Killer in the blink of a lone street light

Killer in the blink of a lone street light

            It was dark. I see no lights around. The trees stopped moving. The traffic from long distances was echoing in my ears. I was stunned by the scene happening in front of my eyes under a lone street light. He was long, worn dark heavy clothes, and wearing a cap. He had an ice cream scooper in his hand and an immovable person bleeding badly, looks familiar, with his head tilted to gravity. He was half-dead, not even have sufficient energy to raise his voice out of pain. I was standing frozen in the dark shades of a peepal tree. Any muscle moved will hint the monster. So, I stayed still.

            The monster gripped the scooper tight and started pulling out the eyes of the victim. I was shocked. He screamed one last time and didn’t make a squeak for the other eye. I felt nauseous. I couldn’t resist vomiting. It caused unbearable uneasiness in my stomach and my eyes started dimming. My brain took the signals it seems. I woke up startled. It was already blue and bright. The clock was ticking seven. I was worried to see a similar dream again, with a killer scooping out eyeballs. I turned on the TV to check the news. They found a body with the same pattern of killing. Eyeballs sucked out brutally. The last time I saw the body in the spot, the head had one eyebrow hanging from the skull. I rode to the location to check the body. It was the same guy I saw last night in my dream. And the spot was the same.

            I came back home, vomited twice, and lied on the bed thinking about the weird coincidence. The scary part is, I know both the dead. A knock on my door brought me back to this world. It was the police. I opened the door and they stepped in.

            “What can I do for you?” I asked.

            “We are enquiring the neighborhood about the murdered person,” the constable spoke.

            “I heard about him.”

            “Do you know him?”

            “I do, but we don’t hang out.”

            “Okay!” They were about to turn away. I don’t know what went into me, I said, “Scooping eyes out is brutal.”

            “What?” The constable looked at me suspiciously. I cursed myself for the lack of control over my tongue.

            “I saw the body in the morning,” I covered it up.

            He still looked suspiciously at me while walking off my compound. I turned my head away and closed the door.

            The sun went down with confusion in my head. It has become darker again. I was tired but was scared to sleep. I watched TV. It didn’t help. I spent time on the phone. It didn’t help. The screens are making me doze off in blinks. I tried to talk to friends. It didn’t help. My eyelids are gaining weight minute by minute. I started strolling in my compound blinking my eyes to keep them open.

            Darkness spread around me, a long compound wall has sprung from the earth in a second. I saw no lights except a streetlight and under it the same killer with another dying person in hand. I recognized the victim. He’s the constable who visited my house this morning. The killer showed no mercy on him. He scooped out his two eyeballs with the scooper. I resisted nausea this time and I woke up on the ground in my compound. The dirt has made my clothes and hands dirty. I went inside and turned on the tap in the bathroom. I was bleeding from my hands. I saw no cuts on my skin. Not anywhere on the body either. It still bled into the sink.

            Confused and scared, I have decided to go to the police to tell them what’s happening. I know they would suspect me for a killer, but it’s the right thing to do. I will stay there in their remand and prove them wrong if they suspect me. That was my plan.

            Inspector was busy at the murder spot. He was frustrated with the serial killer. He was yelling at people. I thought it wasn’t the right time. I changed my mind and headed back home. On the way, a neighbor whom I know well for years asked me about the scar on my forehead. I touched it and surprised. I didn’t know when did I have it. The world started fading dark.  I was scared rushed back home in a hurry. I closed all the doors and locked them. I sat on the sofa gazing at the new memories that felt like I got reminded of them.

            I was digging a dagger into the first victim’s heart. He screamed his life out of his lungs and died. I stabbed into the second victim’s armpits. It went into his left lung and broke two of his ribs. I pulled the eyeballs of the constable out with the scooper. I even put my thumb into his empty space of the skull and forked the gel out.

            The memories were terrifying. They make me the killer. Where are these memories coming from? My head started reeling. I was fading out. I blinked.

            It was to the left shoulder of the killer I was standing this time, in a bright lone street light. He was stabbing through his collar bone. It was my neighbor who asked me about the scar. I didn’t move. I didn’t run away. I was stunned by the presence of the street light on our heads. I could see the killer’s face from the left. I saw the scar on his forehead. He looked familiar. For the first time, with the confidence of he won’t hurt me, I reached out my hand onto his shoulder. He turned towards me. I know him for years. And his face. No one could ever know it clear. I see it every day, in the mirror.