oblivion against her head and on the floor, she fell back and hit the floor again. Even more blood surrounded her head now, blood which sparkled with tiny fragments of glass, positioned around her head like a grisly halo, shining by the light of the fire which had now taken over nearly the whole house. Several hundred yards away from the house, Katherine's husband stood watching his life go up in flames, and knowing very well of his wife's fate; he was, after all, the reason she was still inside. And the reason the house was on fire. No remorse, no regret. One word, and word alone, kept running through his mind as he watched the columns of fire erupting from his house: "Beautiful." Admittedly, he felt rather awkward about the whole situation upon later reflection; he had killed so many people on so many occasions, yet this was the first time he didn't taken his trophy (their eyes). Shame, too; Katherine's eyes were the reason he married her, just like all 95 of his victims eyes were the reason he chose them; he always had a weakness for a pretty pair of eyes, whether they belonged to a man or a woman. And Katherine's eyes were exceptionally beautiful. The crowning jewel in his rather large collection. If only she hadn't discovered his secret, this wouldn't have been a necessary action. The house was an inconvenient loss, yes, but houses could be rebuilt. His trophy collection was missing it's crowning jewel now, though, and he knew it would be a long time before he killed anyone with eyes as gorgeous as hers. But by god, he would do his best to fill that slot. He knew he wouldn't be caught, and considering how impromptu the plan was, that was pretty impressive. He would receive a windfall of cash from insurance companies for the death of his wife, and also the loss of his house. Enough to support himself for quite some time. Furthermore, as Katherine was the only one so far to have put the pieces together, he was the only one alive who knew his secret now that she was dead. A room of the house's second floor exploded; the windows blew out and new columns of fire jetted out, stretching skyward. "Beautiful even in death, my love." he muttered aloud to himself. Another explosion, bigger and louder than the first. "Such a beautiful death, too." One minor slip-up; one tiny mistake after thirty years is all it took for Katherine to work it all out. And if she could work it out on her own, the FBI wouldn't have much of a problem if another such mistake was made. He made a mental note to take extra care when handling his next murder, which he had planned coincidentally for the very next evening. He produced a cell phone from his pocket, dialed 911, and dropped the phone on the ground, leaving the line open. When the 911 emergency response operator got no answer from the caller, they would have the phone traced. Upon arriving at the scene of a huge house fire, a mystery call would go to the bottom of their priorities list. Besides, he couldn't let one of the authorities hear his voice. That, and he needed all the spare time he could get his hands on in upcoming days, every single second counted; he had lots of work to do. © 2010 ConfidentialReviews
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