As you are aware, I was royally recognised and so was Grey and so were all my other lovers (well, why else would they be called my lovers? ;) )

There was Neil Patrick, who was the Duke of Chester; then there was Lord James (need I say more?....ah! Lord James!); there was Louise who was a well reputed doctor among us royals, and hence, had an agreeable position in the society, and then there was Grey...the best-I-ever-had Grey...the gay Grey! -.-
He was the Count of Northampton.

So, my point is, all my lovers were reasonably well established in the royal circle and all of them had established equivalent wedlock terms. In other words, they came to marry the cool and awesome royals. Me :D

Well, except for Grey. And I had never heard of his marriage. Not that that would have stopped me from playing with the lusts of the flesh, no. I would still have seduced him because he was clearly working under my spell. They all do, really ;)
But there had to be a reason I had never heard of the wedding of the great Count of Northampton. Our society, and indeed any society, made a huge deal out of weddings. So whenever I got married, people knew. That was how my image of a polyandrist became well known.
Not just me, whenever anyone got married, the whole society knew. But this was one marriage that no one ever spoke about.
There was a reason.
I had to find it out for myself. I just had to. But I didn't know who I could approach. I would have asked Alcoholic Anita, but she was proving as useful as a dung beetle, so she had to die. Useless people annoy the hell out of me. And someone like Anita...well, you get my drift.

There had to be someone...Lancaster was full of creeps like that!
Someone would know. Someone who knew about the history of the families of George and Hemendip.
Then it hit me.
Andre Murdoch. Patricia Pollock.
They would answer my queries.

Andre Murdoch was this little creep I knew from my childhood days. He was in my school. Ours was a private school where we had people from the royal families and people from the rich households who had attained their wealth mainly from investments in the secondary sector (that was the time of the Industrial Revolution). The royal people hated the rich ones. The royalty was totally at the risk of falling because people had suddenly developed feelings for democracy and that sort of shit. I'm not saying democracy is bad. But if it puts people like me out of business, then to hell with better governments! :p :/
So, basically my family hated the guts of the Murdoch family. The Murdoch family was of mixed Spanish and French heritage (so there's an added reason to hate them!) AND they were doing good in the cotton business. And since my family hated their family, I hated Andre. But there was more to why I hated Andre and his little weird girlfriend, Patricia Pollock (don't ask me why they had such strange names).
More on that later!
But I did know that Andre Murdoch and Patricia Pollock got married soon after school, started some sort of business in Swansea, suffered terrible losses due to lack of business (although, I don't know how that could happen, considering their strategic location that incorporated sea routes for excellent export purposes. Just saying :p)
I had to find Andre Murdoch and Patricia Pollock.
I had to find Shontelle Jay.
I had to LEAVE LANCASTER! ASAP! The city freaked me out like crazy!

But there was another problem. I didn't know where to find them.
And as an added charmer, I had nowhere to stay.
Again. -.-

So I walked on....and on....and on....till I was well out of the city and approaching the outskirts.
THAT had to be exciting :/

I finally found a hilltop tavern.
The tavern existed because there was a winery a little further off.
Sterna Winery, it was called.
A bloke from Paphos owned it.
Eh, not that I cared about who owned it.
All I cared about was the fact that I found a tavern. I could find a bed. I could sleep.
Granted that my sleep would be guided by strange dreams, this was more than welcome.
Plus, I could finally get a hot bath. I was a pathetic mess.

So I climbed up the little hill's steps and entered the tavern, only to find no one at the reception.

"Excuse me?" I said, starting to get the feeling that no one would turn up.
But someone did turn up a few seconds later.

"Good Evening, miss", he said with a husky voice. Nay, almost whispered.
One glance at him helped me study his profile.
He was not the tallest figure I had seen, but he wasn't short either. Medium height. He was dressed in a light grey suit, his pocket watch dangling the regular way. Everything was regular, and yet everything was not.
Then I realised.
He was grinning.
Douche.
I didn't know what it was...but there was something in his grin. Like a combination of "innocent" and "pure evil".
For several seconds, he continued to grin, but didn't say a word.

"Good evening", I said. "I am Zxy Hemendip. And I require lodging."
"Aye, aye", he drawled. Several seconds later. And he was so soft-spoken, it was just annoying. I wanted to shout out, "Speak up, doofus!"
Of course, I didn't.
See, 'cause I'm a nice person.
It's true.
I'm polite.
At least in the first meeting.
Because the first impression is the last impression.

"I do have something suitable available", he finally said after the longest pause I had ever seen. Longest ever, following the question as to whether or not he'd give me a room.
He smiled sheepishly. But didn't say a word.
Gawd. Does he ever talk? :/
He handed over a key to me. Said, "I'm afraid...ours is a small establishment. It's just me tonight", he added with a glint in his eyes.
In his red eyes.
Probably sleep deprived, but even so.

"Lead the way, please", I said, not knowing what else to say. What DO you say to a guy who wouldn't say anything?

I followed him upstairs and he led me to the far end of the passage.

"Here it is", he said, smiling again.
The innocent-evil smile.
Gawd.

"Thank you", I said as graciously as I could.

He bowed and was about to leave, when I stopped him: "Excuse me...?" I said, looking at his badge for his name.
Humming Jambiya.
WTF? :O
"Mr. Jambiya", I swallowed. "I was wondering...if you could help me a little."
He smiled.
"Of course, Ms. Hemendip", he said.
"Please come in", I invited him in. Such interrogation cannot take place at the door.
Or so I thought.

"How may I help you?"
"Pray, what does your name mean?" I said with a small smile.
He chuckled.
"I am of mixed ethnicity, Ms. Hemendip", he said. "My father is from Yemen. Mother is from Mexico. They met under peculiar circumstances and brought me to England."
"That IS peculiar, if I do say so myself", I agreed.
He chuckled again. "So, how may I help?"
"I was wondering...if you'd happen to know where Shontelle Jay lives?"
"Do you mean the wife of Grey George?"
"The same, yes."
"Why, yes; I do!"
"Oh, splendid! May I have the address?"
"Yes, of course...but may I ask, if it isn't too personal, what...I mean...do you have some sort of business with her?"
"I do", I nodded. His expression told me that he wanted the details.
Douche.
I didn't say anything. Why would I give away my hatred for Shontelle Jay to a person called Humming Jambiya? :/
"I knew Shontelle Jay....intimately."
"Did you, now?" I was interested. I sat down on the bed and gestured him to do the same.
"Yes...she was my first love. I do not know why I tell you this. I feel that you can be trusted. You have the look of a trustworthy maiden."
Wow.
He was quite the dramatic talker. :P

"Do tell", I pushed him to it. What? I like dirt!

"Yes...she was there for me at a time when no one was. And then she left and married that arrogant doofus. Grey George. I will never forgive him for that", he added.
Oh, no one will, I thought to myself. But he is dead already, so who cares?

"Grey George is...dead", I said slowly.
He looked up, his eyes red. Ugh :/
"He is..?" He was shocked. Yet there was an odd tinge of pleasure. "But...how?"
"He was...murdered", I said, not sure why I let him know that.
"By whom?"
Gawd. Curious much? And I thought that was Curious George's job!

"I have no idea", I said. Normally, when people lie, there's such a thing as a conscience. But Zxy Hemendip is more than that.

Humming Jambiya wrote down an address on the pad lying on the nightstand. I took a look at it and turned to him.

"Are you going to meet her soon?"
"I suppose so, yes", I said.

With a final goodnight, he was gone.

I fell on the bed and slowly sank into a world of dreams.

And don't even talk to me about my dreams.

People have dreams that they can forget. I can't forget mine. They're just so weird.

Once, I had a dream that I am drowning in a green ocean with Lord James, snogging. All that can save us from drowning, is snogging.
That was back when I didn't like Lord James. So I hated these dreams. When I did like him, such dreams were appreciated.

Another time, I had a dream that I have an evil twin who happens to be a bellydancer, and is dancing for Grey George when all I want is for her to kill him.
I function better in reality, don't I?
My dreams just lose the efficiency of murder. :/
And the thing is, I dream about people i speak to/about before going to bed.
So, I could have a dream about Shontelle, Grey or Humming.
And none of that would be cool.

So I slept and I did have a dream.
Not as strange as always, but worth recording.
I am in America.
I know, weird.
I am in America and two Indian restaurants have closed down. So I have nowhere to go to. So I move on a little further, and find Lord James. That really gets me sad. There is no food, I am starving, and I have James with me. FML.
So, anyway...I move on and find a raised platform.
There he is.
Humming Jambiya.
Performing a dance that would come to be known as breakdancing.

I woke up with a start.
Not because Humming Jambiya was dancing. But because of the rap-rap-rap on my door.

I opened the door, looking as cranky as I do in the morning.

"Breakfast, ma'am", said the woman at the door. "Complementary, from Mr. Humming Jambiya."
Ah, crap.
"Thank you", I said as she arranged it on the table and left.
Dayum.
Whyyyy??

I ate anyway :P
I was starving. I hadn't had a proper meal in ages.
And the food he had sent over was delicious, I had to agree.

Avoiding Humming Jambiya, I managed to sneak out of the place and make my way towards what I like to call, The Murder House.
Why, you ask?
Well, isn't it obvious?
That's where Shontelle was murdered.

I hadn't actually thought of killing her right away.
I mean, I knew that I was angry with her.
She tried to get with MY Grey.
Of course, she probably didn't get to, considering his orientation (we had our thing because it's me. I'm awesome everywhere :D)
But even so.

I called out to a passing carriage driver.
"Dashton Street, please", I said to him.
We started off and I wondered what I'd see there. I didn't know what this Shontelle Jay woman looked like. In my head, she was ugly and fat.
No offence, Shontelle.
Actually, yes offence.
You stole my first love from me.
Witch -.-

We reached Dashton Street in another seven minutes or so, and when I got to the apartment Shontelle was supposed to be in, I realised that it was locked.
"Ugh, save me, Beelzebub", I said to myself.

"Zxy?" I heard a voice from behind me.
Oh, crap.
Who is it, now?

