The Art of Murder

 By Stacey Lilian

Ever read a murder mystery and wondered how the author came up with it? Yeah, me too......

The morning sun rays sneaked in through the curtains, waking him up. Will went about his routine like any other day, brushed his teeth, took a shower, and meditated in solace. William Stilinski, a young, fair-skinned, taut-bodied, 6 feet tall man in his 30s, was an author by profession and earned enough to maintain his one-bedroom apartment in Texas. After he had relished his caramel cold coffee, he set about to do the next task of his daily routine, one that he religiously followed, writing his murder mystery. 

He sat pleasantly in his teal blue barrel-back sofa that was positioned right across his vitrine. His attention was caught by the familiar Writer’s Digest Award kept on the top shelf of the vitrine, an award he was immensely proud of and for good reason too. His hazel eyes meet the peculiar collection of objects he had arranged on the shelf below, a neon pink notebook, a pair of ebony black shoelaces, a folding wooden comb, a lighter, and much other paraphernalia. The clattering from his typewriter echoed throughout the apartment as he resumed writing his novel, 

‘the mask of pretence that covered his monstrous, malevolent and psychotic visage was off. Before she could scream, he bashed her skull with an iron mallet which made her fall, face-first onto the white marble tiles. The rustic baroque mirror hung on the wall echoed her death rattle. As she watched her arms and legs being tied up by his belt, she knew she had hit a cul-de-sac and felt her life escaping through her body as he began stuffing her mouth with her own rose printed scarf. He wasn’t content to just kill, his warped brain and sick amorality desired to witness her being tortured. Consequently, he stabbed her thrice in the abdomen, thigh, and arm each, his deranged mind feeling gratified by her muffled screams of anguish. Moreover, he took out all of her teeth with a plier and finally, crushed her trachea with his glove adorned hands. The beast made sure he didn’t leave any trail behind before he burned her corpse and threw it in the lake.’......

 

Four days had passed since Will's last entry to the novel. The news telecast spoke of yet another gruesome murder in the district. The police had recovered another burnt body near Lake Buescher; they suspected all the murders in the last month to be of one psychotic serial killer who followed the exact same pattern of kidnap, torture, and kill. The forensic report stated that the body recovered was that of a woman, likely to be in her early 20’s. She had sustained third-degree burns to her extremities, blunt force trauma to the skull, and had stab wounds all across her body. Her liver had been obliterated as a result of being stabbed by a sharp-ended weapon. Her teeth had all been plucked out ruthlessly and she had also endured bronchial rupture, which had been reported as the cause of death. 

 

As for Will, that morning was like any other, he went about his day routinely, brushed, showered, meditated, had his caramel cold coffee, and proceeded to continue writing his novel. Again, as his gaze shifted to his splendid vitrine, he took a moment to cherish his splendid collection of unique items, which was now adorned by the addition of a rose-printed scarf.

Graphics by : Greeshma