“Are you devastated? Are you?” Nash enquired for the millionth time. Gawd -.-
Sure, he didn’t know that I was the one who had sent Malcolm falling after Nina, but really. How devastated would I be if an acquaintance of mine just happened to be stupid enough to die with a woman like Nina? I know Nash meant well and blah, but God, was he stupid!
Maybe that’s why he died. God decided that there was enough stupid on earth without Nash Martin and decided to start the cleansing process. I was his little puppet for the process, too (for God, I guess I could do it :P). Thanks for letting me do the good deed, big guy!
“I am quite alright, cousin Nash”, I sighed for the millionth time. “You shouldn’t worry about me. I am quite surprised, yes, that a woman of today’s society is capable of such affectation of sentiment. But I am not devastated. I can keep my calm, thank you very much.”
“Oh, cousin Zxy...you were always so brave”, Nash said, almost in tears, and THIS close to hugging me (where THIS=width of the nostrils of popular fictional villain, Lord Voldemort. If Voldy were for real, he and I would be good together. We could both be immortal, we both look amazing, and we both have an indescribable passion for the act of blood. And he would be perfect also because he doesn’t want anything serious and neither do I. We both have carnal needs and we’re both good at fulfilling them, we’re made for each other!).
“I was, wasn’t I?” I said and moved away, hoping he wasn’t really craving for the human touch of consolation. I do loathe hugs when they aren’t from my many lovers.

With much effort, he managed to regain whatever lousy, floopy state of being he called “calm” and said, “he was my best friend, Zxy. I never thought I would lose him.”

See, now I felt bad for the guy.

But a minute later, he started crying again, so I couldn’t be bothered. God. Be a man. If you think someone has hurt you, hurt them back. Don’t just stand there, crying like a moron. Society needs these reforms, really. People need to catch up with their original roles. Men should be men and women should be me. That is the only thing that can save society from murdering itself before I do it for society.

So, Nash did calm down after a bit and I decided to leave Paris. I was bored, I had had my fun.
I decided to leave Paris and head to wherever life would take me. Or wherever the train was cheapest for, because I kind of had to start living off the edge. Ugh.

The next day, as I sat planning my journey, Nash walked in with the most sober expression.


“Zxy”, he started, “I hope you’re well.”
“It is you who should answer the question, cousin Nash”, I stood up. “Are you quite well after the...incident?”
“I am not sure how to take it, Zxy...I am deeply hurt.”
“I am aware, Nash”, I nodded knowingly, hoping he would receive comfort at that. I’m a nice person, I can hope for such things!
“I am so glad that you’re here for me”, he said with a watery smile.

“I just can’t imagine what mental demon must have possessed Nina!” he continued.
“It is the demon of Beelzebub...probably”, I consoled him.
“No, Beelzebub is in charge of something else”, he sniffed. “Gluttony or something."
Douche. Correcting me? ME? -.-
“That hardly matters now, does it?” I said and pursed my lips. “What is important is that she is dead and so is the demon within her. None can conquer that. Imagine a world without her mentally deranged existence!”
“Zxy! Do not speak ill of the dead!”
“Oh, of course, I seem to forget that when the ill die.”
“Zxy! Do not speak ill of the dead!”
“Surely, you cannot be serious about this? Did you honestly think that Nina Jordan was worth all the affection you lavish upon her?”
“Zxy! Do not-
“I swear to Beelzebub, Nash, if you repeat that awful sentence again, I will make sure that Nina’s fate hits you like a bolt of fire!”
That worked.
Thank God for that.
I couldn’t take anymore of his evil talk about not speaking ill of people ill.

“Now...all this talk about death has made me thirsty. Would you care for some wine?”
“I suppose I could have some” he said, and stood up to pour us both a glass of wine.

“Zxy...do tell me the truth. What exactly happened up there?”
“Up where, cousin?” Yes, I did resume my good-girl mask again when he went there. Sue me.
I wasn’t nervous, though. He can always die if he does know the truth. And I knew his time was fast approaching. I could feel it in the air, the lingering doom of departure from the world. We all know I live for quite some time (I’m alive right now, aren’t I?), so it had to be the Martin boy.

“Don’t play games with me, Zxy”, he said, “I know you know what I’m talking about. What happened up there with Malcolm and Nina?”
“Nothing significant. Apart from their deaths, of course. May they rest in peace”, I added before he could start getting all moral on me.
“Is that it? How did they...you know?” he said, stifling a cry, unable to gather the courage to say “die”.
“I told you all there is to tell, Nash. Nina was enraged that Malcolm dared to give his heart away to someone other than her and she said that she couldn’t bear the thought of having him love another woman. So she jumped off the railing and Malcolm...oh, Malcolm, the brave fellow that he was, tried to save her and...died doing a moral deed.”
The way I put it, it sounded like a heroic scene. It really wasn’t, trust me. I merely pushed him off the railing.
All was well.
“I hope you’re right, Zxy”, he said. “For your sake, I do.”
“Whatever do you mean, cousin?”
Yep, his time was fast approaching.
"I happened to stumble upon Nina’s diary-
“Wait, are you saying you read her diary?”
“I did, yes, but you’re missing the point-
“What is the matter with people invading other people’s privacy? You. sir, have lost the honour of a gentleman, reading words that were never addressed to you!”
“I beg your pardon, Zxy, I did not know that mattered to you?”
“It does matter to me, a great deal!”
“I am sorry for that, but you miss my point.”
“Pray, WHAT is this mighty point you speak of?”
“Nina said that she didn’t care enough for Malcolm to die.”
“And...?”
“And that proves that Nina did not die for Malcolm. Did you have anything to do with...anything?”
“What are you implying, Nash?”
“That you may have unintentionally caused the death of my best friend and his stalker.”
“How is that a perceivable loss to humanity?”
“Zxy! Do not speak ill of the dead!”

I could have slit his throat right there, but I waited for the right moment. No, I knew that his death was imminent on that very evening, in that room and at the hands of the most provocative being to ever walk this earth. -.-

“Nash...what you must understand...is that one must not speak ill of the good people who die. Speaking ill of the people ill is perfectly understandable. In fact, it is greatly encouraged by me.”
“You are wrong, Zxy. And you are wrong about the events of the fateful day, too. Nina’s last entry was made thirty minutes prior to the murder-
“Murder?”
“Yes, it was a murder. You murdered them both.”
“Oh, bless us and save us! That is some very serious accusation! What evidence have you to say something so ill-borne?”
“Nina’s final entry stated that she was going to kill you and if she were unsuccessful, she wouldn’t kill herself because Malcolm didn’t deserve it. She clearly couldn’t kill you, which meant that something must have happened for her to die.”
“Are you completely ruling out the possibility of having fallen off from the third flight? We are quite high up here”, I added.
It was true, we were.
“You killed them, Zxy! Accept it!”

Oh, well.

“Yes, I did”, I said. “And I am not afraid to accept it. I killed Malcolm and Nina.”

Nash was horrified.
What a load of drama, God. He knew I had killed him, why would he put up the act?

“Zxy, I’m afraid I don’t have much choice, except to report you to the authorities.”
“Oh, but you do”, I said, moving slowly towards the liquor cabinet. There is glass in the liquor cabinet.
I am evil, aren’t I?

“Think about it, Nash. If you report me to the authorities, society will never hear the end of it. You will lose all your reputation and I will probably plan an escape route. You’re going to lose.”
“Then what do you propose we do? You are guilty.”
“I say, we let it go. I am guilty, but I don’t feel guilty. You are sad, deal with it. I will leave Paris tomorrow. And no one need ever know that I murdered the git and his stalker.”

Just then, there was the sound of a creaking door and upon turning, I discovered Swinea Birdlust.
Okay, so two people die today.