I turned.
It was a man. Obviously.
A man I didn't know. Obviously.
He was bespectacled and uncommonly tall.
Like really, really tall.
Standing next to him made me look like a midget.
Then I remembered.
I knew who he was!
Beelzeub had finally answered my prayers of helping me meet one of those two creeps!

"Andre...Murdoch?" I gasped out of shock.
Yeah, Andre was one of my most hated friends since school.
Okay, so not technically my friend if I hated him and he hated me (oh, believe me; he hated me.)
"I'm glad you remember me", he said, vigorously shaking my hand.
I just smiled and didn't say anything.
"What are you doing here in Lancaster?"
"Well...I'm meeting someone."
"Shontelle Jay?"
"How did you know?!"
"You're standing right by her apartment. It was sort of..obvious", he smiled. In the inside, I knew he was mocking me.
Douchebag.

"She isn't here", he continued. "Her husband died. His funeral is being held at Northampton. That's where she is."
"Oh...I am so sorry for her loss", I lied :P
"How have you been. Zxy? It feels like it's been ages!"
"Well, it had been quite some time...but I suppose we all lose touch at some point after school."
"I suppose we do."
"So, how is your wife?"
"Patricia? She is quite alright...we've all been good."
"All?"
"Yes...do you remember Mario Snako?"

I did.
Gawd. Talk about people I happen to know and remember.
Mario Snako was another bloke we went to school with. He was a weird fellow, too. Somehow, his power of communication strengthened through letters and notes, but he couldn't talk to anyone face to face. Actually, he couldn't talk to me much. We hardly had things to talk about.
Eh.

"I do."
"Well, he is our neighbour, and we are quite a group of friends, the three of us."

"How nice it must be", I said, trying to give him the signal that I HAD to leave.
"Would you like to come with me and meet my wife? Patricia would be glad to meet you", he added.
Crap.
I was majorly annoyed with Patricia.
The douche-woman.
Patricia and Andre were totally made for each other.
When they had newly embarked upon their love affair, I had said, not meaning well, "The two of you aren't made for each other. You ARE each other."
They took that as a compliment.

And Andre had the weirdest thing of saying my name again and again.
Not in the wrong way (God, I hope not), but just generally. Whenever he'd see me, he'd go "Zxy".
And Patricia would follow. I knew about several lovers from her past, and somehow, she would turn into them or really start defending them, and that would annoy the crap out of Zxy and Hemendip, both :P.

You'd think this isn't a reason good enough to be annoyed with her, but you'd be wrong.
She had a strange fixation with my boobs.
So much so, she tried to give them names. -.-
Who does that? -.-

So, it wasn't surprising that I wasn't particularly keen on meeting her.
But I said yes anyway. I like being nice to people. Can't just say no, can I?
Besides, how much could one visit hurt?

Apparently, a lot.

But I didn't know that -.-

So I walked along with Andre. Apparently, he lived in Grey's neighbourhood.

And thank Beelzebub I found him when I did, 'cause he told me some very interesting things.

"So, what brings you here?" he started.
"Unfinished business...quite trivial, really. Wouldn't bore you with it."
"Oh...may I ask how you know Mrs. George?"
"I am not particularly well acquainted with her...I merely knew that she was married to Grey before he died."
"Pitiful affair...died so young. They say he was murdered", he added, expecting me to be shocked.
But I changed the topic anyway.
"I never heard of Grey's wedding, you know."
"Yes, well...it was a solemn and quiet affair. Not many knew. Who could, under those circumstances?"
"I don't understand..."
"Well, they eloped. It was a pitiful affair with the parents, too..."
"Oh, dear...what happened?"
"Well...she was not very agreeable in her mannerisms, I was told. And he was rather....distracted.Not likely to be constant to Shontelle. They knew it, but were too egoistic to admit it. By the end, they were already drifting apart. But it was pitiful indeed that Grey had to die young."

Yeah, okay.

"I had no inkling..." I said.

A few apartments later, we reached number 17. Upon entering, Patricia ran out to greet Andre, and was quite taken aback to find me. Nevertheless, she found the will to hug me and kiss me on the cheeks, saying, "Zxy! Oh, how I missed you! Mario is here, too!"

Yay.

We proceeded into the living room...and boy, it was a pitiful affair -.-

Mario wouldn't say anything more than "Hello, Zxy; how've you been? It's quite wonderful to meet you again after so many years"
Patricia wouldn't stop giggling.
Andre wouldn't stop talking.
"Oh, do you remember how we were in school!?" Patricia and Andre asked me.
Uh, yeah I do.
"Zxy, you were the sweetest!" Patricia said.
"Yes, quite sweet", Andre agreed. "At one point, I had the strangest desire to rape you."
I looked up.
Say what?

"Oh, yes", Patricia nodded. "He once came to me and said that he found you so sweet, he wanted to rape you. He was quite in love with you!"

Eh?
What the Beelzebub is wrong with that guy?!
How is Patricia still talking?
More importantly, why am I still here?

Apparently, Mario felt the same.
So when he suggested a walk in the garden, I was more than willing to get out of there.

"You shouldn't mind them", Mario said. "They are sort of strange that way."
"So how have you been? You hardly seem to talk", I added with a small smile.
"Yes, well...so how is your James?"
"My James is long gone, Mr. Snako", I said, a little grave now. For the sake of it.
"Oh. Very sorry, Zxy."

And that was the end of our conversation.

I left soon after that.
But upon returning to the site of the winery, I found Humming waiting.
Gawd.
He was prancing so much, for a minute I thought it was Patricia again.

I went up to my room, after smiling at him and sharing a casual word. I wished I had a good book to read.
It had been so long.

I was just about to get to sleep when someon knocked at the door.
I decided then and there, if it's Humming, he's dead.
And I mean dead-dead.

It wasn't him.
Dayum. :P

It was Patricia Pollock.

What the beelze?

"Patricia? What are you doing here?"
"I'm sorry, Zxy, I just...wanted to apologise for anything wrong that I may have said."
"Oh...that is quite alright, Patricia."
"I do mean it", she continued.

"I don't speak against that", I agreed.

Just then, Humming, who was on his way to the pantry upstairs, caught sight of us.
Now, you'd think he'd just smile and walk away because he can't talk much, but you'd be wrong. He'd stop, come to you, take a look at Patricia, grin and start hitting on her.
"Zxy, you never mentioned your pretty friend", he said.

Oh, now I'm Zxy? -.-
Miss Hemendip to you, Jambiya.

I scowled.

They continued to giggle till it was evident they had hit it off really annoyingly well.

After that, she just left and I was happy for the first time that I had met Humming. He drove Patricia away :D

Wow, they really were meant for each other.

That night, I didn't sleep well.
I dreamed that Shontelle Jay would get me.
Not that she could, no. I am Zxy Hemendip, and she is...just a mortal.

I woke up the next morning, determined to sort things out between me and Shontelle.
By sorting, I mean having a duel. Except that in this one, it was a sure thing that I'd win.
Not because I had my father's gun with me, but because I was so much better.

"How may I help you?" she said as her house maid led me to her living room.

"I am Zxy Hemendip, Ms. Jay. Your dead husband's...intimate friend."
She froze.
Oh, look at that, she knew who I was!

"How can I help?"
"I need some information, Ms. Jay."
"Do tell."
"Why did you marry Grey?"
"I beg your pardon?" Naturally, she was mad.
"Why did you marry Grey?"
"My husband is...dead. It is highly insensitive of you to talk in this manner", she started to sob.
Gawd.
"I don't mean to be insensitive. But don't you think it was insensitive of you to marry the man I loved?"
"The man you loved? You have plenty of men to love you, I hear."
"How dare you speak to me like that?!"
"Ms. Hemendip, I don't need to justify myself."
"You do. Grey loved me."
"He didn't love you. He loved only me", she said. Poor, disillusioned Shontelle.
"He loved no woman, Ms. Jay", I insisted.
"Ms. Hemendip, I must ask you to leave", she stood up, ready to lead me out.
"He loved only Zed Smith", I continued anyway.
And then the worst thing happened.
The worst thing ever.
She slapped me.
That witch slapped me.
So I slapped her back.
Then she slapped me again.
And we continued to hit each other till it turned serious.
And you'd think I wouldn't strangle her to death, but I would.
I did, it was lovely :D

She was right there, and I just grabbed her neck and held it tight. I could see her turning blue. She couldn't speak. No oxygen supply. She was trying to scream. But no one heard anything. It was a quiet affair. No one would ever know what happened to Shontelle Jay.
But that meant that I had committed another murder.
Damn.
Now I had to hide her.
Or...I could just run away.
I had my huge bonnet on, it wasn't like the house maid had seen me.
So I jumped out of the window and tried to get the hell out of there ASAP.
But who should I run into? -.-
Mario Snako.
Boy. That really wasn't my day.

"I am invited to the Murdochs' for tea. Why don't you accompany us?"

Can't say no, can I?
Besides, Mario hadn't exactly done much damage to me or himself. So, he was okay.
Safe. For now. :P

We proceeded towards their apartment with real things to talk about. He was comforting and caring and told me a little about his life's sorrows and joys.
I actually started considering him as a friend.

Since Mario was always there, he opened the door of the apartment and went in casually.

But no one was to be seen.

Why would you invite someone for tea and not be home? :/
Suddenly, there was the sound of smashing glass and we ran towards where the sound came from. It appeared to be their bedroom.
And dear God, was that Humming inside? :O

"You stole Patricia from me", Andre was saying. "I'll kill you. I'll kill you!"
"Andre, please! No!" Patricia was moaning. "I love Humming! I am sorry!"
"Bah...humbug! Andre's words hardly matter! It's you, Patricia, that my life is all about!"
"Arghhh!" Andre said, and smashed a flower vase.
So, that explained the smashing noises.
Upon taking a closer look, I saw that Humming was stripped down to his waist and Patricia was covered in sheets.
Wow, Humming was quick.

Then I don't know what happened, but Andre realised we were there.
He turned to me.
"You introduced Patricia to Humming. I'll kill you. I'll kill you!"

That's it. No one says "i'll kill you" to me and gets away with it.

