Bed Of Razors

He loved being typecast as the charming, romantic handsome man; not cute guy; with the magical voice because he beleived it fitted his description perfectly. And he knew as always, that it was his charms htat had paved the way to her heart. He had calmly shifted them from their previous location on the sofa to a more comfortable place - Her Bed

*****

She offered no resistance. This was one of her easier ventures since he believed he was the master of the art of seduction. But she had to give him credit. Any normal woman would have fallen prey to him.

He was now working his hands from her face to her shoulders. She suddenly released from his grasp but masked all signs of discomfort.

"I have a sruprise for you. I'll be back"

This had never occurred previously. She had never been so deeply involved. She had never lost sight of her living mottoi, never had got distracted from the motive of her existence for all these years and the years to come.

She walked past the doorway into her kitchen.

She was 12 years of age, when the plae face resting on huge shoulders with the crystal green eyes smiled. The large hand supported by muscular arms held her narrow figure in place, against her will.

And it happened. She lost her virginity and it was not a romantic night. She cried, fled her city, still crying. Slowly, the tears of disappointment transformed into tears of rage.

She picked up the knife form the kitchen slab.

She had had men at her place on several occasions. But no male life ever departed her four walls. Seduction was the weapon, the knife merely an aid. The weqapon wielding skill she had mastered.

Walking into the room of vengeance on masculinity, she caught a glance of him, and clenched the knife tightly behind her back with both hands.

He was special, she acknowledged it. He was different. And her lapse in concentration conveyed the message to her mind, that she loved him. She loved him, she realized. He was special, he was the man she loved, but a man nevertheless.

Her eyes met with his, her lips expanded into a sly smile, well crafted to hide the thoughts running through her head, making it look like an anxious smile seeking a reaction to the surprise.

His calm blue eyes morphed into those evil green ones. His face broadened and paled. His magical smile lost its charm and she picturised the horrific moment once again............Only now, she was in control.

She took out the knife, flshed the blade in front of his face and bared a smile which had nothing to hide. And now, she raised the knife above her head and shrieked satisfying her sadistic desire.

She could see eminent fear in his eyes due to the imminent danger to his life that he faced. But astonishingly his face was serene. But his lips trembled, as he tried to say something........

*****

"I love you", he muttered inaudibly. But he had no doubt that she had heard them as if the heavens had thundered the words were still ringing in her ear, her head!

But his plan had failed, for the blade swung. The tip pierced the sternum and blood blotted the bed covers. But, the body that lay limp was female, the blood that flowed was female and the sternum that gave way was female.

He heaved a sigh of relief, gasped at the gory sight that lay in front of him and thought to himself.

"Women......torn between conflicting emotions."