She got into the expected rant-How could you, Zxy? Murder? It’s so wrong and blah blah blah.
People are so monotonous.

While they were bitching about me, I moved towards the liquor cabinet and found the perfect piece of glass to do the trick.
It was the loss of perfectly good wine, but it had to be done. I had to hit them both in the head with the bottles of wine.
There was blood everywhere. It wasn’t exactly pretty, but God, it was beautiful! :P
They were silent, too, for the most part. Except for when Nash looked at me and realised that he was dying.
He should’ve been happy, really, reunited with his best friend. Not many people get the chance to do that. I’d like to reunite with my best friend, but my best friend is me :P


No one saw me, but I couldn’t linger anywhere near his home. So I packed up a few essentials and followed my escape route to the train station.

Nothing allures me more than the scent of a man. The scent of his perfume, how he makes it his own, how good it smells when you're embracing him, how good it smells mixed with the metallic scent of blood when you kill him. Really, I don't know how people survived without perfume in the olden days.

A man wearing his perfume well, confident in his skin is the sexiest thing alive. Couple that with the arrogance, intelligence, charm, and build of an Army man, and you have a winner. It would be hard for me to resist any of these qualities, but Gunther was displaying all of them. That made ME go a little weak in the knees. No, he wasn't the love of my life...the love of my life had other qualities...irresistible as well, but that is a tale for another day.

Today I go back to the General. The sexy General with whom I spent one of the most passionate nights of my life. The General who provided me with the best hunt. He was a tricky one to kill, he was. I was in a different city, in an isolated house, I wasn't very good with the language and my prey looked so very good! That couldn't stop me, though. Death is inevitable when you're with Zxy.

It was funny in the beginning, really. When he told me what he did. Alas, the humor faded, but the murderous intent didn't.

But let's begin at the beginning, shall we?

We were standing in the botanical garden, admiring the plants, when he kissed me. It was...sparksy.

I could feel the little hairs on my neck stand up. And dance. And squeal with joy.

I absolutely loved how intensely he was kissing me, like it was the only thing in the world he wanted to do, like he wouldn't rather be doing anything else. And who can blame him? I'm Zxy, after all. Even Beelzebub stops what he's doing when it comes to me. Sweet kid, that one.

Anyhoo, here we were, nicely kissing, when he reached down to my waist, and with a swift cat-like movement, lifted me in his arms. Then he carried me all the way into the house, up the stairs and into the main bedroom. And what a bedroom! It was gorgeous. Perfect. Thick drapes so no one could peep in, a thick, soft as butter carpet, an ornate four poster bed with silk sheets...oh,I could go on and on. But I won't. Because today's audience just doesn't appreciate this stuff, I'm afraid. You will appreciate what happened next though.

I knew that Gerald was fierce, but just how much, I was about to find out. We fooled around a bit, undressing each other, kissing each other pretty much everywhere. It was goo-ood.

Once we were both in our knickers, he literally threw me on the bed and the fooling around continued. And then. Oh, yeah. Then came the best part. It was a good things those walls were thick, or our screams could have brought the house down. And not just once. All through the night.

That was a good night. I often go back to that night. Sometimes, it even makes me shed a tear. Makes me wish I'd kept some memory of that night. Something long and thick just like...okay now I'm blushing.

The night couldn't have been any shorter though. General Gunther sure knew how to pleasure a woman. I finally understood why they called him a man whore, and why the women spoke more fondly of him than he did of them. That worried me a little, then I remembered that I'm Zxy. I'm the best. And that it's still an understatement.

Anyway, morning came way sooner than I'd expected, and the General was asleep. I lay in his arms, enjoying the cool breeze coming in from one of the drapes he'd opened. I was thinking about the past, planning for the future, just wallowing in the man's scent when I heard a knock on the door. The General woke up with a start. He put on a robe and went around to the door.

'Who is it? I thought I made it clear I was not to be disturbed.'

This puzzled me a little, for I hadn't seen a single soul in the house except us. Maybe his servants were ordered to stay hidden until told to show themselves.

'Disturbed? What are you possibly doing in there that *i* could disturb you?'
A woman's voice. She sounded like a vixen. Over confident and extremely stupid. I hoped Gunther wouldn't open the door to this horrid sounding, pompous woman. Turns out, he didn't have to. She pushed ajar the door with a huge smile which disappeared abruptly when she saw me.

"Gerald. What is the meaning of all this?who is this...tramp? And what's she doing in our bed? Have you been fooling around again?"

"Look, Olly, I can explain!"

Olly? What sort of a dumbass name is Olly anyway? And why was this woman being such a bitch? If she wasn't careful, I could kill her.

"Don't you 'look Olly, I can explain' you me! I'm Olivia Rasputin, not some idiot you can convince of your innocence. That's it. I'm calling Father right now!!"

"No, Olly...Olivia, don't do this to me! It was a mistake! She means nothing to me! It was a moment of pure heat...nothing else...."

And with that, one of the best sexual partners I'd had in some time trailed off after a woman named Olly. Life is just not fair to me, I tell you.

I did what anyone in such a situation would do. I panicked and ran out the huge French windows.

Haha, just kidding, I followed them. I quickly laced up my gown, powdered myself down a little ( because I must look pretty at all times. :P), and set off in search for the Man and the Bitch.

I found them a few minutes later arguing heavily in the kitchen. It seemed a good idea to not intrude immediately, to wait for a few minutes before going in and well...killing one of them.

It turned out that our man Gerald was married to this pompous witch. She had gone away to her mother's house for a few nights to settle a few issues, and he had gone and done this to her. It wasn't the first time, apparently, and she kept reminding him of this fact. She mentioned the now infamous Swinea Birdlust a few times as well. Nothing too vulgar though.

Call me a prude, but I think cheating on your spouse is a bad idea. I'd kill my husband if he ever cheated on me. As I was thinking this, another idea struck me....it would be like public service...no one would ever mind when they came to know he was a lying cheating scumbag....no...

"Say, Miss, would you like me to kill your husband?"

A collective "What?!" echoed around the big room. "No, you may not kill my husband! How dare you even ask such a question? And who are you anyway? You come in here and make love to MY husband in MY bed and then you have the nerve to ask me if you want him to die. Leave. This very instant! Or I WILL call the Guards on you!"

Now, now, now. Who has ever threatened Zxy and gotten away with it? No one, I tell you, that's who. I was being nice to this horrid woman, and she was trying to order Zxy around. This is exactly the kind of situation which calls for blood. No can boss Zxy around and think she would actually listen. Our man Gunther was in shock, by the way. He was rooted to the spot, looking from his wife to me at regular intervals. He probably thought I was crazy. Oh, what did he know! But he looked so darned adorable, with his mouth hanging wide open, that I decided to give it one more shot.

"Look. I didn't know he was married, and believe me, I don't believe in extramarital affairs, however meaningless they may be. Now, I see this man at fault. If he was my husband, I would have killed him. But looking at your puny stature, I doubt you could pull off something of this kind. So,I ask you again, do you want me to kill your husband? I could hide the body, and no one need find out. Im very good at this stuff...kind of like a little hobby I'm currently pursuing."

Now, most women, when offered something as splendid as that, would jump at the shot. But this one was trying to get all feisty on me. She screamed. For guards. Now, I don't mean to be rude here, but really, I was a guest in her shabby little house with its stupid botanical garden, and she was setting her guards on me. Who does that in this day and age?

I was feeling sorry for her earlier, but now that turned into anger. I looked around the kitchen, found a pot of powdered pepper (quite a new invention for that time), and threw it in her eyes. And when Gunther shrieked in protest, some in his eyes too. It was a quite a hilarious sight, actually, husband and wife flailing about as turtles out of water. I decided to take care of 'Olly' first, since she was just so bloody shrill, and went on to strangle her to death. Such an awesome moment! You should have seen the smile on my face. And the colors on hers. There really is something to be said about watching someone's face go from pink to purple to blue to colorless, all in the span of a few seconds, JUST because they can't breathe. Makes us grateful for all the air around, eh?