The room was full of noise again, all three of them shouting, Mario looking on cluelessly. It was so freaking annoying. Like my head was full of buzzing bees. :/
I grew so mad, I took out my gun.
I decided to take some air shots and get them to be silent.
Then I decided...oh, what the hell? Can't hurt to shoot one of them.
And I did :D
In the order of how much they annoyed me.
Andre, Patricia, Humming.
All dead and gone.
Except Humming was really gone. I couldn't find the douche's body anywhere. Strange. :/
Anyhoo, i was overjoyed that there was Silence once again.
I laughed heartily.
I scared myself a little.

Then I realised Mario was there too.
Crap :/

"What did you do, Zxy?" Mario was, in the world of emoticons, ":O".
"Don't mention this to anyone", I said.
"Zxy...this is wrong."

I still had one bullet left.
Had Mario not been such a wuss, it probably would have remained there.
But he did.
So it was bye-bye Snako! :P

Dreams! Ah, dreamy, dreamy, dreamy dreams! Dreams are often said to be our subconcious mind's way of telling us things. Well, if that is true, then i wonder what the following dream I'm going to narrate (dreamt on the way to Lancaster) says about my subconcious mind and me. This is how it happened:

"Ah, Lancaster. It will always be one of my favourite places.

I have visited all too many on my, er, pursuits, to pick one, though that barn would have inched its way to the top.*sigh* Oh, well.

So as I rode down the street, my new cat sitting next to me, pawing away ( I swear, that cat was nearly as annoying as her previous owner in the beginning), I realised that things weren't all that bad.

Okay, they were bad. I had killed two men (of sorts) in the past hour, and two more in the hours before that. Four men in one day. That was pretty bad.

But not that bad.

I had money (mun-ney!). That was one major issue solved. People will do anything if they see enough of green stuff that folds.

So on the way, I decided I was tired. I saw a boarding house - that was before the motels came along - and decided to stop. The police, I figured, were still blissfully unaware of my latest activities, and I could rest for one night before starting out early the next day.

If I'd had any inkling to what was going to happen, I would have slept in the carriage itself, to hell with the cold.

Or maybe not.

So there I was, banging the door to this boarding house, getting more annoyed - and more chilled - by the second. I had half a mind of scaring whoever it was behind the door when they finally did open it by trying the she-devil look again, but as I was contemplating that, the door was thrown open by another strange character (like I hadn't had enough of those already).

He (yes, again) was taller than me, and rather strangely, very dark. His clothes were strange even if they hadn't been tattered. And then, as if he couldn't see me, he yelled, "Whozair?"

I winced. Stupidity was clearly making its way down the evolutionary ladder. Why else would this man see me, and still ask ME, ZXY HEMENDIP, who I was?

It's like they never learn.

"I'm right here," I reminded him, holding my cat in his face and watching with satisfaction as he jumped backward, sneezing.

"I'm Zxy Hemendip," I continued. "And I want a room for the night."

He peered at me. "What did you tell?"

And I died. At the hands of this man's grammar.

Okay, I didn't. I'm not easy to kill, as you may have figured out.

But I did gag.

"I SAID, my name is Zxy and I want a room for the night."

"For the night?"

I was already imagining banging his head against the wall behind him, his blood dripping to the floor....

It was hot. \m/

"Yes," I said, shaking my head. No. No. Not one more. Not tonight.

Plus, this man didn't deserve a death at my hands. He was too lowly.

"What kind of room?" he asked with mild interest.

"What kind do you have?" I imitated his tone.

"There is a small one, and a big one, and a bigger one...and one with a man."

I blinked. "With a man?"

"Yes. And one with a woman too."

This man was officially on my crazy-people list.

Then I understood. "You're a pimp!"

Well, that wasn't exactly what I said. The word 'pimp' hadn't been coined yet,
but I forget what I called him.

Anyway, he said, smiling hugely, "Yes. You're the smart woman."

The one and only.

"No thanks. Can I have a normal room please? The big one."

"Okay."

Then he went around this big wooden table that had an old name plate that said Jared
Arsenic (ew!! Though the arse bit fit) and pulled out a pen, thumbed through a few papers in a leisurely manner, telling me about how he was a beggar by day and a pimp by night, as if I had all the time in the world. Keeping me, ZXY HEMENDIP, waiting.

I don't wait. Believe me. I don't.

I am patient, generally. Really. But not when I am cold and holding an overexcited
cat and on the run after killing four people in one evening.

"Can you hurry, please? I intend to actually sleep tonight," I said through gritted teeth. Was it too much to ask for a nice, understanding concierge? Apparently so.

He looked up, surprised by this revelation. "Really? Why? I'm coming up too."

I was blank. Then I realised I was being propositioned. I gagged again.

"That," I spat, "is disgusting. Why would I want that?"

"Because," his brow furrowed in obvious confusion, "you are a prostitute, right?

That's why you don't want man or woman."

My shoulders sagged as I gave up. "I am going to kill you."

He took that as a good-natured comment, and laughed. Laughed weird, like a cackle mixed with grunting. It only infuriated me more. Why do people who laugh like that exist?

Then I looked up, and he stopped abruptly. I could imagine how much more fearsome I looked in the flickering candlelight.

"Madam Zxy...??"

He looked so freaked out, I swear that if I hadn't killed him, he would have died of a heart-attack anyway.

I saved him that trouble.

My hands locked, claw-like, around his oily hair (blech), and before the man could comprehend what exactly was happening to him, I was bashing his head over and over into the wall.

Within a few minutes, the picture of my imagination was in front of me. He was slumped against the wall, his expression saying 'What just happened?' as if he still couldn't figure out that he'd been offed.

Oh, well.

Another man dead.

On the upside, Hilda seemed calmer. She went around trotting in the pools of blood, leaving pawprints all over the place.

It was so beautiful! I actually wiped away a tear! Me!

Then, a sudden wave of exhaustion hit me. I mean, killing five people is tiresome.

So I went upstairs, found an empty room, locked the door and went to bed.

The next morning, I snuck out early.

I had to get out of there, and fast.

Oh boy."

I woke up with a start, feeling thoroughly flushed, and surprisingly, in good spirits. Eh, well, when have I ever reacted like any other mortal?

Did I mention I had managed to secure a carriage for myself at the last minute? I saw one just as I was on the brink of becoming hysterical for the third time that night, and actually HEAVED a sigh of relief. Let's not concern ourselves with my journey there, shall we, as what happened IN Lancaster turned out to be WAY more important than the 5th man I killed that night (the carriage-man, of course, but I doubt he matters in the big scheme of things, foxy as he was *wink*).

***

So, here I was, off to Lancaster, unaware of the history I apparently shared with the place.

The history of my birth.

The history of my birth mother.

The history of Rosita Gerald.

***

As you know, the rain was still not letting up, but I had important plans to carry out before I continued with the rest of my life, and Lancaster had seemed the right place to do so. Sure, hiding the body of the carriage-man had turned out to be criminally easy but that was not what I was complaining about.

Oh, how wrong I was! Lancaster turned out to be the last place I should've stepped my foot in, considering what happened as I reached there....

I had Hilda with me (stolen from that bitch, Zed), and she wasn't proving to be a very, how do i say this...EASY pet. She often peed and pooped at the wrong times, and actually WAILED and howled when she was hungry, or when I was suffocating her, ESPECIALLY when I was beating the crap out of her! But more on that later, this story has way more important things that need to be discussed.

So, Hilda was getting all wet and annoyed because of the rain, stopping every few minutes to pee or something, and that was starting to piss ME off a little bit. Of course, since she was a cat, my threshold of annoyance at her was way more than even my threshold of annoyance at Valerie, but then who's wouldn't, when you had SUCH a cute kitty-kat! Pity she had to die at my hands...

Basically, thanks to Hilda, we were progressing at a very slow pace, and we only reached Lancaster the next afternoon. Once there, I started moving quickly, securing a place for me to camp out so that those darned Londoners wouldn't be able to find me. As I was done with the carriage-man, I quickly disposed off with his remains, and went around town to look for someone to help me with the pain in the arse Dead Smith's cat had become.

As fate would have it, or as the calendar dictated, it was a Sunday afternoon, and it was turning out to be a terribly tedious job to look for some sort of a veterinarian.

So I decided to go where I had once vowed never to step foot.

I went to the house of God.

Now, sure, people revere him and all, but I really don't see what all the fuss is about. I mean, it's just God. I don't get what all the fuss is about that guy. He's okay.

God too didn't want me in his house, it seemed, as before i could step into the 'holy ground', I met the bishop out front.

He introduced himself. "Good Afternoon, young lady. You don't seem to be from around here. I'm the Bishop in charge of this church, Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow, Abrams Poe. Can I assist you in any way?"

"Yes, Your Excellency. I'm Zxy Hemendip. My cat..."

The stunned look on Poe's face didn't let me continue with my problems with Hilda.

"Is something the matter, Your Excellency?"

"You're Zxy Hemendip?

"why? Is there some law in this area that suggests otherwise?"

Wise-cracking is OBVIOUSLY one of my best traits.

"No, no, of course not. I'm just surprised, is all. Are you in any way related to Lord Edward Hemendip? Perhaps a distant relative or something?"

I was getting a little fussed-up now.

"Distant-schmistant. I'm his daughter. Why do you ask?"

Then that silly man, His Excellency Bishop Abrams Poe gasped!

The gall of the man, gasping in front of Zxy Hemendip like he was some sort of commoner! Such men don't deserve to live, I tell you.

Wel, since we couldn't just keep standing there forever, I implored him to reply, and reply he did.

Quite colorfully, too.

"Holy Beelzebub! You're Edward's daughter? You're THE Zxy Hemendip? Dear lord of the flies, this means that...."

Then he huffed and puffed a little, and turned around and went away, muttering to himself.

I hate these kind of old silly men. Spooks, I tell you, one leg already dangling in the grave.

Since I didn't have anything else to do, I started looking around for other people. I didn't really find anyone besides this old Boho Beggar woman lying near the wall of the church. Desperate as I was now, about both, Hilda, and Abrams Poe, I decided to talk to her regarding the services of a veterinarian.

What she ended up telling me blew my mind.

And ended her life.

Oh, well, every war has casualties, and Alcoholic Anita, as she was called, was about to become one.

