Friday, March 1, 2013

From the Mind of a Madman

       It's time for a little experiment. This is the first chapter of a miniseries. It is slightly tweaked, but unedited. It's been awhile since my Knight Chills readers were treated to a miniseries. This is a suspense thriller with a supernatural twist as it evolves from the creative stage. Mind you, I'm flying without a net. No outline exists. The characters will drive the storyline and hopefully, some encouraging words from you, my favorite readers, may keep the action going.  

I hope you enjoy Chapter One From the Mind of a Madman  

From the Mind of a Madman

By Nomar Knight

Chapter 1

As I maneuvered through a crowded street, a sense of impending doom exploded from deep within my gut. The dying sun’s glare added to my ever-increasing headache. A dry mouth reminded me that I had not consumed any liquids in hours. Blaring horns and a baby’s piercing screams forced me to shorten my attempt at exercise and enter a nearby coffee shop.
While making my way toward the counter, images of severed heads filled the display cases.
“What can I get for you, sir?”
I shut my eyes, praying for the pain in my head to vanish, hoping that when I acknowledged my present situation, the macabre display would be gone. As luck would have it, what I had seen as human heads was actually a variety of beautiful cakes.
“Sir, are you alright?”
The soothing, feminine voice did not match its producer. Standing with concerned, pale, blue eyes was a mammoth of a young man. He wore a baseball cap and forced a smile, giving him a classic look of constipation. I tried to speak, but found that words remained trapped in my mind. Not a sound shot forth. Clearing my throat, I uttered, “Black coffee, please.”
He pointed at the baked goods. “Would you like a piece of cake with your coffee?”
I froze when one by one the cakes began to split open only to reveal screaming heads.
“Sir, are you okay?”
I cupped my ears, shook my head and rushed into a booth, muttering, “This can’t be happening.”
The sound of heels clacking on the tiled floor drew my attention to the main entrance. A young, blond female, with eyes of coal, strolled toward the horrid display case.
“Hi, Mack, I’ll take a tea with lemon, please.”
The big guy’s fake smile softened into a genuine greeting.
“Hello, Mary Lou.”
I tried to look away, but something about her curly hair caught my eye. A soft hissing sound made my heart beat faster.
Mary Lou asked, “So how’s your accounting class coming along?”
My eyes remained focused at the back of Mary Lou’s head. The hissing sound grew louder. I could have sworn globs of hair strands threatened to move independently as if taking on the appearance of snakes.
Leaning forward, I rested one elbow on the table, shut my eyes and squeezed the bridge of my nose with two fingers.
Mary Lou whispered, “What’s wrong with him?”
I pretended not to hear them chatter about me. In truth, I was concerned that if my gaze met hers, she’d turn me to stone.
“Excuse me, sir. Here’s your coffee.”
I glanced upward and spotted a thin, delicate hand gripping a steaming cup of black coffee and a cup of tea with the other. I didn’t even bother to hide my astonishment as she flashed pearly whites.
“Say, aren’t you Professor Perez?”
I grabbed the cup, careful not to meet her gaze, and sipped the coffee.
She continued yapping, “You’re the Literature Professor. I’m thinking about changing majors.”
Her loud tone made it impossible to tune her out. I gulped down more of the beverage, savoring its therapeutic aroma.
“I’ve heard your classes are interesting.”
I scanned the table, searching for something that would turn the chatterbox off. Lucky for her, the only thing on my table was a spoon and an empty napkin holder.
“A friend of mine takes your class.”
I met her gaze and couldn’t stop my hands from shaking. Rivulets of coffee spilled over the rim of the cup until some of the drops landed on the rectangular table.
“Are you alright, Professor?”
When I lowered my gaze to the table and back up to her furrowed eyebrows, I envisioned sticking the spoon through her left eye.
At last I spoke, “I’m sorry. This damn migraine makes me irritable.”
Without uttering another word, I slid out of the booth, dropped a five dollar bill near the cup and left amidst a chorus of screams and profanity. It wasn’t until I pulled my apartment keys out of my pocket that I noticed the blood.
I whispered, “Did I really stab that girl’s eye out or did I imagine it?”
My apartment was a stone’s throw away from the coffee shop. I rushed into my modest abode, locked the door behind me and listened, waiting for the sirens of an ambulance or a police car. I must have paused for quite some time because when I had left the coffee shop, I recalled daylight’s stubborn refusal to die. One glance at the open window revealed street lights against a black sky.
I turned the lights on and inspected my hands. Dried blood covered my fingers.
“What have I done?”
I heard the toilet flush. I moved to the closed bathroom door and knocked.
“Darling, can you come out? I think I’ve done something dreadful.”
Silence…a choking silence crept up my throat. I stepped back expecting the door knob to rotate, but nothing happened.
“What’s wrong now?”
Nicole’s soothing voice startled me as it came from behind.
I wanted to hug her, but felt compelled to show restraint. “I hate it when you do that.”
Her lips curled into a sly smile. Piercing chocolate eyes sent shivers down my spine. I worshipped her and she knew it.
“God, I love how shiny your hair is.”
She blushed, glanced down at my hands then shook her head. “Is that blood on your fingers?”
A loud pounding on the door made me jump.
“Professor, may I have a word with you?”
I mumbled, “That nosy landlord is always interrupting us.”
Nicole rolled her eyes.
I opened the door to see Mr. Butterfield sporting a look of concern. “Do you have a visitor, Professor?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s just my fiancé and I here. Why?”
“I came to remind you that the rent is due today. I’m sorry for the intrusion.”
The door remained wide open while I fetched my checkbook from my desk. I noticed the nosy geezer scanning my apartment.
“Are you alright, Professor?”
The constant inquiries to my health started to annoy me.
“I wish people would stop asking me that. I’m fine.”
I handed him the check, unable to hide my rising anger.
He took the payment and a look of concern spread across his face.
“Did you cut yourself, sir?”
I bit my lip and frowned. “Goodnight Mr. Butterfield.”
He turned to leave then paused. “Professor, don’t you remember what happened last week?”
“Please leave Mr. Butterfield.”
He sighed and left with a solemn expression on his face.
I shut the door and spotted Nicole sitting on the sofa.
She said softly. “Let me go.”
“Why would you want to leave my side, darling?”
She placed elbows over her knees until her head rested on her hands.
“Because I don’t belong here.”
“Nonsense! You’re the love of my life.”
Somehow, she was no longer on the sofa. In a split second, her nose almost touched mine. Her eyes swirled in never ending circles, lulling me into a meditative stupor. Sirens hollered as if far off in the distance.
“Wake up, darling.”
Nicole’s voice startled me. A cool breeze slapped my face. When I regained my focus, I realized that I was standing on the ledge of the rooftop. Fire trucks, police vehicles and a crowd gathered below.
A bloodthirsty chorus shouted, “Jump! Jump!”
“Nicole, what’s happening?”
Then I remembered, a week ago my fiancé had jumped off the very ledge I stood on.

...Stay tuned for Chapter Two

©2013 Nomar Knight. All rights reserved.
A Knight Chills Miniseries.

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