Gunther was being annoying, though. I didn't want to kill him yet, but he just wouldn't stop clawing at me. So I stuffed a huge onion in his mouth, and pushed his hands behind his back and led him back to his bedroom. I left him there for the time being and went down and disposed off the puny bitch's body. Nothing a little fireplace can't solve. She was obviously lying through her teeth about the guards, because none ever showed up, or I'd have had a little trouble with the next plan of the plan.

I returned to Gunther's bedroom just in time to see him trying to escape from the window. I swear a smile crossed my lips.

"Now, now, what's the hurry? If I truly wanted to kill you, I would have done so back in the kitchen itself, honey."

"Uh...uh...I know what you are. I know you like murdering people. You've just killed five people in England and you're on the run. Please...let me go. I won't let anyone know about this. I will keep your secret. I've kept government secrets. Your secrets are nothing, really. I should go."

"Lies! Libel! Scandal! Blasphemy! Outrage! How do you know all that? No one should know about that!!"

"I...uh...ummm...uh...well..."

I sat on the bed and crossed my fingers impatiently. "Get on with it, now. We don't have all day. How the bloody 'ell do you know my deepest darkest secrets? Sure, I'm proud of them, but you have no way of knowing that." my right eyebrow was raised so high, I was afraid it would go and join my hairline.

"Now...I don't think I can tell you how I know. It's not a very pleasant story. And it was a mistake. I'm not a big deal, really! It was the reason I was attracted to you in the first place! When I saw that you were a woman of such talents, it made me want you...but don't be so childish now...let me go!"

"Enough! Tell me how You know, or else..."

The 'or else' hanging in the air may have done the trick.

He told me the most disgusting thing I'd ever heard. It made my blood boil, my fists clench and my hair stand on end again, but not for a nice reason this time.

"I...uh...I read your diary."

Those four words were the reason that man died, really.

"Come again. I thought I heard what you said as 'I read your diary'. That can't possibly be right, now can it?" I said with a tight smile.

"It's true. It happened on the train. You were clutching it when you wee asleep, and when it fell, a page fluttered open. I happened to read a little of what it said. I was intrigued, and I thought it was a joke, but when you talked about the Grand Ball and Swinea, I knew something was wrong. My hat was right next to your diary, so in your sleep, you picked that up instead. I was impressed by you, and so attracted. Thats why I had to attend the Grand Ball. For a chance to meet you again..."

By the end of that little speech, his voice had become extremely soft, and animated. He even sounded a little cocky, to be honest.

"I do not appreciate this."

"Look, I've told you the truth. What's done is done. Can't we get past this? Last night was one of the best I've ever had, and I'd like my alliance with you to go on for some time to come...."

The cocky tone and the words 'ONE OF THE BEST' kind of put me off a little. Who even says that? Zxy Hemendip is the best, period.anything less than that is an insult, really.

"Aw honey, aw sweety, it's alright. So you read my diary. Who cares? It's not that big a deal, really."

"Really? So we're good then?"

"Oh, no. What gave you that idea? People have died for measlier offenses, as you may have read IN MY DIARY!"

Gawd, people around here were STUPID. They read my diary, they boss me around and think I'd forgive them. Some people just underestimate me, I must say.

Killing him was a pity, I'll give you that. I almost felt bad, between the surges of anger.

Then again, spilling blood is therapeutic for me, so I felt much better once I was done. His murder was simple enough...knives, ropes and broken glass was involved. The broken glass was his fault, though, he just kept trying to escape. Silly Boy.

After a sweaty half an hour, and not for the right reasons, mind you, he was finally lying slain on the bed, his blood seeping through those beautiful sheets. He STILL smelt sexy as ever, I must give him that....England lost a soldier that day, I, brilliant love making. And his bitch of a wife.

Oh, well.

----------

Nash Martin was a good man, but he had one tiny fault. He loved Balls. And he loved taking people to Balls. And for some God damn reason, he absolutely beamed at the prospect of taking ME to Balls. I don't quite blame him though, I AM pretty awesome.

This annoying quality of his was going to be the death of him someday.

Not right then, for then I was...distracted by another presence. He came in the form of a prancing fellow, Malcolm Blumenthal. He seemed nice enough at first, but turned out to be quite a Man Bitch.

I blame Nashy-Boy for all the blood spilled that night, really.

I'd just come back to his house after the Gunther fiasco, and I was looking forward to soaking in a tub of hot water for a few hours before departing quietly, when Nash told me to join him at the Promenade Ball that night. TOLD me. Like just because I was his sister I should agree.

I should have killed him right then. Woulda saved three lives. At the cost of his, but that's hardly the point now, is it?

Anyway, being the magnanimous sister, I agreed to go with him. It was a social event, and he didn't want to be seen with just a hired escort in tow (Our lovely Swinea Birdlust). He did have to bribe me with the promise of a new dress though. Good enough for one night of dalliances, I suppose.

As it turned out, this was a Ball like no other. Even though it's name didn't hint so, this particular Ball was THE event on the social calendar. Especially if you were young and fabulous. The Grand Ball was filled with old fogeys in comparison.

As soon as we entered, I saw a man prancing towards us. And then I saw cousin Nash give a huge smile. And not one I fully considered heterosexual. Hmmm...interesting. I wasn't the only one keeping secrets.

He introduced me to his 'friend', who turned out to be our latest victim, Malcolm Blumenthal. He was...wait for it...a designer. Explained a bit about the prancing. And the looking me up and down and smiling approvingly at my choice of outfit. Till I was told (in a side whisper) that he was as straight as a dog's tail is curved. He had a new woman in his life every few months, and rumor had it that he had finally decided to settle down. This Ball was to be his screening ground of sorts for potential wives.

They were talking about Nash making a toast, while Ms. Birdlust was telling me about Blumenthal's stalker, of sorts, Nina Johnson. She was crazily in love with him, I'd heard, and would do anything to get her hands on him. Unfortunately, Blumenthal couldn't be bothered to return her affection, or this story might have had a happy ending.

"Should I do it or not, Malcolm?! I need to make my presence felt in this place!"

"Then make a toast...Don't make a toast!"

"What? Make up your mind!! Why should I not make a toast?"

"Look, if it were me, I wouldn't make a toast. The people at Promenade are just not worth it. But the choice is yours, really."

"Fine. I won't do it. Okay, listen. I need you to take care of my cousin Zxy here for some time while I network a bit."

He turned to me, "Zxy, I need to go around for a while, and I'm taking Swinea with me. Malcolm here will take of you till then, alright? Now, don't do anything naughty while I'm gone."

To Malcolm he said as he left," she's a fiery one, this one. Handle with care." and then winked at him. Seriously. WINKED. This world was going to the dogs, I tell you.

"So, Ms Hemendip, I'm assuming this is your first Ball here in Paris?"

"No. I attended the Grand Ball recently. Quite an affair that turned out to be, really."

"Hmmm..I missed that one. I was away on business, you see. Hook Fashions is my life. It requires me to travel every so often, though....blah blah blah."

I looked around. The dance floor at this place was fantastic! The music was PERFECT. The French really could put on a great show. I couldn't wait to get on it and start swaying around. But for that, SOMEONE had to ask me for a dance first.

I decided to be straightforward. "Are you going to ask me for a dance or what?"

He put his hand to his face and gave a laugh. "Oh, I'm starting to bore you, aren't i? It's just that I'm not very fond of this music. I was in fact going to ask you to walk around with me for some time, till they start playing better music."