*****

'What do you want from me, eh? Stop poking me!'

Gawd, first in my dreams, and now in real life, why the hell did people talk to me like that? It's like they couldn't hear themselves.

Say, in this case, it would actually be true, considering that Anita was an alcoholic.

Who even drank that much in that day and age?

Didn't people realise what alcohol did to their innards?

Anyway.

"I'm looking for a veterinarian, you filthy old woman!"

"Vet-ry-naar?? Wot you talk about, eh? Had too much to drunk, eh?" And then that filthy old woman LAUGHED. That's right. She actually had the gall to be rude to me like that and then laugh. In my face.

And you ask why I killed the 'poor woman'.

I counted to ten, and asked in my most controlled voice,"I'm. Looking. For. Abrams. Poe. Where. Is. He?"

"Madowot?? First you asks fur my vet-ry-naar, and then for my Abra-poo."

And with that horrendous little outburst, she (thankfully) fainted.

Hoo, boy. Now I had two animals to take care of.

FML.

*********

Don't ask me how, but being the greatest being that ever walked this Earth that I was, I managed to get both Anita and Hilda to a hospital.

To THE hospital, I should say.

The Rosita Hemendip Memorial Hospital.

And that's when the mystery of my birth really started to unravel.

Huh, that just WASN'T my day!

********

"Welcome to the Rosita Hemendip Memorial Hospital, miss. How can I help you?"

Ignoring the fact that the Hospital and I shared a name, I proceeded to get Hilda and that ruddy, foul-smelling alcoholic woman admitted into the hospital to be treated immediately.

It turned out that the hobo's name was Anita.

In the vernacular, she was called Alcoholic Anita, but her official name was Anita Smith.

She was the one who told me two horrifying stories. One was the story of my birth. The other was the story of her death. Teeheehee. *evil grin*

********

Let's start with the more pleasant story, shall we (Just 'cause I'm feeling nice)?

This story was the story of my birth. The story that connected me to the Rosita Hemendip Memorial Hospital.

It all started when I went to visit Anita Smith.

For once, I found the woman sober and tolerable enough to talk to.

After exchanging pleasantries, and her apologising for her horrid behaviour, we got to talking about me (well, duh, why wouldn't we? ;) ).

When I told her that my full name was Zxy Hemendip, she gave a reaction similar to the old fogey Poe.

"What?? YOU are THE Edward Hemendip's daughter?? No, wait, you are THE Rosita Hemendip's daughter?"

I have to admit, for once in my life, i was SPEECHLESS.

But then again, I recover pretty fast from shocks of such kind, as you are about to find out.

"No. What are you, still DRUNK? My mother was Suzanne Thomas. And how the hell does everyone in this town know my father??"

"Huh. I think you need to sit down."

I obliged.

"Your father, Edward, was married to Rosita Hemendip nee Gerald, before he married that hag, Suzanne."

"Hey, watch your tongue, lady! Suzanne may have been many things, a whore and a liar, among others, but she was NOT a hag. YOU Are a hag!!"

"SIT. DOWN. Don't interrupt me again, or I shall never tell you the story of your mother."

Now, usually I wouldn't have backed down, but I could see her ears and nose going all red and fierce. So I thought, Just this once, I'll listen her out.

"Fine. Continue."

She raised an eyebrow.

Gawd, this woman was INCORRIGIBLE!! And SUCH a stickler for manners! I hated her already!! I promised myself that I'd kill her the first chance I'd get. But for right now, i had to listen to what she had to say.

"PLEASE."

"Sure. So, your father was married to Rosita Gerald, The Belle of London. And Lancaster, for that matter. Everyone loved her, apparently! Of course she died before I was born, so all I know about her is from the stories I've heard my mother tell me over the years. She and Rosita were very good friends, apparently, and even debuted together! Anyway, Rosita bagged the most eligible bachelor of the season, in the fourth week of the Debutante Balls itself. Your father. Now, HIM, I've even had the pleasure of meeting. A most agreeable man, I must say! You're a VERY lucky girl!"

Oh, she had no idea!

"Your father and Rosita spent around a year and a half in marital bliss, during which time my parents too got married. Soon, your mother was pregnant with you. Oh, what a joyous occasion it was for the family! My mother tells me it was one of the Golden Times of your family! There was laughter all around you house! Your father made several large donations in several hospitals, and got a special wing made in the then General Hospital,named after your mother, where YOU, apparently, were to be the first child to be born. The wing was almost complete by the time your mother's nine months were over, and indeed, you WERE the first baby to be born in that wing. But your mother was also the first person to die in that wing."

Inspite of myself, I gasped.

"She died during childbirth. My mother, around two months pregnant with me then, was one of the midwives for the birth. She witnessed the whole thing. Your mother was a very short, frail young woman. She had a rose in her hair, as usual, the day of you birth, and she was very excited about you, her 'child'. She loved little boys and was actually hoping for a boy, but God decided to give her YOU, a beautiful little girl, instead. Anyway, her birth was VERY painful. There was blood everywhere! A doctor suggesting aborting you at the last minute, but she wouldn't hear of it. She just wanted to hold her 'child' in her arms. So she persisted. But frail and of a little stature as she was, she couldn't handle the pain, and died. Not before hearing the sound of your crying, though. In her last breath, she asked to see her little boy, and no one could bear telling her that she had in fact, given birth to a girl. They all just looked away from her bloody, lifeless body, and when they looked at her again, the rose in her hair lay wilted. It died with her, it was said. It couldn't survive without her nurturing presence. Your father would have died too, had it not been for you. He took one look at you, said, "she takes my breath away, she looks just like Rosita", sold his house in Lancaster, gave all his money to the now Rosita Hemendip Memorial Hospital, packed his bags, moved to London and married Suzanne Thomas, so you'd never feel like you didn't have a mother. Great man, he was, really!"

Yeah, so great that he couldn't see his own wife having an affair with a young, though spritely, doctor, I wanted to comment, sarcastically, but held my tongue, since this woman so evidently had a crush on him...

"Oh. Okay. Good to know. Thanks. So tell me about you. I have some time to kill before I go pick up my cat and get the hell outta here."

"Me? I'm an alcoholic. You know that already."

"Yeah, but tell me about your past. You obviously weren't born an alcoholic, something made you this way."

"Oh, that. Two words. Broken Marriage."

Now, THIS sounded VERRRRY interesting.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Here, I inserted my concerned look.

"Sure. Everyone knows all about it anyway. My husband left me."

"For??" I prompted her.

"For another man. Yes, he seduced another man."

This sounded VERY familiar, and not in a good way.

"What did you say your full name was, again, Anita, darling?"

"Anita Smith."

My mouth ALMOST dropped open.

It was my own fault. I should have expected this. Two young men in their prime would OBVIOUSLY have been married, even if they were gay (and dead, no pun intended).

"Are you, perchance, Dead Smith's wife??"

The question escaped my lips before I could help myself.

"Not 'ded', ZED. Yes, I am Zed's wife. How the Beelzebub did you know?"

"Just a calculated guess, you could call it. So how did you...I mean, when did you...I mean...DIDN'T YOU KNOW HE WAS GAY??"

Another outburst, pardon me.

"Stop talking such slanderous things about him!"

"you STILL love him??"

"Obviously! Why else would I have married him in the first place?"

I ignored the fact that she fell in love with that disgusting, filthy, Grey-loving BEAST in the first place, and asked her about her marriage.

"Oh, it was LOVELY! At first. I'd known him forever. He used to hang around Grey George and some snouty bitch all the time when we were kids. I tried to talk to Grey once, since he was obviously the leader of the clique, but that brute (i sighed) never allowed me in that group."

And thank god for that, I thought to myself.

"It was just the three of them, that clingy bitch and Zed always running around Grey. They did all his bidding, like he was some sort of a God. Grey used to like the girl, used to flirt with her a lot, and I saw them kissing and holding hands discreetly on occasion too (I smirked), but what really got my goat was the fact that Zed used to worship him, and he always acted uncomfortable around him. I guess he wasn't ready to accept that he was in love with Zed then, and tried to prove his manhood by being all cozy with the snouty bitch."

At this point, my resolve to kill her had increased a million-fold.

"Anyway, the snouty bitch went away to London after her holiday-time. In fact, if I remember correctly, a whole group of Londoners, including your father used to come down to Lancaster every summer to spend it with his old friends. How come I never saw you with him??"

Because, I was never WITH him, you dumb little Zed-Lover. I was always with Grey. My father and I forgot that the other existed the moment we saw our old friends.

Ofcourse, I didn't voice this out loud, and said, instead, "Must be a coincidence, holidaying in the same place and never meeting."

She was too preoccupied with her precious Zed to realise I wasn't really answering her question. She continued,"Anyway, enough about her. Slowly, Zed started noticing me. He started spending time with me, and over time, we fell in love. He proposed marriage to me in the second week of the Debutante's Balls, and we got married soon after. Ah, those were the days. Zed and me, and Grey and Shontelle!"

"Excuse me. Shontelle?? Who the Beelzy is Shontelle??"

What she said next made my blood run cold.

"Why, Shontelle Jay. Grey's wife! Didn't you know??"

Before I recovered from this startling piece of news, she continued with her story.

"Shontelle and Grey were married soon after us. She had lived in India all her life, and when her parents died, and she came of age, she was sent back to Lancaster to make her debut. Boy, She was the most gorgeous debutante in our year! She debuted around three weeks after I did, so Zed couldn't get his hands on her, but Grey, being the most eligible bachelor in you year, did. He proposed to her the minute he saw her. It was love at first sight, for both of them! They made a BEAUTIFUL couple, him, so handsome and she, the quintessential English Rose, brought up in India, so she wasn't as devious." Here, that wretched woman gave me a conspiratorial WINK. Gawd, I hated her so much!!

"Those were some good days! The four of us had quite some good times! We travelled a lot, together, given how close Grey and Zed were, and Shontelle and I used to tag along, as she loved to travel, and would get bored with just Zed and Grey, for company."

"yeah, yeah, yeah. you had fun. where is this Shontelle now?"

"Now? Why, she's at her home, with Grey, obviously!"

