Murder On The Express Line

Her eyes by Rose Summer Kinnear Chapter 1 – death approaches those that ask The train rumbled along at 60mph. No one spoke. In the middle of the middle carriage lay a ghostly white body covered in a blood colored blanket. She was middle aged with fair brown hair and lifeless eyes. She stared up at the pattern less ceiling. No one had seen what had happened. One moment alive and then next…death had taken her. Her name was in all the tabloids. Mademoiselle Georgia Cratia. Six people were in the room at the time of the murderous scream and deathly wail. These same six stood motionless around the body. Their eyes flickered and danced in the candle light. One of these people must have been the murderer. Not a person alerted the people running the train. Though most wanted to they were far too afraid, after all the murderer was still on the train. No one dared check how she had perished. No one dared move, nor speak. Silence haunted the carriage until a brave young man stood up to it and spoke. “Is she dead?” he whispered. He was about 21 and already was extremely wealthy. His father had been a multi-millionaire however about two weeks ago his father had passed away and the business and family fortune had been passed to him. Already making the most of this massive fortune he had boarded the train in order to ‘attend’ a business meeting although it was unlikely he’d turn up. He was well known for his lazy attitude. His name was Charles dreamer and his father had been in the stationary business like he would be now. As he spoke the ghastly words every person in the room turned their heads in a robot like fashion and glared him down as if he was anant and they owned a magnifying glass. As the youngest in the room it was expected that he would not have guessed the truth. It was a murder and no doubt about that. The next to speak was the eldest on the train. He was called sahib nana and was also very wealthy. He had been a painter who had created many famous pieces in his lifetime however at the grand old age of 75 he was heading the millionaire’s retirement community. “She seems to be motionless so I would declare her to be dead, yes” his hoarse voice ran a shudder up the very spines of the others. The words spoke of the truth and a horrid one at that. The words clung to the air for another minute as if to raise suspense that extra minute longer. The tick tock of brains working hard seemed the only sound until that too died down. Silence had returned and was most certainly not welcome. Each person was scared. In their eyes they played the countless number of ways she could have died. Some ears tried to hide the sound of the scream that was heard through the entire train before the clatter of a body to the floor. Sooner or later someone was going to have to speak and somebody chose sooner. “I’m, err, off to bed” said an untamed beast in an American accent. Her name was Sylvia Taranto and was famous all around the globe for her apparent excellent acting skills. Her voice, it is said, can be heard from many miles away. Whether this was a good thing or not was never said.

She was however an exceptional beauty. Her emerald eyes seemed mysterious and wild. Her pale white skin was as white as a dove’s feather. Her ruby red lips caress your skin as she kisses your neck. It is also been heard around that when she walks down the street all the lights flicker on and off. Truly magical. Unfortunately for Sylvia no such sightings have been recorded yet. As her slinky like body turned her wrist was caught by a man named Jack smack (his name was a joke shared among plenty) who was very young (he had only turned 20 three weeks ago) but very handsome. The Sylvia of the men some would say. Hazel eyes stared down at you with a soft expression as your heart starts to melt like butter in a pan. His sleek, brown hair tussled and turned in the wind. He was in perfect shape although he rarely went to the gym. Some would say he gets his workout in the bed department, as he played the character Casanova, sleeping with up to 10 people at any one time. Too any man he was known as there god, there hero, there model. Right now he glared down at her. It showed in his eyes what he thought but to make it clearer he spoke out loud. “Wow Sylvia I knew you were jealous of her but killing her now that was out of line” A challenge had been made at hand, a challenge excepted. “My dear sir I am tired and if no one dare speak nor move then I shall leave!” Sylvia replied with just a little bit more than a hint of sarcasm in her voice. They stood close together and their eyes flickered at each other meeting for a short moment before turning away. Sylvia licked her lips and then shone him the brightest