Uh. Huh. This man was aching for a beating, wasn't he? I thought I'd do it his way for some time, though.

"Okay. Lead the way."

We turned around. And bumped into a precociously dressed woman. She was frowning intently at me. Call me omniscient or a good listener, I realized in a jiffy who this personality was.

"Nina Johnson, how do you do?", I asked with a big smile on my face.

"Malcolm! Who is this woman? How does she know my name? Why are you with her?"

Before Blumenthal could launch into another monologue, I stopped him short.

" Ms Zxy Hemendip. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Your reputation precedes you, I'm afraid. And don't get all huffy about it, Malcolm is just showing me around. You have absolutely no reason to be jealous. Or whatever."

The two of them stared at me open-mouthed. I tugged at Malcolm's sleeve, and without another word, we set off.

After a few minutes, I asked him about Nina. "So what is the deal with the two of you? You lovers or summat?"

"Oh, no, no! I have no feelings for her, and I never gave her the idea that I might have. She has taken it upon herself to make me fall in love with her. If not by hook, then by crook. This one time, she literally crossed out another woman's name on a piece of paper, simply because it was written next to mine. Some sort of romantic gesture she supposed it to be. Oh, well."

"Wow, so she's a head case."

"In a way, yes. But I can't just tell her to bugger off. I did that once, and it made her face fall like someone had told her she was going to die. Since then I let her be. I do hope she'll find someone someday..."

"Oh, I'm sure she will. She seems like a normal enough person to me."

If he understood the sarcasm in my voice, he didn't express so. He mumbled a "Hmmm" and then continued talking.

"Say, would you like something to eat? I've been mighty rude haven't I?"

I wanted to say yes, just to annoy him, but I shook my head No. "It's okay. You still have time to better your mistakes. Can you get me some chocolate from the Bar, please?"

"Sure! Anything else, milady?"

"No, that much would work fine for now, thank you. Now off you go, fetch!"

I still don't know why I said those last five words. Maybe I'd already decided subconsciously that this man was a bitch.

He returned a few minutes later with some chocolate for me, a Lick-A-Joseph for himself and a note in his hand.

"I was at the Bar, and inspiration suddenly struck. I think it was you, Zxy."

Then he showed me the note.

It was the drawing of a woman in a dress with the words 'Dearest (Ms) Hemendip' at the top, and the words 'Teenage Dream' (it was a popular love ballad at the time.) at the bottom coupled with a huge heart and his name inside it.

I think I puked a little in my mouth.

"What is the meaning of all this? And I hate 'Teenage Dream'! It's a pathetic song!"

His face fell a little, and then he tried to explain. I didnt listen to a word. Instead, I bit into the chocolate he had brought me. It was bad, I tell you. It had little pieces of nuts inside. Must be some new fangled thing the French were trying. The French were awfully annoying sometimes, really. Of course, Blumenthal had to bear the brunt.

"Shut up. I don't want to listen to your jibber-jabber. I hate this chocolate. It has pieces of nuts in it!" With that, I threw it away and walked off.

Now, if it were any other man he would have been cross with me. But this man was made of different mettle, apparently. He pranced after me, took my arm, and in front of everyone, landed a wet one on me. I won't lie to you, it was good. I got into it too, but then I remembered Nash. I guess Blumenthal did too, and he stopped.

We broke away, embarrassed. His face was flushed, and I was sure mine was too. I've done many unspeakable things in my life, but this was a first. I had never been involved in public display of affections before. It was...exciting. It melted my heart a little. MINE. I know, right?

I looked at him questioningly, and he led me away, amidst (extremely loud -.-) whispers of "Mrs. Hook!" and stares.

"I'm sorry. I was out of line. It's just that...I like bitches. I find them tres desirable. And you seem to be so real, so amazing. I think I'm falling in love with you."

I suppressed the urge to laugh. Or vomit. But barely.

"Are you out of your mind? I'm a married woman with children. You can't love me!"

People in France (hopefully) hadn't found out about the unfortunate murders I'd committed before arriving in their country.

"I don't care. My feelings for you won't change. You can reject me, but I'll still love you."

To make matters worse, we were joined by Nash, who I guess must have heard about the slobbery incident.

"AHEM. Mr and Mrs Hook. May I interrupt you?"

I gave him a death stare. And then scrunched up my face in an expression of anger he well recognized from our childhood days. It wiped the smirk right off his face.

"Fine, don't give me that look now."

"Please leave us alone for a few minutes. We need to sort this thing out before it gets any more out of hand."

"Okay, okay...Mrs. Hook!"

And with that he ran off. Bitch. I was going to kill him. -.-

But first I had to deal with the smitten kitten in front of me. He was giving me this lost puppy-dog look, his eyes all rounded and his lips open in a smile. He looked quite cute then. Something about that look always floors me. I almost wanted to start kissing him again, but I didn't want him to get the wrong idea. He had no way of knowing I like to use and throw away men for purely physical purposes.

I told him to continue walking. We walked on in silence for some time. Then we reached a flight of stairs, and on an impulse, I started climbing it. He followed me, of course, still not daring to say another word. I kept on climbing till we reached what looked like a terrace garden of some sort. I stood in the middle of it and said, "Now, give me your explanation."

"Er, look. I don't think I have words to express how I feel about you. I love you barely covers it. Marry me. Please!"

"I told you I have a husband!"

"Leave him! I'll make you happier than he can ever make you."

Oh, that part WAS true. Dead men give no pleasure.

"Well..."

He looked at me with those puppy eyes again, and I melted even more....Paris was a nice city to stay in...so romant-

"You little wench. You come in here and try to steal my man. I'm going to make you pay."

Guess who had joined us up on the roof? Our favorite Ms Johnson, of course!
Gawd, I could NOT get a rest. -.-

"Why are you here? Who invited you here? Please leave. This instant."

"No. Nuh-uh. I'm not going till you say no to him. He has to end up with me. I'm willing to wait for him to come around, but I won't let him marry you. You don't deserve him."

*I* didn't deserve *HIM*? That was a first. I was Zxy. People didn't deserve ME, not the other way round. I deserved more than him, in fact.

I expressed those thoughts out loud. She didn't seem to take this very well. She took a swing at me.

Now, usually, good-natured that I am, I move back, and taaf people when they swing at me, and don't kill them. But this time, probably because of the exhaustion (mental and physical), I didn't. Her hand made contact with my face. Hard.

And I fell. Into Blumenthal's arms, but that's a different story.

Some men try to stop women from fighting, because they know it can get ugly. Some men like to watch. Malcolm belonged to the former group. He saw I was hurt, and he saw anger dawning on my face.

He tried to stop me, but I was in a rage. I lashed out towards Nina, and caught her smack in the eye. It started bleeding a little. Malcolm looked worried, but he still tried to restrain me. You'd think it would have worked, but he wasn't very strong. Then again, I AM stronger than most men.

We kept cat-fighting, with me advancing forward, Nina retreating, and Malcolm pulling me back. We reached the edge of the rooftop garden, and I decided to push Nina off. Malcolm, Smartie Pants that he was, read my mind, and tried to stop me. He was getting on my nerves now, really. Man Bitch. -.-

I pushed Nina hard, and she started falling back. Malcolm left me, and tried to grab her. I heard two simultaneous shrieks as I kicked Malcolm in the back, sending him sprawling over Nina, and then down three flights to the ground.

--------

They said that their necks were broken. It was presumed that Nina had become enraged over what had happened during the Ball. She'd confronted Malcolm, he'd told her the truth, she threatened to give her life if he didn't agree to marry her, and both had toppled to their deaths. It seemed probable because Nina had tried pulling off something like this in the past, but Malcolm had managed to talk her out of it. I wonder why.

All I was relieved about was that I wasn't being blamed for their deaths.

