Murder At The HighlandsA Story by Sami KhalilA very short story.Based on a true event but with some fiction... I tried to combine all the elements of a short story in a compact way where the term less is more suffices in this case for the readerMurder At The Highlands/By Sami Khalil The Revenge of the malefic husband… Sunshine filtered through the interstice of windowsills, as the stench wafted through the mansion, compelling prohibition and plausibility. In death’s grip, the stolen shadows slipped past frosted silences of breaths, under the shattering of echoes. In the quiet of condemnation, footsteps faded in rapt thought, as the air was pushed in anger, traced by malignant effects. Victoria Higgins, the Lady Of The Highlands, had her conversation with death, fated in a unified theory of circumstance. Several minds stumbled when entering, especially Houston Pierce, the “Last Southern Gentleman”, when the myth of hard choices represented to him and others the mixture of hollow foreclosures. As he walked in, after forcing through, along with his wife, they heard the distant sirens rushing towards them in the distance, chiming the clueless to the obvious. Here was Miss Higgins lying, in a pool of blood, bludgeoned to eternal death. Grace fell that morning, as horror had spread in its pervasive effects of evil doctrines, while the moon slipped away behind dark clouds of altered state. Words drifted in sorrow, bodiless and ethereal. His wife had her unflappable hunches after several newspapers crowded her neighbor’s immaculate lawn for days on end and due to her women’s affiliation of the six senses. For her, being tearful, after the fact, were not hidden from the thief of happiness, as she, the victim, marked the shift changes in wounds that weaved the surreal run of thoughts, ending in sad assonance and mayhem. Now, with the law enforcements’ arrival, they tumbled over the offbeat ways to find validity of conclusive results. Many sought answers as to whether a crime of passion, hate or greed. And, as those answers persisted not, but were chased by cull leads of intrusions. Such was the murder at The Highlands! A mystery to unfold after the preservation of fingerprints and samples, establishing a restricted perimeter between the physical and testimonial evidences. This time there would be no witnesses in the art of forensics, but doubts which were tossed around in solipsistic dribbles with some facts. Details started coming out, evocative of the forged backstory where crimes speak of themselves. Victoria Higgins was a wealthy widow, an antithesis of sinister degradation. She had a shapely figure, wasp waisted and a velvety complexion. A dainty nose with halo-white teeth and sunshine, golden hair. What people adored about her was her bouncy personality and vibrant clothes. A sugary voice adored with Southern slang, gave closeness to scrolled ears. She appeared a cardboard cutout of Hollywood legends, in living, breathing characters. Most folks form their first impressions through visual clues, but apart from that, she was more complex in nature. Come to find out, after the police discovered her biography, confessing within to pushing her husband off the long and winding stairs to his death, that the marriage was sour and headed South to divorce. But her husband discursively transfigured into a Poltergeist, exercising the power of the abnormal, channeling horrid expectations. Now, he can operate freely to haunt her, redefining her acknowledgment between the pragmatic and spiritual. To find his solace, he caused her to tumble down the stairs to her final death, stabbing her in validation of high revenge. No flippant naysayer dared to ignore…
© 2017 Sami KhalilReviews
|
Stats
1653 Views
27 Reviews Shelved in 4 Libraries
Added on July 22, 2017Last Updated on August 13, 2017 Author
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|