"Oh, no, she's not. Grey's dead", I said, without thinking.

"WHAT? No! Grey's not dead! He can't be! I met him, what, a year back??"

Sick of pretending all was fine, I told her my side of the story. The barn and all.

Needless to say, she still had feeling for that scum of the earth Dead Zed, even after all this time, and she didn't take too lightly my killing of the two of them.

She swore on the holy grave of Beelzebub, and lunged at me.

Now, usually, I'm a good sport, and just move away when people lunge at me. No, really. I know it's hard, but seriously, I'm NICE.

Anyhoo, this time, I was really annoyed at her. And since I'd already decided to make a corpse out of her, I didn't stand aside. Instead, I tackled her, and then sitting atop her, asked her to meet me at a fixed time and challenged her to a fight.

We decided to meet the next day, at dawn, near the Church.

I collected Hilda, and left, searching for the ideal weapon to kill this smarmy Alcoholic Anita Smith with. I already had a slight idea, though, of what I might do....

******

The next morning, I met Anita at dawn behind the church.

Luckily for me, she was back to her usual self, drinking again. That made my job just SO much easier!

"Before we start, I wanted to say something."

"Says it, you husband-killer! SAYS!!"

Gawd, could this woman not speak properly when inebriated??

"I think we should have a little meal before we begin. I'm guessing you haven't eaten all night?"

"well, of course not! Fine. Let's do that. I AM hungry."

"Perfect, I've brought along a ham sandwich for each of us."

And then I handed her her sandwich.

********

A few minutes later, she lay on the ground, moaning.

"AAAAAH...some-ins hurtzing! wots didja puts in my san-wick, you bitc..."

Poor woman, never completed her sentence. The poison in the sandwich worked too quick.

oh, well, boo hoo.


I completed my sandwich, and walked towards the church. I found the confessional box and started speaking.

"Forgive me father, for I have sinned."

"Say what you have to, my child, I'm listening."

Ah, the Disappearing Bishop, we meet again.

"Oh, it's YOU, your excellency!"

"Yes my dear. Get it all off your chest."

Of course, I thought, as I took out my knife and stabbed the man through the heart.

Pesky little old man, with his stupid bald head and white beard!
Such a hindrance.

*****

I got out of there (duh, staying in Lancaster now would be like walking towards the noose), collected Hilda from the motel room I'd rented for the night, and got out of there. Where I was going, only God Himself knew. London was out, and I'd just ruined my chances in Lancaster. FML.

Oh, but not before I "took care" of Shontelle Jay, the woman who dared marry MY Grey.

Oh, well, that's a story for another day, and as Suzanne had always taught me, "ALWAYS leave them hanging, baby. ALWAYS leave them wanting more...."

;)

My first reaction was: Oh, crap. You know, I may be all adventurous (God knows I am, Beelzebub!), but there is a limit to how much I can take of it! You may not see it now, because of the whole murdering-ANOTHER-man thing, but I am a nice person. True story. :P
So, I came out of the barn, and who should I see? The bitch of the man bitch. The stupid carriage guy who had the balls to yell his head off at me. ME. ZXY HEMENDIP. So, seeing him right after murdering his master wasn't the best thing that could have happened.
"Where is Gregory?" he said, his gruff accent so pronounced, I swear I may have flinched. Yeah, back then, us royals hated the idea of having anything like simple conversation with people of HIS class. Because, you know, they were like this guy. Frail, shrivelled up and somehow resembling a very old cat.
"Why do you ask?" I said, honestly having nothing else to say to that.
"'e is my master. I am supposed to drive 'im up to the towers. Lady Cumnor wanted to see 'im. Where is Gregory?"
"Well, if he really is your master, I don't think it's appropriate for you to refer to him as Gregory", I said, deviating from the topic. "You MUST address him as My Lord!"
He paused and shrugged. It was the same shrug that Grey had just given.
That man...
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to make a move", I said and started to walk away. "Look to your work, there!"
"Wait up, miss!" he said. "Where is My Lord?"
I sighed. It wasn't going to help but I had no other choice.
"Gay is dead", I said. "I mean, Grey", I corrected myself.
"Eh?" he said, looking uncomfortable and confused. Just then, I realised that this wasn't the first time I had heard an uncomfortable and confused person say "eh?" that way. Someone else had said this too....
I looked up at him, my eyes sparkling with something horrible. I couldn't see my own eyes, obviously, but something about the driver's expression made me realise that I probably did look like a she-devil.
That was hot. \m/
"He's dead", I said, not quivery and shaky anymore.
"Dead?" he said, now resuming my previous role of being quivery and shaky.
"Yes", I nodded. "And I suppose you are...Zed?"
He didn't do or say anything. Just stood there, his mouth slightly ajar and his eyes wide.
"Gregory...dead?"
"I can show you the dead body if you can't believe me", I offered.
"But...how?" he said.
"I killed him", I said simply.
"Eh?" he said again in that annoying way.
"Yes", I said.
"You killed 'im?!"
"Yes!"
"Why would you do that??"
"Why? You want to know why????"
"Yes, I want to know why! Much as I despise you", he added.
I sulked. He never will change, I thought. Always the annoying old cat. Which reminded me, I needed to get a cat. I also knew for a fact that Zed was a cat person.
What was he, a girl?
Oh, wait; he was.
And he had probably turned Grey gay. Because I remember, when we were kids, Grey used to hit on me constantly. And he wasn't even the subtle kind. Sure, when we were thirteen, he used to hit on me privately. But by the time I was sixteen, he was doing it in front of everyone. So much so that people who had thought we were an unlikely combination started to believe we were already a couple.
That was a good time. :)
But now that I look back...Grey never used to be alone-alone. He'd always have Zed Smith by his side. Sure, he used to hit on me privately and there was that one time on my seventeenth birthday when we both lost control and snogged and almost made it to second base. Of course, back then, we used to refer to second base as "Jessie's mamma", mamma obviously meaning breasts.
Okay, so we weren't all that subtle!
"You really want to know why?" I said, fuming.
"Yes!"
"Okay...I'll tell you why, you freak! I'm Zxy Hemendip! All my life, I loved Grey. But his mum hated me. So, the bitch took him away and when he finally comes back and we're finally doing it, he shouts out "Zed!". Do you know how that feels? Do you have any idea how that feels, Zed?"
He shrugged again.
"I feel kind of nice", he said. "I mean I am sad that he is dead. And I am mad at you for killing him.But he loved me."
"Aw, is this a dear diary moment?" I said sarcastically.
"I don't have a diary", he said.
"You man bitch!" I yelled. I was so mad at him. I had never been that insulted.
Of course, I am talking about my first life.
"Look, I am going to have to hand you over to the police", he said, walking towards the carriage.
Like I was going to let him.
At that minute, I just wanted to pounce on him and rip his cat-loving heart out.
So, I did :D
I jumped on him.
And to say that he was shocked would be an understatement.
"What on earth are you doing?!"
"You won't call the police!" I said.
"I will! You murdered the man of my dreams!"
"You made the man of my dreams swing the other way!"
"He never really loved you!"
I gasped. That was the second time that a guy (to be precise, a guy like Zed) had insulted me.
"Zed Smith...you're going to be Dead Smith", I whispered.
And when I say these things, you just know I mean them.
And just like that, I dug my nails into his skin till he started to bleed and when he groaned with pain, I strangled him just like I had strangled his super hot and sexy, gay lover. He sounded like he was retching. Oh, yeah; that was the stuff. He tried to beg for mercy...one last cry..."Please...Hemendip..."
But I refused, obviously. I am a merciful woman. Oh, yes, I am. I grant the mercy of death. It may not be peaceful, but I do oblige with peace in the beyond.
He soon lost control and exhaled one last time before finally giving way.
He lingered for a while, but then it was too much. My job was done. Zed Smith had become Dead Smith \m/
I stood up and took a look at his dead body, sighing with the satisfaction that an artist gets on looking at his best piece of work.
Okay, Zed wasn't the best murder ever. But he was one of the really good ones.
However, when I realised that I had just murdered ANOTHER man (I should stop doing that, shouldn't I?), I sighed with distress.
Then, "Eh, well..." I said, sneaking into the carriage to find his Egyptian Mau cat staring at me with the lust that every cat beholds in its eyes.
My new companion would be my new cat, Hilda.

With my newly acquired possession and all my other things, I started out again. This time, I had a plan. I knew where I'd go and I knew who I'd meet.
Lancaster was just about to get lucky!

Turns out, running away wasn't the best choice I made.

Because the night i ran away, the night I killed Louis and Aneet, albeit "accidentally" was the night i fell in love, and out of it too.

Again.

And killed my love.

Again.

This really HAS started happening with alarming frequency in my life now, hasn't it?
Eh, well, a woman has needs, and men like Neil, James and Louis seem to have the capacity, and more importantly, the inclination to fulfill all my little heart's desires. Plus, old habits die hard.

Back to that fateful night, I ran away from my ungodly-big mansion, with just money to sustain me. I had no idea where I was going; all I knew was that I had to get away from London, it's judgemental people (people who thought that ME, Zxy, was THIS cruel and heartless!!), it's pathetic weather (which wasn;t helping right then...snotty rain EVERYWHERE!!), and most of all, it's VERY efficient police. Not only were the Runners VERY good looking and delectable, but they also took their job very seriously! Some should just chill once in a while, if you know what i mean! *wink*

Anyway, i started walking out of the city, hoping to see a late night stray carriage somewhere, or someone who could guide me to some town. Alas, my luck was playing "snakes and ladders" with me that night, what with the "murders", the stupid rain, and the sexy man i was about to run into.

Now, it so happened that the rain wasn't letting up, and I had taken shelter inside an abandoned, though thankfully clean and dry barn on the roadside. Don't ask me why there was a barn in the middle of the road, just know that it was there, and that I was grateful it was. I dumped my bags of money inside and came out again to look for any passers-by.

That was when I saw what was to be my fourth tryst with destiny.

Love, actually, but then isn't that what life is all about?

The carriage was normal enough. Not too fancy, but then not too plain as well. Just the way I liked them, infact. :)

I went and stood in the middle of the road, making the driver stop and come out to shout at me for standing in the way. I started pleading with him, asking him to please help me, and let me go, when he started muttering something about them Runners.