smile jack had ever seen before attempting a second time to leave. Jack had watched this motion and decided to reply with a simple sentence. “I am also tired” the gorgeous gentlemen said with hesitation. He turned sharply and made for the door into the next carriage. He had obviously followed Sylvia to her room as everyone knew his room was the other way yet no person made a sound. A lady in her twenties stood up her camera swinging around her neck. As sharply and as quickly as jack had down she too left the room. Not long after the sound of sobbing could be heard. And for the third time that evening silence haunted the middle room of the middle carriage. Chapter 2 – striking again under a fake moon “Oh jack” Sylvia fluttered her eyelashes at him. She wore a skimpy night gown in a sparkling violet color. It swayed side to side as jack unzipped the back. The sound of unzipping was like music to jacks ears. Jack was about to embark on a dangerous mission. However the reward at the end would be truly satisfying. He kissed her neck as he pulled down her gown. She in return un- buttoned his shirt. Meanwhile the carriage next door listened to the un-pleasant sounds of sobbing and love making. Everyone left in the middle room felt uneasy and unsure how to take the situation. As the night curled over most left and went to their own rooms. After a while the whole train was quiet apart from the loud snoring and constant tussles and turns from people moving as they slept. One person however remained awake, staring up at the ceiling from the comfort of their bed.

Oddly thinking was the entire stranger did wishful thinking. The train rattled on through the night and did not stop. The air was clean and crisp outside. Sylvia would know. She stood at the back of the train breathing in the night air. Her strawberry lips closed around the end of her cigarette holder as she breathed in what she loved best. Tar. As she breathed out her body relaxed. Trees standing like soldiers whizzed past. Wispy clouds hung still in the night sky. The stars shone brightly like jewels in a flowing piece of cloth. The moon so silver it seemed fake. However Sylvia barely noticed these things. She was spending far too much time worrying. She knew if she worried too much she would get worry lines but yet she still shivered and frowned. She thought about someone dying on this very train and for once in her life she was scared. Terror gripped her for short moments causing her to grip onto the safety railing to tight consequently turning her knuckles white. She couldn’t stay on the train, she was sure to be murdered. Blowing out the rest of her cigarette smoke Sylvia turned round. In a sharp instant Sylvia’s ears picked up the sound of movement. Her eyes searched but she saw nothing. A lump in her throat had developed. She felt uncomfortable. She listened more intently but again heard nor saw anything. She turned her back to the door and stared out into the open once more. She was unaware of the creeping up of another person right behind her. Her mind was racing as she counted up the possibilities of escaping. There were none. It’s said that right before you die you recall past moments in your life. For Sylvia this was jack touching her only hours before, or her mother having her at 16, or her father encouraging her to take to the stage. These were the last thoughts of Sylvia Taranto. A tiny, miniscule zipping sound sped through the air and made abeeline towards Sylvia. It was as if something was piercing through the air. No one would have heard it and Sylvia certainly didn’t. She hit the ground just like a ton of bricks. The Murdering eyes glistened. The next part was harder: getting rid of the body. The killer moved swiftly towards her like a lion towards it’s pray and with a swoop like an eagle the killer was bent down near her neck, checking her pulse to see if she was still alive. She was not. Unsteadily the lips of this monstrous person caressed her neck as if to bite it. With one almighty heave the killer swung her matchstick body up into the arms of the murderer. ‘Bye bye Sylvia’ the killer thought ‘bye bye’ and with that the body was tossed over the side of the train. The killer watched as her body disappeared into the night along with the trees, stars and moon. Then all was quiet. The killer grinned. The sheer pleasure of ridding her and the sense of accomplishment overwhelmed the cold black heart. The grin was wider than a golden eagle’s wing and it stayed there for several seconds before the seriousness returned and the killer floated back down to reality. ‘Time to move, the killer thought, needing to get back a little place called base and as swiftly as the murderer had come he galloped back into the shadows like a gazelle. Then there was nothing. Chapter 3 – somebody’s eyes are watching