Nash, on the other hand, blamed himself. He felt that he shouldnt have brought me to this Ball. Or left me alone with Blumenthal. Oh, well. I would let him live in remorse for long anyway.

To put it in a simpler fashion, I wouldn't let him LIVE for long anyway.

I was tired.
Not of the murders, no.
But the constant travelling sure was a pain in the arse.
I was a mess, too. Had I known I'd be performing so many acts of murderous intentions (I should've guessed, really), I'd have kept some more fancy clothing with me. The gown I was in was literally bloody. Not that I minded the blood, no. I like blood, wear it as a scar upon a soldier's chest. Gives me as much pride as that. :P
No, what I didn't like was the fact that I was in a train to Paris, and the fashion capital would really judge me for not being well dressed!
Eh, well...a damsel in distress can get her way for a lot of things, can't she? ;)

Since it was one of the off-peak trains to Paris, my booth was all mine and I was glad. Being stuck in a booth with another human being might not be the best thing for my present disposition. And I was in no mood to commit another murder after the huffy affair that was Humming Jambiya. Ugh, even now as I think about him, I am filled with the strange urge to kill him again. Because let's face it: there's nothing worse than dying twice.

I closed my eyes and started to think of the wonders of a hot bath. Ah, scented candles...flowers...the feel of the warm water touching my very soul. *shivers with glee*

It was then that the door of the booth opened and entered a disturbance in the form of a woman. A very obscenely dressed woman too. I hadn't realised that the train had stopped for a bit, but judging her by her clothes, I was pretty sure that this station was Slut-stershire.

Now, I may be all feisty and the kamasutra may describe my sexual appetite as that of a she-elephant's, but I would NEVER dress in that vulgar a fashion with my breasts highlighted in the so-obvious and not classy way, and my bum protruding out in a distressing manner. I hated her as soon as I saw her and decided that not talking to her would be the key to a rage-free journey.

But she wanted it another way, bitch that she was.

"Hello, I am Swinea Birdlust", she said, her heavy French accent reminding me of why the British hate the French.
I opened my eyes slowly, trying to give her the idea that I was fatigued enough to not want to wake up till we reached Paris.
"My name is Zxy Hemendip", I said, sounding quite drugged.
"What a lovely name!" she squealed.
I know Zxy Hemendip is a lovely name. Why is she just repeating things I know?
"Thank you, Ms. Birdlust", I tried to smile; I was trying to tell her very nicely that I was FREAKING TIRED, SO LET ME SLEEP!!

"Are you travelling to Paris for business or for pleasure?" she continued.
So, I really wasn't going to get some sleep, was I?
"For pleasure, Ms. Birdlust. I have a few cousins residing at Rue Cambon", I added. There really was my cousin brother Nash Martin at Rue Cambon.
"Lovely", she squealed again. "I am travelling for...pleasurable business."
Of course she was.
"Are you?"
"Yes...I assume you can guess what my pleasurable business is?"
I wanted to say that she looked like a harlot, so maybe that was her business too.
Apparently, I did say it.
But I was so tired, I just don't remember what rubbish I must have said.
"Oh, that is correct!" she squealed again. I didn't get it. Did she enjoy that?
Oh, right, she did call it her pleasurable business.
Dayum. What a freak.

After that rather awkward conversation, she didn't speak to me; I suppose she did manage to get the hint. A few hours later, the food cart arrived and famished as I was, I bought a croque-monsieur and settled in to read my diary. No books, no periodicals; none can match the endearing accounts of Zxy Hemendip, the Duchess of Cambridge and Countess of York. ;)

"I suppose whilst you are here you will attend the grand ball of Paris?" Swinea continued, unwrapping the food item she had bought. (It is rude to spy on others' food :P)
"Oh, yes I will", I said, adding that to my diary. "ATTEND GRAND BALL. KILL SWINEA IF SHE DOESN'T STOP TALKING"
Of course, I wasn't serious about the killing. Yet.
You just never know with me, do you? :P

"They say General Gunther is to make an appearance" she added with a wink.
Now, I had no idea who this General Gunther was, but the way she put it, I just knew that I had to get to know who this General was.
So I added another note in my diary: "GENERAL GUNTHER"

"I'm sorry, but pray, who is General Gunther?" I asked politely.
"Oh, but of course, you're English! You obviously don't visit Paris much!"
Witch.
I do too visit Paris. I had so many summer trips in Paris as a child. Just hadn't been there in recent years. What a witch! -.-

I faked a laugh and waited for her to continue.

"He is only the most remarkable member of the French regiment! I had the privilege of knowing him quite intimately last summer", she added with what seemed like a wink.
Right.
So General Gunther was a bit of a man-whore.

"How nice that must have been", I said, shifting a little in my seat.
"Oui...quite nice", she wouldn't stop beaming.
Dayum. What a freak.
Shut up, already!

I wished the train would gather speed and we'd reach Paris sooner. But thankfully, before I could lose my temper, I heard Swinea lightly snoring. What a relief that was. I stood up noiselessly and with whatever little luggage I had, got the hell out of the booth. Upon opening the door of the next booth, I found a lightly snoring man (again), his hat covering his face.
The perfect companion. Neither would he talk, nor would he want me to talk. I could peacefully delve into the adventures of Zxy Hemendip and not have anything disturb me :D

So, I did settle in and dozed off. I finally woke up when the breakfast cart showed up.
"Excuse me?" I heard a sound.
Oh, what a beautiful sound that was. Reminded me of someone I had known...but who was it?
"Madame?" said the voice.
Oh, yes, I definitely knew the voice.
"Mm?" I said, breathing lightly, clutching what I perceived to be a hat.
This couldn't be right.
I opened my eyes slowly to discover my booth companion wide awake, the sun beaming and the cart-lady smiling uncomfortably. I sat up straight and looked at the lady.
"Anything off the cart, my dear?" she asked.
"Just some tea, please", I said, clearing my throat. Then I realised that I still had the man's hat in my hand (How on earth did it get there?)
I let go of it quickly as he chuckled.
"Thank you", I said to the cart-lady and watched her depart while I straightened my gown, hiding the cleavage that I had made visible during the night.
I sniffed a little, the cool morning air getting to my head.
The man opposite me seemed quite engrossed in the paper.
That was a good thing.
I took a few moments to analyse him. He seemed rather affable. His dark brown hair stood out, compared to his extremely white skin, adorned slightly red by the cool morning air. His eyes were quite an established contrast at that: the lightest shade of brown. He was well-built, too, his shoulders quite broad. His clothes suggested affluence, as did the gold pocket watch dangling from his vest.
As I emptied the contents of the tea-pot into my cup however, I could feel his gaze on me. So I looked up and he smiled.
"You aren't from Paris", he said.
"No", I shook my head. "I am the Duchess of Cambridge and the Countess of York", I wanted to add, but resisted. I know that boasting away royal titles is cool (believe me!) but ever since I escaped home, I had to exercise more caution.
"I am from York", I added.
"Ah...I knew you were English", he said, taking a bite out of his toast.
"Did you? What gave me away?"
"Well...the English beauty has its own charm. You couldn't possibly be French with that sort of charm", he added.
Ah, so my booth companion was a smooth talker.
I chuckled.
"Well, thank you. But you aren't from Paris, either, are you?" I asked him. His accent was definitely more Midland than anyone's.
"Not originally, no. Business beckons me to Paris every so often. I won't say much about that."
"As you wish", I said with a shrug.
"So, what is it that calls YOU to Paris then, my lady?"
I liked how he didn't insist on knowing my name. There is a charm in being hit on by strangers who don't mention their names, and have no interest in finding out yours :P Back in the day, it was people like my booth companion who did that. Now, it's people you find lined up outside clubs who do that :P
And more often than not, it's a relief not knowing their names. I once had an encounter outside a club in my second life. The man was handsome, all suited up. He said he'd buy me a drink and everything (and I said no, thank you, because I didn't trust him, douche that he could be). But then he mentioned his name-and I have never been this put off in my entire life. "My name is Honey", he said. 'That's a...sweet name', I said sheepishly.
Gawd. What kind of a name is Honey? Granted, he was a Punjabi man (must kill them too, they've practically transformed England into Punjabi-land), but even the worst Punjabi names were better than his. And it was his real name, not even a pet-name sort of thing.
Anyway, I was glad that we could just talk and have nothing to do with unimportant things like "what's your name?" "where do you intend to stay?" "do notify me when you reach Mr. Martin".