Then I heard this uber-sexy, dripping with testosterone, completely enchanting voice asking the driver what the trouble seemed to be. The driver, uneducated, ill-mannered git that he was, answered in his gruff drawl, explaing my "predicament", sarcasm dripping in his tone.

I half expected the man to get out and call the Runners himself and make sure I was hauled in(that's what Neil, James or Louis would have done if they were in his place), but what he did next made me sure that he was different from the rest.

He did come out of the carriage, but not to get me caught. Instead, he behaved like a perfect gentleman. He was kind, sincere, polite and not to mention, HOT.

Like really, really, really hot.

Like George Clooney, Brad Pitt and Neil Patrick Harris rolled in one hot.

Or maybe even hotter than that concoction.

He was the perfect male specimen, if I've ever seen one, and BOY, I've seen a LOT of male specimens in my time (and after my time too, but we'll talk about that later, shall we? ). Not ONE of them held a candle to this guy. Okay, maybe Neil did, but the man who stood in front of me had a beauty surpassed by none wh live in this time.

He was clean shaven, with a chiselled jaw, as finely cut as a sculptor's masterpiece. His hair was blonde (that was the ONLY thing I would've changed about the man, sandy hair makes me weak in the knees at first glance. Blonde takes a few minutes to digest, but the final result is still the same, if you know what I mean.), dirty blonde, to be specific, slick and put back in a suave hairdo. Though his eyes were his (and mine, as it turns out) undoing. Those blue-green pools of pure lusty colour! I swear I could've drowned in them! I'd heard his voice, before, obviously, but apparently, I'd falied to recognise it. Only when I'd stared into those eyes for a few seconds that the recognition hit me like a bolt of lightening from nowhere, plunging right into my stomach like one of those daggers I'd used to kill people.

This man was Gregory George.

Also known as Grey George.

Also known as Grey.

Also known as My.First.Love.

All at once, I had a vision of the past blurring by. Like little video clips floating around my head...The George family and ours holdaying together in France, The George boys (Grey and Paul), and Grey's hero-worshipping, snivelly little best friend Zed Smith (he worshipped Grey, of course!), luncheon with the boys, Amanda and me, little TEA-PARTIES that I used to organise for all of us, playing house with me and Grey as Mommy and Daddy, and everyone else as our kids, the tirade was ENDLESS! We had spent so much time together as children that it actually surprised me that I'd completely forgotten the man so quickly! Eh, well, I guess sex (and sometimes the lack of it, as well) does that to people. Then I remembered why I hadn't spoken to him for so long, apart from the fact that he had been away all this while, to Spain, I think.

The George family and ours had had a litte tiff before my birthday (the one on which I killed that bitch, Samantha, and of course, Amanda), and so I hadn't seen them in a long time. Suddenly seeing Grey brought back a LOT of those memories! Sigh, life does take unusual turns, doesn't it?

Grey looked at me weirdly, as if trying to recognise me from somewhere, but failing badly. I quietly whispered, "Grey", hoping that would bring back the memories of the first time I had called him that.

Right after we kissed for the first time.

Right after my first kiss. Ever.

Yes, Grey was my first kiss, let's move past it shall we?

Anyway, turns out that it did.

Because the next two second saw him turn red.

Like a frikking tomato.

Or maybe frikking tomato KETCHUP would be a better comparison. :P

"Zxy?"

"Yes, Grey. It's me."

"I almost didn't recognise you. You look dishevelled. Is something the matter?"

"YES!", I wanted to shout, and run right into his arms, but I controlled myself and instead, said, actully WHIMPERED, a "yes."

"I'm fine though. Sorry for hogging the road, I didn't know you were going to pass this way."

"Are you crazy? how could you know I'd pass this way? An more importantly, what are you doing here in the middle of the road, in the middle of the night? I thought you were married?!"

At this point, I really DID run right into his arms. I was just completely washed out from the whole murder thing, and completely turned on from seeing Grey after such a long time! I hoped Grey stilled liked being the saviour, as he did when we were kids, always trying to save little damsels in distress. Of course, then it meant little girls in pigtils, but I guess tonight, me was all he was going to save.

"I am! I mean, I was, but my husband is dead! My children are at home and there is absolutely no one I can turn to right now!"

Patting my back, he said "oh, now, now, Zxy, I'm really sorry for you. Don't worry, everything will be alright. Shit happens. We just have to move past these things, make a new start, maybe even revisit the past and meet with friends from the past, you never really know what God plans for us....."

While feeding me all this bullsyte, he probably saw the barn, and started leading me up to it, probably to get me out of the cold and wet weather outside. The perplexed driver had long gone to the carriage, probably realising that his casanova master wouldn't be returning anytime soon, especially of a promiscuous-looking woman like me had anything to do with it, if you know what I mean.

So, we entered the barn, him leading me into it, acting all brave and gallant, talking about love and life and ife-lessons all the while.

Now while I LOVE listening to hot men talk about life lessons, church and God (who wouldn't? :p ), there's just so much of it I can take without completely wanting to bach the guy's head into a million tiny pieces (and I think Louis would tell you the exact same thing. If he were alive. Which he isn't. Because I drowned him. In cold water, nonetheless. One word. BUAHAHAHA), so I did the second most effective thing I could.

I seduced him.

And BOY, was it good!

I stood up on my toes, leaning as if wanting to say something, and when he leaned in toward me, I took his face in my hands and planted a smackery right on his beautiful pink lips.

To say he was surprised would be an understatement.

To say he was totally into it too, after the initial shock, would also be an understatement.

So would saying that he reciprocated by grabbing by butt(aaahh).

But to say that he STILL managed to die at my hands would do too.

This was how it happened.

Here we were, completely making out, like not a minute had passed since I'd turned 16, every part of my body wanting him, competely, unconditionally.

He was totally groping my butt, and trying to reach my breats at the same time, so I made things easier for him. I opened up my blouse, and let him continue with the foreplay while I worked on his zipper.

Needless to say, a few minutes of moaning and groaning later, we were buck naked, going at it, RIGHT ON THAT BARN FLOOR! I was having the best sex of my life!

God bless God for doing that to me, Beelzy, though I would'nt EVER forgive you for what happened next.

Here he was, Grey, moaning in pleasure, hell, even making ME moan, when suddenly he called out "Zed!".

Seven times.

In succession.

While he was still inside me.

While we were doing it.

I stopped. Immediately. Which girl wouldn't, if she heard the name of the ugliest kid she'd ever seen come out of the mouth of the most beautiful man she'd ever seen, while she was riding him (or he was riding her, but that's hardly the point, now, is is? ), finally, like she'd wanted to, since she was a teenager?

Seriously, THIS was how my teenage dream was supposed to end?

I had one word, and one word only for what had just happened. FAIL.

Two actaully, if you think about it. EPIC FAIL.

That man was the biggest Man-Bitch I'd seen (or had sex with) in my life!!

First of all, he was GAY (or swinging the OTHER WAY, as they used to call it then), then he was having sex with me (and the best sex ever, too!), not caring AT ALL how I felt!! I'd never been this insulted in my entire life. Even Samantha seemed like a puppy in front of this man-bitch.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?"

"Huh? Nothing!"

"Don't you 'nothing' me, you little freak! I heard you! You called out 'Zed'. And not even once, not even twice but SEVEN times. SEVEN."

"oh, right. I'm sorry, I guess."

And then he shrugged.

It was at that moment that I decided that I was going to kill him.

Right there.

I dind't care if his driver was waiting in the carriage, this man had to die NOW.

So I killed him.

Easy-peasy, Simple-pimple.

I strangled him to death.

Sex always makes me feel giddy, but it also always makes me feel powerful. And I used that power right then to squeeze the air out of that super-hot man's lungs. He went from pink to purple to blue and then to white in a span of a few minutes.

It was the most beautiful sight ever. It almost compared to the vision of AP and ST's dead bodies, but then that was a classic. This was almost there, but not quite.

I guess that was probably because I actually loved this man. Cared for him, even.

But he obviously didn't mind playing with my feelings! Well, then, tit for tat, I didn't mind playing with his LIFE. Beat that, the hottest guy I've seen, dead-or-alive.

But then of course, after the rush wore off, my senses returned.

Oh, damn. I'd just killed another human.

So, (ad don't judge me for doing this because I know you want to), I did the only thing I could do.

I wore my clothes.

Took the money.

And fled.

Oh, damn, I was on the run again.

Ah...when I look back at my time with Louise, I realise how crazy and great my first life was. I had Louise, I had my baby girl Valerie, my ungodly mother, Susanne Thomas was dead (as was her monstrous boyfriend, Alexander Pinto)...what more could I ask for? The only thing I needed was an addition made to my staff. So, before we delve into this story, I take this moment to tell you about how two innocent lives could have been spared...had they really been innocent.
So, anyway...the story goes back to around the time when Valerie was two months old and I was beginning to get bored of her. She was a baby, so she couldn't really do a lot so she was hardly the source of entertainment I was looking for. I know you're judging me, but please take a moment before you do that, to look at how awesomely awesome I am. You can't judge awesomely awesome people.

Anyway...so, Valerie was getting boring and Consuela wasn't that interesting either. So, I decided to employ someone who would take care of them while I could delve into my interests of erotica. Again, don't judge me. I am a woman, I have my own needs.

I got a lot-a lot of applications. People from India, China, Persia, France, and even Germany, somehow wanted to be employed in the royal household of Zxy Hemendip. I decided to go for the weird looking Indian who didn't speak a lot. He was weird looking in that his ears reminded me of pixies and his voice, though not part of his looks, reminded me of a squeaking woman. His name was Aneet Batel.
Weird name, weird looks, weird voice...now, we're talking!
I can still remember the day we first met. He was the strangest bloke I had ever met. The first thing he said to me was, "Mm?"
In my own head, I went "eh?"; to him, I just gave a weird expression.
"Where is your baby, child?"
Why, in the name of beelzebub, would he call me a child??
I put that aside and handed over Valerie to him, still amused that I had hired a male nanny. A manny.