Jack opened his eyes wide and yawned. His brain ticked away as he remembered back to last night. For jack it was one of his best nights ever. The way Sylvia’s lips moved in time with his, the way her hands ran up and down him exploring every inch of his perfectly toned chest. To jack this was better than earth this was heaven and man did he love it! Jack felt on top of the world, nothing would dampen his spirit this morning. He turned his head to the left where Sylvia had been. She was not there but a clear imprint was left. His face showed a hint of confusion before he shrugged it off, grinned and decided to go look for her. He had a slight feeling of doubt in his stomach; he had enjoyed the evening but what if Sylvia had felt differently. He sighed and sat up staring at the familiar objects from the night before. The shattered wine glass where they had crashed into the room and tumbled towards it kissing passionately consequently smashing the wine bottle into millions of tiny pieces. Lying on the floor was the familiar dressing gown a gift to Sylvia from her last boyfriend who strangely disappeared a few months ago. It didn’t take her long to move on at all jack had thought the night before, but now he was glad for that. However an object shone out at jack that had not been in the room the night before. It was a journal, diary type thing and it had been left lying open on the floor. Although jack knew it was wrong he couldn’t stop his curiosity about this round silver little book dotted with neon pink and clearly written Sylvia’s diary on the front. Who wouldn’t look? After all she had left it out. Maybe it was so jack could read it? Of course jack thought nothing of this and simply scooped it up and walked back to the bed, the book clutched under his tight grasp. He smiled as he read the first line – ‘Jack was amazing last night’- and he couldn’t stop the feeling of butterflies in his stomach. He read on lapping up more of what she had written. His grin became one like the Cheshire cat from Alice in wonderland and if he continued to grin wider so much so his mouth would no longer fit his face. If anyone had looked in at that moment they would have thought him to be silly and so he placed the book face down on the page he was on and decided breakfast was first as an alarm had rung like thunder in his stomach and so he knew it was that time already. He calmly walked away from the book resisting the urge to read some more. He solemnly promised himself he would but later, not now. He pulled on some rather tattered trousers and shirt that smelt of sweat and slowly but surely made his way to the door of the apartment. He clambered over fallen objects like a drunken man and eventually reached the door that opened to nothingness. The corridor was empty and plain and very little sound was coming from it. Jack wandered - really still half asleep and not entirely sure where he was heading - down the corridor. He bumped into objects that had been left lying around, unwanted and rejected. Eventually he came to the dining cart. Only one person was in the room when he entered. Jack checked to see if Sylvia was near before making a beeline for this woman. Jacks hunting instincts kicked in, he had had Sylvia but he was hungry for more. The woman had not seen him enter but he sauntered over, and sat in the table next to her with his seat facing directly towards her. He kept his eyes low, dark, mysterious, underneath his eyelashes and watched her carefully. She wasn’t eating, she was

simply picking at her food, this showed jack a lack of ‘fun’ on this train for her. He noticed she wore a silver bracelet rather like the one Sylvia was wearing the night before. Deep in thought he accidently knocked a spoon of his table causing her to turn around. The best jack could do was grin sheepishly, pick it up and pretend to be deciding off the menu. When he looked up again he noticed she was still watching, her eyes also hungry. She looked as if she was going to speak from a moment before deciding not to. She turned back round and started to write on a napkin. Jack watched with curiosity and she stood up and walked towards his table. Only when she came nearer did jack realize she was really quite pretty. She had curly red hair, like a flame that licked at her face and bounced as she walked. It matched her personality perfectly. Her cheeks were round and she had cute freckles dotted on them. Her figure wasn’t slim, but nor was it large. Her waist was tiny and she was wearing abelt to emphasize this. As she walked nearer she spoke. “Hello there” her tone was friendly, bubbly, full of life, jack was eager for her to carry