We finally did reach Paris and when the train came to a final halt, he smiled, shook my hand and said, "Lovely to meet you, Madame".
"Pleasure to meet you, too", I said with a smile.
I left the booth and got out of the train, turned to wave him goodbye, but he was gone.
Damn, I wanted to know his name!
Eh, well. It was France. I'd probably meet plenty of other handsome and flirtatious gentlemen.

******

"Cousin Zxy!" Nash squealed when the maid announced my entrance.
"Cousin Nash!" I squealed back while he hugged me.
Nash Martin lived in Paris for unfathomable reasons (or I couldn't be bothered to find out why). So, it was rather convenient to find a place to stay.
"Oh, it's been so very long since I saw you! How ARE you? Oh, and...I was very sorry upon hearing about the demise of your dear mother", he added solemnly.
Oh, right...Suzanne Thomas. I hadn't thought about her in a long time. :P
I sighed, pretending to actually care about her.
"oh, have I made fresh healing wounds? I do feel so sorry!"
"Oh, no, Nash! No, we must all move on...after all, the dead have moved on. Maybe it's time we did too", I added.
"oh, I always admired your courage, Zxy", he said and wrapped me in another hug.
"I hope I am not a disturbance to you, Nash? I do feel bad about dropping in without as much a letter, but I was so distressed! So much has happened..."
"I understand, Zxy. You can stay here for as long as you wish. Come", he added, wrapping me in a massive hug again. I smiled.
"Now, we must get your business sorted. You don't have any plans whilst you are here, do you?"
"My dear Nash, I had hardly planned to come to Paris! You couldn't possibly expect me to have plans for my stay", I said.
"It's settled, then. You will attend the Autumn ball. No, I won't take no for an answer", he added before I could protest.
As if I was going to protest. :P
I lived for such things!
Balls, dressing up all fancy, being hit on by random strangers: this was life to me!
So I knew for sure that this was going to be fun :D

"Oh, and one of my dear friends is in town, too, so he will attend the ball. Everyone wants to meet him. You'll get to meet him too! He is an absolute delight, Zxy; you'd love him. General Gunther from the regiment', he added.
Oh yay.
Another General Gunther fan.
Seriously, who is this guy?

A few minutes into the animated description of General Gunther's character (his happy nature, his hilarious moods, etcetera) made Nash realise that he had to get to work. He arranged for my luggage to be transferred to one of the massive guest rooms and a hot bath.
Yes, I thought. This is going to be fun :D

******

The day of the Autumn ball finally arrived and courtesy to Nash's lady friends, I had a lovely white muslin gown made for myself. Several of Nash's male friends sent over carnations for me (well, why wouldn't they? I am perfectly charming ;) ) and they contributed towards the making of my hair accessories. Now, don't judge me. I did exploit their labour for fashion, but I also danced with each one of them and gave them credit where it was due.

I was so glad that there was a society event to be part of. It seemed like ages since I had last gone out. This was a night of grace. There was no muck involved, no filthy men, no judgmental glares, none of that rubbish. This was an elegant night.

It was when the last bit of the string segment ended that my dance partner for it, Algernon Everett, left to get us some drinks. And it was then that I caught sight of one of the most unexpected sights. It was certainly someone unexpected, but not someone I had hoped to see.
"Ms. Hemendip!" squealed Swinea Birdlust.
How nice. I stay in Paris for a week and instead of a charming gentleman, God sends over Swinea Birdlust.
How amusing, God.

"Ms. Birdlust!" I said, not quite matching her level of adrenaline.
I quickly noticed what she was wearing: well, who wouldn't? The woman was draped in a partially see-through black gown. Talk about modesty in public! :/ But I suppose that was the difference in the French society. :P
After a few minutes of chit-chat, I was glad to say goodbye to her. I did see her again later that evening with Nash. :P

It was when we were in the middle of the German music segment that the hall suddenly went silent and the quartet stopped. Everyone bowed down and by way of quiet murmurs, I understood that the regiment officers had arrived. Swinea Birdlust rearranged her dress so that more of her cleavage was visible. Gawd. THAT was too much for even the French society.

And then he entered. Who? General Gunther, of course. I was...befuddled.
He walked with the poise of an army man towards his seniors and who I understood to be the most elite of the elite class. Nash approached him too, along with Swinea. With Nash, he was quite friendly. But with Swinea, I could swear I sensed a cold look.
Oh, well. So maybe the intimacy of the summer hadn't lasted.

A while later, just as the musicians began restoring their original notes, Nash approached me with the General on one side and Swinea on the other. I was...befuddled.
Why, you ask me?
Because...of all the people I could have expected to be General Gunther, I'd have hardly expected my booth companion from Lancaster to Paris to be him.
Such was the situation.

"General Gunther, I'd like to present to you, Cousin Zxy Hemendip, Duchess of Cambridge and Countess of York. Zxy, meet Gerald Gunther", he added.
"How do you do?"
"How do you do?"
"Ah, there's Mrs. Douglas", said Nash, looking into the distance at one of his prospective business associates. "Swinea, darling, join me. I hope you two enjoy", he added, looking at me and Gerald. General Gunther.
"So we meet again", said Gerald with the familiar mischievous grin.
"Indeed we do", I said, flashing away a smile too.
"It's interesting how we both managed to hide the fact that we are...important people, don't you think?"
"Quite interesting, General. But I had heard so much about "General Gunther" that it would have been a shame not to have met you."
"I am flattered", he said, raising his glass.
Just then, the string quartet started another piece and I knew what was about to happen. Men are quite predictable :P
"Would you like to dance, Ms. Hemendip?"
"Indeed", I said, and took his arm.

It was an interesting experience, too.
"i had no idea you were related to Nash Martin", he said.
"Yes, well, he is quite a distant relation. He is the son of one of the cousin sisters of my late father."
"Do you like it in Paris?"
"Yes, very much, it's a refreshing change."
"Have you ever been to Paris before?"
"Are you always this inquisitive?" I asked with a small smile.
He chuckled. "I am a curious man. Have you been to Paris before?"
"I did have countless vacations in Paris, as a child. But I haven't been here in my recent past."
"Would you like to see the city then?"
"Well, Nash hardly ever has the time for...frivolity. Besides, I have been here for just a week, so I haven't made many close friends. I would quite detest the idea of roaming around the streets of Paris all by myself."
"I beg your pardon, Ms. Hemendip, but....i was offering myself for company", he said with a smile.
I knew that, of course.
I just liked seeing the reaction of men when I pretended like I didn't know what they meant. :P
"Oh, but I wouldn't want to be a burden...wouldn't you rather spend the time with Swinea Birdlust?"
Now why the Beelzebub would I say that? :/
"With Ms. Birdlust? I doubt she'd be as perfect as you are", he said, his voice suddenly sending shivers down my spine.
You know how some people have the alcohol effect?
He had that effect!
"Oh?" I said. Whispered, almost.
"Yes", he said, his arm now hovering over my buttocks.
I swallowed.
He was quite the smooth talker. :P