So, with the responsibility of Valerie given away, I headed to my room where Louise was waiting with a navy suit on. (I know, right! Best thing ever!)

"Hello, sailor", I said as I entered, only disappointed when I saw that he wasn't wearing it. He was in his regular clothes, getting ready to leave.
"Sweetheart, I'm afraid I have to leave. One of your neighbouring dukes seems to be in urgent need of me."
As far as I could remember, I had no neighbouring dukes.
"Neighbouring dukes, darling?"
"Yes. Do you remember the George family?"
"Do you mean the family of the Duke of Lancashire?"
"Yes, them. The George family is back in the public eye and this time, Sir Grey George is with them."
As he said that, a sea of memories washed my mind and I was taken back to the time when I was seventeen....Grey....the first boy I had ever kissed....the boy who had had to leave town because his mother didn't wish him to be around me. That bitch...
But I outgrew my one-day long love for Grey. It wasn't the most difficult thing I had done, see.

"Will you be gone long?" I asked him.
"I hope not. They say that the father needs me. I should be back for dinner, I suppose", he said and kissed me goodbye.
I watched his carriage move away and realised that I needed a hot bath more than anything else. Not because I was tired or something but because...you know...I was bored.
"Aneet!" I called out.
The male nanny came running out with Valerie is his hands.
"Give me the baby...you can go and heat up some water for me...I simply must have a hot bath..."
"Yes", Aneet said, looking majorly confused. But I thought it was his usual look so I didn't give it much thought.
I played with Valerie for a while and called out to Aneet again.
"Aneet, is the water coming along?"
"Mm?" his squeaky voice croaked. "Yes, child...the water is ready."
"Excellent" I murmured and set Valerie in her cot. I walked out of the nursery and found Aneet waiting for me with the water.
"Yes, thank you, Batel", I said as he poured it out into the tub and left.
Not every hot bath goes the way this one went. Every hot bath involved a maid or an attendant setting out the hot water for me. Then I would get them out and undress, thinking about whoever the lover was at that time. This time, it all went the same way...I was just starting to think about Louise...when all of a sudden...out of nowehere...I put my foot into the water...and realise...that the water...is....wait for it...keep waiting...and I hope you're not from Canada, because the next part of the sentence is...COLD!
The water was so frikking cold! I said, "hot bath!" and THIS is what he makes out of it??
"Aneeeeet???" I called out, wrapping myself in a warm towel.
"Mm?" he said, stepping into the bath chamber/
"Do you remember exactly what I asked you to do?"
"Yes, child...you wanted me to get you water...so I did."
"No...what I wanted you to do was to get me water for a hot bath."
"It's the same thing, child", he mumbled.
"Is it? IS IT? Why don't you get into the tub and test it for yourself?"
And I did just that. I pushed him into the tub and didn't let him resurface for like a whole minute. He struggled to come up and I was sure he was panting in the inside and praying for dear life. But I couldn't help it. It was the one thing I had wanted. Hot water. Even that he couldn't get straight. How dumb was he? His pain gave me such joy...his cry gave me every reason to smile...
Soon, however, I realised that it was time to let him resurface. How much should I punish a bloke who can't get the water right?
So, I decided to relinquish control and let him breathe.
But he never did.
It was the worst thing ever!
Who the frikking Beelzebub would take care of my baby?
The man wouldn't breathe. He actually wouldn't breathe. The wuss couldn't survive breathlessness for a minute! Biggest douche ever!

I decided not to panic. The guy was dead. So, what could I do?
The first thing I did was to conclude that I was not to blame. Sure, I was the one who was holding him back. But this was an unintentional murder. I wasn't even that mad at him. I was angry, of course I was. But all my previous murders had had a reason. Like when I killed Samantha, she had insulted me. I killed Amanda because she was a born bitch. I killed my mum and Alexander Pinto because they were privately setting up their own private world of joy when they didn't deserve it at all. I killed James (sniff, sniff* because he suspected me. I killed Sam Viktor because he caught me and his brother going at it. It was pretty embarrassing. The seventh murder...that of Aneet Batel...it had no motive. He just got my water wrong. I would never kill him for that!
Eh...maybe he did deserve it. Because if you really think about it...you'd know that he was dull, boring, encouraged reading Chemistry, discouraged having fun and effectively brought life to a standstill. All these thoughts brought me to the conclusion that Aneet Batel probably did deserve death.
So, with the guilt factor gone, I sat down to think. Where would I keep the dead body? With the others, I had no problem. Samantha had drowned. Amanda...well, I had buried her because that was how mad I was at her. With my mum and AP, the hospital had taken full charge. Then James...ah, the poor thing...he had fallen off a cliff. "Accidentally". Sam Viktor was buried properly because people thought he had killed himself and Louise really helped me convince them that he was capable of doing that.
So, how should I have disposed of his body?
But would you look at my luck?
Just as I dat thinking about a way to get his body out, I heard the main door creaking open, Louise's voice penetrating the walls of my royal Edwardian style home. Edwardian, as in, it resembled the Edwardian style of the future. We are still in a time prior to the Edwardian era :)
I panicked. Louise was home. Aneet Batel was dead. I was in a towel.
It was the wildest moment of thought of my first life. For a minute, I swear I considered jumping out of the window. I did. I really did. But then Louise stepped into the bathroom.
"Hello, my lady", he said.
Oh, well...who knew? Had I just thrown my towel aside, he probably wouldn't have noticed that there was a dead man sitting next to me. But I suppose I was too late. He did notice Aneet Batel and was so shocked, I swear I haven't seen a funnier expression in my entire life.
"Zxy?!"
"Yes?"
He looked up from Aneet to me and I knew he knew that I had killed him. Accidentally, sure. But even so.
"Another murder? Do you never learn?"
"It was an accident!"
"Do you not care about your own children? For a minute, spare them a thought! Spare them your love and care and think about how dangerous it is to be with you! Think about the poor Aneet Batel's family."
"I do think about everything, Louise! Please don't think of me as a heartless package!"
"But, it's true! You are a heartless package!"
"A heartless package? If you call me that again, I swear on Beelzebub, they would be the last words you utter", I said, giving the exact same look I give to people when I am really mad at them. I guess that's what got Louise all terrified and he stopped talking.
"How did it happen?"
I narrated the entire incident of the water and everything and when satisfied that the story was over, he stood up and called out to Consuela.
"Where is Valerie?"
"I have no idea", I answered, looking up to look for her.
"Alright, that's it", Louise put his foot down. In his head *sniggers*
"You are a senseless woman, Zxy", he said. "And I don't think it should go on. You just don't seem to care about your children!"
"I do care about my children, Louise!"
"No, you don't!" he said and went on to point out the things that could classify me as an irresponsible mother. Gosh...he just wouldn't stop talking. On and on and on he went...at one point, I tried to squint my eyes and look at him. I realised that he resembled Lord Byron a little bit.
But goodness me and my arse, he wouldn't stop! So, I did what any sensible and freakish woman would do.
I put his head into the water and didn't let him resurface so that he can't talk.
And he didn't come up either.
Oops!

I could not believe it. The one man I had cared for after James...was gone,too. Dead. Like killed dead.
I killed him :O
The attendants would be suspicious, I knew. So, I did the best thing a sensible woman would do.
I fled. I decided to escape the town and start over with my father's money. This city was far too judgemental and if they ever came to know about the murder of Louise...boy, would I be the queen of controversy for the seven millionth time!

I could hardly believe it when it happened. I had never expected myself to be the one doing it, the worst crime against makind, taking away someone's life. And not just someone's life...my husband's life. Like I had mentioned it before, I owed it to him to be a good wife and not kill him. But he didn't give himself any other option. I knew then that I would move on with his memories in my heart and his child, first in my belly and then in the world. I just didn't know how I would manage having the baby without James by my side. With Consuela, it had been different. I had not known in the initial months what assistance was like. But James had to step into the scene and burst my bubble. God, I loved him! Of course, I loved Neil more...but yes, for having been there for me, I did love him so! With so much passion, devotion and such lust...

He was a lucky man.

Now, because that was, like, the fifth murder I had committed, people started worrying about me. Sigh...people, people, people. Why can't people just bugger off and mind their own businesses? I could not believe that my own father thought I needed some sort of medical assistance. "Medical" doesn't sound as harsh as I make it out to be, I know. But that was exactly what he had said to me right after the death of my mum, Suzanne. Of course, I had killed his wife so he'd be mad at me. But that didn't explain why his friends from Pakistan would want me to get myself checked. So, after countless talks with my dad as he tried to convince me of the merits of getting myself checked, I relented. I would go to the psychiatrist. So, he got me an appointment and I waited unwillingly for the seventh day of the week to arrive. The appointment was for seven in the evening and that was strange given how that was pretty late, considering the fact that it was in the 1800s. I got ready that day, dressed in the most inappropriate way so that the doctor would be freaked out and would leave me alone. From what I had heard, the doctor who was going to report was this man...a certain Dr. Clement Lagrange from Marseilles. I hated that guy. He was willing to come to England from France to check me but to do the same to my mum had been tiresome when I had suggested it.

So, anyway, I knew that I could freak him out by using the inappropriate clothes and everything. Plus, I was at another advantage, given how I was pregnant and hence, could talk to him about morning sickness and stuff and make him feel sick, too. When the bell rang, I was prepared. When the attendants opened the door and another came to announce his arrival, I wasn't.

"Dr. Sam Viktor", bowed Maria.

I was shocked, of course. Who wouldn't be if you expect an ageing doctor but a young and rather annoying one shows up instead?

I looked at her for a second with wide eyes and then said, slowly, "Let him in, Maria."

She bowed again and sent him in.

"Miss Hememndip", he took off his hat and bowed. Yes, bowing was rather important back then. When I do it, now, people laugh at me.

"Dr. Viktor", I did the same.

"You may address me as Sam, Ms. Hemendip", he smiled. "You may wonder what I am doing here, Ms. Hemendip. I am here on behalf of Dr. Lagrange. He was detained in Dashton Street for some other important business. His brother, Mr. Alain Lagrange II, has taken ill and may not be able to attend to you."