on talking. “I was wondering if I could sit here with you, I’m awfully lonely over there.” “Certainly, I don’t like to see a woman alone” jack replied, his eyes shining. He glanced down and noticed a badge pinned to her jacket. It read ‘Rose Towning’. “Rose is a pretty name” jack complimented. Her smile widened but did not touch her eyes. Jack stared into her eyes. They were coal black, almost sinister looking. Memorized jack spoke a muffled sentence. “What was that I didn’t quite catch it” rose asked a now worried look on her face. “Those eye… your eyes…” jack struggled to make any meaning of the words in his head; they were scrambled like an egg. She looked undisturbed and her smile became thinner. The frown lines increased on her face, and what was once a bubbly look now quickly became frightening. Eager to leave jack hurriedly got up. He hadn’t eaten a bite. He gawped at her, and would not pull his eyes away from her face. Jack now looked at the bigger picture; she was wearing a short mini dress which contrasted well against her very pale skin. “Listen to me” her whisper was harsh but commanding, “You’re not safe, hide yourself, and get off this train!” Her face pulled an angry, confused and sympathized look all at the same time. Jack was confused, and he daren’t not turn around, for he could not, he was hypnotized. With a sudden hissing sound jack was shoved to the floor. His hand reached out to protect his fall instinctively, and as he did he fell on a piece of glass he hadnot noticed. The blood oozed out of his hand. Frozen to the spot jack looked up, but she was not there. The room was at ease as if to have got rid of something impure and evil. “Sir, sir are you alright?” a young man appeared in uniform. He pulled out his brick like cell and called the nurse. “What is he saying?” she asked in a dull monotone. “Her eyes, her eyes” He replied, with a horrified look on his face. Jack wrapped himself in a bubble and hid from the outside world. “Her eyes” He said to himself, “Her eyes.”

Chapter 4 – heaven is a place on earth Jack found himself staring up at a dull white ceiling. His mind was a mess. He had had nothing but nightmares and found that he couldn’t sleep, and yet his eyes stayed shut. The worst thing was it was the same nightmare. He was walking alone down a dark street when he suddenly came to a dead end. A black cat walked past him and then past him again. The third time she walked past, that woman rose walked past him. Her eyes always the same blackness he has remembered them as. Her eyes like coal, like staring into the pit of hell itself, and always, always bringing down a cloak of cowardness upon him. In his twisted nightmare thought things were worse. She inched forward and forward and each time he let her come closer, but when she was a foot away he’d wake up, trying desperately not to scream. Jack checked the clock. It was almost 3am. Dripping in sweat he shifted his body sideways and glanced around the not yet familiar room. This room was plain, simple and not tastefully done. He was about to sit up when he heard voices. “How is he?” a youngish man’s voice squawked. “Not good he was showing signs of, erm, well…” Uncomfortably the other man shifted, “I think he’s crazy!” he said at last, almost muttering to himself. The other man murmured and was suddenly quite. The sound of dying footsteps was all to be heard. Jack tried desperately hard to get up but found his muscles to be rigid. They thought he was crazy! Anger flashed onto jacks face and with an effort he managed to sit up. Tears welled to his eyes. ‘Oh dear the water works had started’ he thought to himself. Quickly he bought his sleeve to his face and attempted to wipe away his sorrows and nightmares, however he found it to be quite impossible. A sudden idea flashed through his brain. Escape. Run far away. Get out of this nightmare. He knew that’s what he should do but part of him held back. ‘That’s just what she wants me to do’ he thought, ‘I can’t let her get away with this, I just can’t!’ Jack refused to let some silly woman get the better of him, but his bold face held fear. His last account with her was still fresh in his mind and it was impossible to escape those eyes. A shiver ran down Jacks spine but with his new found courage and hope he had come up with a plan. Firstly escape from this place of white, secondly run back to the train, lastly find her and demand to know what her problem is. Searching his mind he tried to find some sort of sense in this room, to discover what it really was. However a few minutes passed and nothing happened. He had no idea where he was or what he was doing here but he knew he needed to find out. Listening intently he waited until he was sure no one was around.