I enjoyed myself thoroughly over the remainder of the night. I was so glad to be part of the social circle again, not a social pariah anymore.
I did miss all of that what with the murders I had had to commit and the escaping from one place to another. :(

******

So, the next day, Gerald arrived promptly at lunch time and took me to one of the more elegant French restaurants.
We saw the important locations of the city from the view of a tourist and as evening approached, we settled for tea at a little pastry shop, talking about everything: from German music to the language, from the Suez Canal to the Persian market.
Later, we went to one of the concert halls to appreciate fine opera and I felt so alive after an evening out. Having intelligent conversation: I missed that!
He didn't care about my past and I didn't mention Swinea again, so that was okay. At one point, we started talking about botanical gardens.
"My father was intrigued by them. He had one made in our backyard when I was a little boy", he said.
"Oh, did he? Well, I am not quite interested in them, but I do love the greenery. My governess was rather fond of botany. She'd talk for hours on end about the wonderful gardens she visited in her travels in the West Midlands. But I do so wish to see a garden once!"
"Oh, you're welcome to see mine whenever you like. In fact, would you like to see it now?"
"Right now? I'd rather not be an imposition, you've already done so much", I chuckled.
"oh, no imposition at all! Besides, I very rarely get to spend time with people like you", he added with a grin.
I didn't know why, but something seemed wrong. Something about him. Not like Gay Grey, no. Just...something wrong.
But what could possibly go wrong?
We'd just see the garden. Probably fool around for a bit. What could go wrong? Unless...he turned out to be like Gay Grey.
Oh, don't be silly, Zxy, said a voice in my head.

So, I did say yes to his offer and within ten minutes, we were in outside his home. It was designed along the lines of brick red terracotta, and looked rather dignified and grandiose.
Not to mention, pricey.
I liked that :P
"C'est tout, Helder, Merci", hé said to his butler.

"Shall we?" he said, directing me towards the backyard.
Now, I won't lie to you. Botanical gardens are beautiful. But i am not fascinated by the details. :P
I did however appreciate how much his father seemed to care. :P

"Oh, this is beautiful", I said, looking around.
"Yes, it is", Gerald sighed.
"You're staring at me", I said with a small smile. "That's quite rude."
"Mm-hmm", he said and walked towards me. "You're beautiful."
"Am I?"
"Yes. More so than anyone I have known."
At that point, he was so close to me, it seemed pointless not to kiss him when he brought down his mouth onto mine.
And what a kiss that was :O
Head spinning. Knees weakening. Inhibitions lowering.
The equivalent of getting drunk :P

I didn't even mind when he carried me inside and did unspeakable things to me :P

If only things could've stayed that way for longer than they did *sigh*

With Jambiya, Snako, Murdoch and Patricia out of the way, I thought it was all finally over, and Id finally be able to spend the rest of the day in some semblance of sanity.

But alas, fate intervened YET again. This fate is a bitch only, I tell you. :/

As I made a sneaky exit out of the house, i ran smack into what I first thought was a ghost. When I realized that it was in fact NOT a ghost, I was just pissed and scratched the bare chested man in front of me on the shoulder, giving him scratch marks to rival those of a blood hound's. Then I stepped back to admire my handiwork and went all 'Egad'.

'i thought i'd shot you, you bitch!'

'well, you obviously didn't, Zxy, but you shot my beb!'

'Your 'beb'? YOUR 'beb'? 'Beb' is my word, and my word only, Jambiya. You have absolutely no right to use it! If you want to call your precious little sweetheart something, find your own terms of endearment! Be original. First Patricia stole my 'dude-ah', and now you AND her are stealing my 'beb'.'

'Hey! Say what you want to me, but you'd dare not open your piehole against my Patricia. I will not listen to a single word spoken against her! And now that she's dead, at least don't taint her memory'

'Huh. K.'

And then he gave me this look. This look that made him look like he was about to cry. It made me laugh, really. He looked adorable that way, like a little puppy, almost! So I thought I'd be nice, and reached out to where the blood on his shoulder was almost dripping. Big mistake, as it turns out. For him, of course. Zxy never regrets anything she does. :)

'i'm sorry about the blood. I didn't mean it...you just happened to catch me by surprise, and that's never a good thing to do with me. Here, I happen to have a kerchief on me.'

I took out my kerchief, and started dabbing at the blood on his shoulders.

'Zxy.'

'Humming. How did you know my name? :P'

'ugh! Forget it!'

'no, no. Tell me. Why the serious Zxy? Am I hurting you?'

'No, it's okay. I just wanted to ask you...you had a clear shot at me in there. Yet you missed. Quite on purpose, I believe. Why?'

'Oh, that? I was just shooting erratically. Blindly, almost. Sorry, I missed you. Want me to take another shot?' :P

'Uh, NO'

'Okay. Just checking.' :P

Then he looked down at his shoulder. And I did too. I was clutching it. His arms to be exact. The man had some muscles! Hoo, momma! He seemed to notice this too, and flexed.

I kid you not, he Flexed.

And, well, it felt good. :P

It felt even better when he pulled me into his arms, for up until then I hadn't realized that I'd been crying. For what fathomable reason, I don't know, but I had been, and he seemed to be good at comforting me.

Luckily it didn't last, for the Lord of the Flies alone knows what would have happened if it did.

The interruption came in the form of two Runners.

As they came up to us, I panicked.

Well, duh, who wouldn't have?

I'd just committed three murders, and was sorely tempted to commit a fourth, and would have gone on with it, if not for these-

"Hello, Gentlemen! How may we assist you?"

"Sir, I'm Milton Sataap, and this here is my friend and fellow Runner Nate Dementa. We were passing by and heard a couple of gunshots down here. So we decided to come investigate. Did you also happen to hear anything of the sort?"

"Well, my friends, as a matter of fact I did. This woman here, Ms.Zxy Hemendip to the world, just shot my-"

"Oh hahaha, Sirs! Look at my Lord, playing games with you Runners again! Really, Dear, you shouldn't trouble people like this. If your work here is done, we'd like very much to retire to our home, am I right, Humming?"

I gave him my dagger-eyed-agree-with-me-or-else-look.

But of course, the man just COULDN'T take a hint, could he? Smart-ass Blondie Pants. -.-

"She's lying, sirs! She's a lying-"

"Enough now! we must get home before the kids realise we're gone!"

"What the Beelzebub are you talking about, you mad woman?"

"Here, here. What's going on now? Is there something about those gunshots we should know?"

"No-"

"YES! it was her!"

An accusing finger pointing straight at me. Gawd, this guy was trouble. He'd have to die. Pronto. :/

But before him, I had to deal with dear old Milton and Nate.

"Sirs, why don't you join us inside the house?"

The look on Humming's face when I said this was PRICELESS. He probably thought I was turning myself in, but what did he know?

I gestured for him to lead the men inside, and as they all moved towards the house, I picked up the scythe I'd seen lying on the garden floor.

This was about to get fun. ;)

*******

When I got in, they were discussing authors.

No really.

Nate Dementa was saying, "Now, I don't read much, haven't read a book in years, actually, but I really think that some of the new authors aren't creating the splash the older ones did.."

"How can you say that, Nate?"

"Lies! Libel! Scandal! Blasphemy! Outrage! I refuse to endorse that, Sir! You have the authority, but I have the-"

"Hello boys! Missing me?"

"You witch! Sirs, she's here. She's the one who murdered my Patricia!'

'Say what?', asked Sataap. 'How could this pretty little Madame have killed three people? She hardly seems capable enough..'

That did it. How dare he call me 'not capable enough'? I would show him exactly how capable I really was. Of killing him. 