"That is quite alright, Mr. Viktor. I am sure you will take up his job and do it with utmost delicacy and perfection", I smiled, however furious I may be in the inside. See, we used to show manners to perfectly hateful people, too.

"Ms. Hemendip, you forget; you may address me as Sam."

"Well, then, you may call me Zxy, Sam."

"Zxy? What is your name, Zxy?"

I looked up at him, my eyebrows forming a deep frown. How could anyone say anything like that even in jest?

Given the fact that he was my "doctor" and that I still had to get him to not check me, I resolved not to let my sharp tongue get him. Instead, I just gave him a goofy giggle. He thought he was being funny.

God, how blonde was he?

"So, Zxy...how do you feel right now?"

"I am quite alright, Sam."

"Do you miss your husband?"

I looked up at him.

What was he, stupid?

James had been the best thing that could ever have happened to me. After Neil, of course, but how could anyone doubt the fact that a widow would miss her dead husband? It was only then that I realised that I was, in effect, a widow. That somehow didn't suit my image.

I immediately realised my need for either sex or murder but shoved it away when I realised why that douche of a man, Sam Viktor was in my room. But I did have to admit that he was the handsomest doctor I had seen in a while. After Dr. Mike, obviously. But Sam did have that German feel to him and had he not been this blonde, I probably would have used him for the fulfilment of my formerly described needs.

"Zxy, I hope you know that you are not alone in this dire task of getting over the painful memories of the death of your husband. But, it is something you have to go through and I assure you that I will be with you. Whenever you need me, I will be there."

So, maybe I could use him...

"Thank you, Sam. That is very generous and sweet of you, I dare say."

He smiled. "God Bless you, Ms. Hemendip. Zxy, I mean. Or is it Zemendip?"

So, maybe I wouldn't.

"It's Zxy Hemendip", I corrected him in spite of his unruly behaviour. I know that it isn't that sensitive a thing but I am rather proud of my name. To me, "Zxy" sounds sexy!

"Yes, that is correct", he bowed as I think he realised there was nothing else he could do.

"Zxy, I regret to inform you that tomorrow, I will be unable to attend to you as Mr. Alain Lagrange needs my assistance as well."

"Oh, dear; I hope everything will be well with him. I hardly know him, of course; but one does feel distressed upon hearing news of illnesses."

"Yes, I'm sure you perfectly understand how significant this is for me. But on account of its significance for me, I do not wish to deprive my patients of suitable aid. My brother, Louise Viktor VII will attend to you tomorrow morning. I shall see to it that nothing brings any sort of displeasure to you. I shall return after a while to make sure things are well."

With that, he bowed again and left. I was left baffled. How on earth did all the doctors have enough time to visit the poor soul of Zxy Hemendip? Could they not let her live her life (well, "lives" in my case) the way she wanted to? I know it's pretty self centred, but I really did start worrying about my own health in case my regular supply of blood didn't reach me.

The next day, I decided not to bother too much but dress appropriately. After all, the big guy upstairs had decided long, long ago that I would not have happiness as part of my life's tales. So, why bother? It's just too much work and by now, I think you may have gathered that I am a very lazy countess.

So, anyway; after breakfast, as Marci, my attendant, rubbed my feet and I sat with my eyes closed, the door opened and revealed Maria.

"Dr. Louis Viktor."

"Send him in, Maria", I said, straightening myself up.

And so, Louis Viktor stepped in and changed my life forever.

Maybe not forever, but, yes; he most certainly did change my life for a little more than three weeks.

"Ms. Hemendip", he said, taking his hat off and bowing with a different sort of charm.

"Dr. Viktor", I bowed. I tried not to gape at what I found the best face I had ever looked at or the best physique I had ever set my eyes upon or the best eyes I had ever seen.

"Please...call me Louise", he smiled.

Though he was Sam Viktor's brother, he held no resemblance of any sort with him. He was tall and well built, his suit clinging to what perfection I could make out of his body as seen from the outside. His eyes were a hazy shade of brown and his hair a matching colour. He seemed ahead of his time, for he had already learned a new way of styling his hair. He had cut it off in such a way that only a layer of hair was formed on his head. When he took off his coat, as did most doctors while treating their patients, I could see his arms through the transparency of his shirt and I was pretty certain that they were strong muscles. Now, back in those days, having muscles was not very common. Finding an exceptionally good body was like finding gold. Well, that is in my world. Most other women were painfully content with their men, so long as they could continue their gossips with their girlfriends.

"I feel obliged to assure you that I will try my best to be of utmost support to you in times of dire stress for you, Zxy. May I call you Zxy?"

"Yes; I wish you would", I said and then shuddered when he looked at me with those painfully gorgeous eyes. Fortunately, he just smiled a genuine smile and didn't say something like, "You're strange."

"I am here to listen, Zxy. Talk to me. Talk to me about anything you like. You don't have to talk about the death of James or Mrs. Hemendip or Mr. Pinto. I know that Mr. Pinto was a respectable, albeit monstrous man, and all the events against him were justified and quite intense. But you don't have to think about them. Talk to me about anything under the sun and I will listen to you. Loosen yourself a little, Zxy."

And just then, I did the worst imaginable thing.

I cried. In front of a smoking hot guy.

"There, there..." he put his arm around my shoulders. "All will be well."

"James was...the most wonderful thing that happened to me", I sniffed. "And I...killed him...oh, God; why did AP have to do ST in the first place? None of this would have happened!"

"Hush..." he slowly rocked me back and forth as if I were a little child. Under the influence of his powerful arms, I really did feel like one. "Hush, Zxy...we are all with you."

"Are you?" I looked up at him. Now, it seemed sort of awkward when I did that because I was in his arms and his eyes were just so deep that I could feel myself drowning in them. So much so that I suddenly felt blind and deaf to everything except for Louise and his essence. I continued to look into his deep eyes and so did he. Then he initiated the first step by moving slowly forward. He kept coming closer till all I could feel was his breath. He came closer still and then breathed down my neck, "Yes."

He resurfaced and I knew that it was more than I could bear. When he kissed me, I responded violently. Withing minutes, our clothes were nothing more than a pile, set aside as if unnecessary. By the end of all the action, because of his perfect moves, I was compelled to say, "Oh, dear...bless us and save us...Louise...you were the best I ever had!"

"I shouldn't have done this, Zxy. It is immoral to have physical intimacy with my patients."

"Oh, Louise...don't be this hard and fast upon yourself. Try to make mistakes. Mistakes make your life seem so wrong and enjoyable!"

"I don't know what to say!" he said with a small smile.

"Don't say anything, then", I said, placing my index finger over his lips.

He grinned. "I don't know what to do!"

I smiled and then whispered, "Do me."

He looked at me once more and we embarked upon that journey again. Only this time, we had to cut it short. Because guess who enters!

"Sam!" said Louise huffishly.

"Oh, no..." I sighed.

"Lousie!" Sam shouted.

"Relax, Mr. Viktor. Please do not shout in my home."

"I am shouting at Louise, Zxy. He has done something immoral and it is utterly despicable in the world of doctors."

"I didn't want to be a doctor in the first place!" Louise said, suddenly. "I wanted to be a musician."

"Well, I don't give a tiny rat's arse about that!"

"Sam!" I dramatically and hysterically said.

"I am going to have to do what is right, Lousie. I will have to kill you", he said.

I couldn't take it, obviously. I mean, the guy had just given me the best of my life.

"Alright, then", Louise stood up. "You can kill me. I have done wrong and I shall be punished for it."

Meanwhile, however, I was doing something else.

Sam walked over to him. I carefully wanlked towards Sam, too.

"I have no other choice, Louise, you understand, don't you?"

Louise nodded. Oh, what a brave man.

He took out a dagger, rather frail looking. On examining it, I suppose he realised it, too.

"Zxy", he looked at me. "You don't happen to have your old dagger, do you?"

"Oh, I do have it", I said, and on retrieving it, had the best shot of my life. "Take that, you blondie!" I said as I pierced it neatly into his body. As the beautiful blood came oozing out, I had no words for the joy that it brought to me. I turned to look at a shocked Louise.

"I love you, Zxy!" he said.

Aah, 16 July, 1809.

What a night it was!

One of the most splendid, ever!

I woke up to find myself lying on a hospital bed not unlike the one on which i had killed Suzanne and Alexander. Except, in this case, i wasn't being stabbed. Instead, two nurses were caressing my forehead, James by my side, calling out to me, shouting for Sam Viktor when he saw me stir. A few minutes later, when everyone calmed down, Sam Viktor came up to me and told me......that i was pregnant!

I was shocked out of my wits? Me, pregnant? Again? Oh, no!

No, no, no, no! This was not supposed to happen right now! I was in the prime of my life! Another child right now would mean disaster for me! I couldn't do this to anyone, least of all, myself!

In a fit, I told Sam that he was wrong. There was no way in hell that I could be pregnant!

Sam looked at me quizically, as did James. Only then did it occur to me that the expected me to be HAPPY! Of course, I should've known.

So, i gave them a huge grin and pretended to be surprised instead of shocked. I hugged James, congratulated him on becoming a father, and then came to askthe inevitable question expected of me..."Where is Mother? Why don't I see her with you, James? Is she all right?"

Tears came to his eyes. How would he tell his dear pregnant wife that her mother was just brutally killed? But full marks to him, he didn't try to hide anything. He came straight to the point and told me everything. Of course, he didn't know who was responsible, but he did imply that he would definitely find out who did this.

I have a confession to make. I got scared.

I thought James actually would get to the bottom of the murders and being the righteous man he was, get me adequately punished. So I did what any sane person would do. I killed him.

*******

killing James was one of the hardest things I ever had to do, and that includes the ordeal i went through while nursing his son.

I had decided that I would kill James only after the birth of his child, so as to secure his fortune.

So almost a year to the date I killed my mother, i murdered James.

It was pretty simple. I didn't want blood, but poison would mean immediate suspicion on me. So, I did the most logical thing I could. I threw him off a cliff. Plain and simple. Organise a picnic, schedule it for a rainy day, go to another place to escape the weather, land up on a cliff, push the husband off! What could possibly go wrong?

My luck held, and nothing did. Everything went according to the plan. The murder was clean, marked accidental.