'uh, Mr. Dementa, sir, could I please have a moment with you in private?' I added a wink for good measure. ;)

It worked. The man looked flattered as hell. The way he looked, like a tall, plump, overgrown monkey, this was probably the first time a woman had ever winked at him...in fact, probably the first time a woman had looked at him without any sort of disdain in her eyes. Well, Gawd knows he deserved the disdain. The man 'sucked', as teenagers today are wont to say. He had no respect for women, and it was clearly evident in the next words he spoke.

'Uh, I'm flattered, Ma'am, but really, I prefer my women slimmer, and frankly, I couldn't take advantage of you without paying you for your services.'

As proven earlier, no one talks to Zxy like that and gets away with it. This man had to die. The scythe I'd brought along for Humming, which I'd decided to use to kill Sataap, was gonna be used to kill Dementa first.

Bitch only, he was.

'Uh huh.'

And then I did the only thing worth doing at that point really. 

I stabbed him with the scythe. 

*sigh*

The wave of pleasure that hit my body when I did that was comparable to the pleasures my various lovers had bestowed upon me.. ;) 

Of course, they were highly skilled at their art, but then again, as I found out a few seconds later, Dementa was skilled in his art too! The art of dying a pitiful death, that is.

His screams rent the night awake. He started crying, like a little baby. I almost felt sorry for him for a second, but then I remembered that I'm zxy. The day *i'd* feel sorry for someone would be the day I would kill myself. Like I said, zxy never regrets anything (or anyone ;)) she does. 

I cackled. :D

The other two douches stared at me dumbstruck, their mouths open in perfect 'O's. It was like someone had slapped them across the face.

Then another extraordinary (yet so unfortunate) thing happened. Milton Sataap lunged at me. He probably had a fevered brain, lunging at me, swearing like i'd done something wrong, and it was amusing at first, really. I pushed him hard, and just like that, he toppled to the ground. Flesh and flab and bone, et all.

And then it was just Humming looking at me like I was crazy. 

Because suddenly Dementa's wasn't the only blood staining the floor. Thick, beautiful, red, metallic liquid was oozing out of Sataap's head. The smell made my stomach rumble for some reason. Huh, I musta been a cannibal in another life. Eh. It was certainly acting up, now, wasn't it? :P

As I watched the blood run on the floor, a great joy engulfed me, and of all the things I could probably do at that instant, I did the one that was the least expected. I started singing. Humming, actually (whatte pun. :P), but I just felt so...powerful that I couldn't help myself...

And probably JUST to prove to me that he could be weirder than Id imagined him to be, Humming said,' you have a beautiful voice'. Not 'you bitch! You killed them both!' or 'You bitch! You're a coldhearted murderer' or even just 'You bitch!'. Nope, the man HAD to say something completely outta whack.

Not without reason, that stopped me in my tracks. 

'Excusez?'

'you have a beautiful voice. Why did you stop...humming?'

'Because you said I have a beautiful voice. What else did you expect me to do, turn into a nightingale for your benefit?'

'Er, no, no...just keep singing.'

I was shocked, for once.

Three minutes ago, this man was looking at me like I was crazy, angry at me for having murdered his Lady Love, and suddenly he was FLIRTING with me? Who the Beelzebub does that? To think I thought I was the only crazed one around here...tut, tut.. :/

'are you alright? Why are you saying such stuff? It's like you want me to kill you.'

'Oh, Pch! You can never kill me. I'm The Great Humming Jambiya. See how I escaped from the shooting bullets the last time? I carry a Jambiya on me, just in case, too.'

Really. You'd think that by now, people would have understood at least a LITTLE of my psyche to not stay stuff like this to me and still get away with it. I mean, really now. Name ONE person who Ive let go alive when they say things like this to me. One. Come on, I dare ya! :P    

Anyway, I implored Humming to show me his jambiya. Was it just me, or did the previous sentence sound so very wrong? :P

Of course, he obliged. Who wouldn't? It was Zxy, after all. ;)

With a swift, almost graceful movement, he pulled out a beautiful piece of metalwork from his shoe. It was well sigh-worthy. Shining silver, inscribed with the word Jay (probably gifted to him by Jay. ;)) in rubies, it was an ornate piece work indeed. 

I decided then that I must have it.

So, to start nicely, I was polite.

'That is beautiful. It must be priceless!'

'it is, it really is.'

'Uh huh. So can I have it?'

'What? No! Its mine! And it holds a lot of sentimental value!'

'Yeah, I can see that. Doesn't mean I can't have it.'

'of course you can't! You don't always get what you want, Zxy.'

'Ah, but that's exactly where you're wrong, Humming. zxy ALWAYS gets what she wants. No exceptions...' ;)

'..yet.'

Wow. This guy sucked. Big time. Why was I still talking to him?

Time for some action. 

Acting like the lithe little Minx I was, I grabbed the jambiya from Jambiya in one movement, and slid behind him, holding the Big, Beautiful Knife to his throat. 

He laughed uneasily.

'Hehe...now what sort of a joke is this, Zxy? I know you're short tempered, but this knife isn't a toy. Give it back this instant.'

I cackled again. 

'Give me the magic word.' ;)

'Er...you're pretty?'

'Haha..you little innocent gentleman. I know that already. Tell me something new.'

'I'm not really comfortable with the situation you've put me in, Zxy. Please stop this game. You've killed five people tonight already. Believe me, you don't want to kill any more. And if you think that you CAN actually kill me, you're wrong. I'm stronger than I look. The almost healed scratches you inflicted upon me stand as proof.' 

'Dayum. A swift talker we have here...let's make you squirm a little, shall we? See if that shuts you up?'

And then, to my utter and unending delight, I poked him. With the dagger, but still. And damn, he squirmed. It was the funniest thing ever! :P

I'd have continued, but the blood all over the floor was starting to reach my gown by now, and staining it. Really, next time, I'd make sure not to create such a mess. 

'Stop it Zxy! Please! Don't kill me! I swear I'll behave!'

'Aw honey, aw sweety! Haven't you heard? Everyone dies. What gave you the idea that zxy would allow any mortal being she comes in contact with live anymore than she intends them to? You poor baby. I wish I coulda let you live. Those shoulders on a man are hard to find these days...plus the scar's looking good on you...' ;)

And then, before I could give him the chance to try to sweet talk me into something i'd never do, I slashed his throat. And dug the dagger deep into his shoulder for good measure. 

'How could you? You...'

With those famous last words, Humming Geeves Jambiya fell to the floor. (Finally, Gawd, I know right? :P)

The sound his dead body made when it hit the ground has matched no other in the shiver it sent up my spine. For good measure, I gave him a kick in the back with my purple velvet heeled shoes. After all this horrendous man had done to me, I think I deserved this pleasure at least, if nothing else. He deserved to be with Patricia, really. They both complimented each other in a weird twisted way, almost like brother and sister, yet evidently in lust with each other, neither willing to admit it out loud. Patricia had had her reasons and reservations of course, what with Murdoch lurking, but Jambiya had made it perfectly clear to everyone that Patricia was his only queen, Shontelle be damned. ;) It was one of those things everyone knew, but conveniently pretended they didn't. What a shame. The two would have made a perfect pair.

Oh, well. If not alive, they could certainly do it in death. And both at my hands too.. *so proud!!* :D

Taking one last look at the night's handiwork, I ran away. 

I left the house, ran all the way to Humming's House on the Hill, gathered my belongings, took an oil painting of Humming as a keepsake (It turned out to be fabulous fuel later :D), and ran the hell out of town.  

Once again, I didn't know where I would go, how I would get there, or what I would do when I DID get there, but I did know that I was finally done with my past and I could now look forward into the bright red future that awaited me. 

Paris' elite English society was about to be taken by storm by Yours Truly. And this time, there was gonna be some Pyromania to go with the blood. 

*sigh* ;)

*******

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