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Copyrights reserved by the author. If you are in doubt, please click on 'Copyrights' and read the details. Of Evil Intent continued Simon slid the envelope onto the Head's desk and quickly left the empty office. He'd deliberately waited till most of the staff had left, he didn't want to see them again that afternoon, or ever again! Loosening his collar, he made his way to the car. He hated the heat. He needed to concentrate on the task ahead. Nothing could go wrong now. Letting himself into the flat for the final time, he ate the rest of the salad left from the day before, then poured himself a small brandy. His hand shook slightly as he lifted the glass. No, he wouldn't go to pieces now and closing his eyes concentrated till the shaking stopped. Even so this time, he felt a slight unease. It would be all right. He had to believe that! Passing the darkened reception, he left his key on the desk. It was ready for the next tenant, no trace of himself left in the flat and no forwarding address. It was best like that. Parking a block away from the park entrance, he walked back along the tree-lined avenue. The night air was heavy with the threat of a storm, faint rumbles could be heard away west of the town. He felt panic threaten to rise. Closing his eyes momentarily, he breathed deeply. Leaning against the wall he unloosened a further two buttons on his shirt. He looked at the time, she was a few minutes late, making him wait; teasing him! A footfall, suddenly breaking the silence made him jump and turn quickly. She stepped out of the shadows of the entrance. Her blonde hair, caught in the light of the street lamp, shimmered, her body an outlined silhouette. "Michelle. Hi, I didn't know you were here already." He was straining his eyes to pick up her shape. As she came closer, he saw her dress was long and black, which clung to her ankles. Approaching him, slowly, almost cat-like, she tossed back her hair seductively and adjusted her shoulder bag. "Where's your car?" He turned pointing in the direction he'd come from. "I, eh, left it in a side street, didn't want to run the risk of getting a ticket." Standing close to him, she slowly slipped her arm round his. He smelt her perfume, strong with the essence of musk, pleasant but cloying he thought. Her face had a stark beauty about it, or maybe it was the lamplight. It seemed pale, almost white and her eyes, heavily outlined, were regarding him with a cool, piercing stare. She suddenly seemed like a stranger, despite her closeness. It was disturbing! Another clap of thunder, much louder, made him visibly jump. Suddenly a cold finger seemed to make its way down his spine. He mentally shook himself. Once they were in the park, away from potential interruption, it would be all right. He began leading her towards the entrance, " I thought we might take a look at the Chinese pagoda first, before we leave. It's quite beautiful at night, the water illuminated by lights." Nodding, she smiled briefly. "Why not?" Did he really think she was gullible enough to believe they were going to any poetry reading? She was conscious of his arm tightening against hers as they got closer to the fountain. Somehow, she had to release his grip and distance herself from him. "Stop a minute, I've got a stone in my shoe." She feigned a hobble and pulling away from his grip, knelt down, as if to take out the offending piece. Now, he thought, while she's vunerable, I can pin her down. He was beginning to sweat with heat and anticipation. Meanwhile as she bent over, Michelle had swiftly opened her bag and as she straigthened up, drew out a small handgun. He stood rigid, his heart pounding in his ears as if it would break out of his chest. "What ----" The words trailed off, as his mouth suddenly turned dry and his throat closed up. "Alison Craddock!" She spat out the name, violently. "Does that name ring any bells with you?" Hate burning in her eyes. His mind began racing, there had been so many. It all became a blur after a time but how did she know about him, and how had she found him? He had to do it now, if there had been any doubt, now there was none. She was becoming impatient, restless and she began moving toward him purposefully. " She was my sister. You murdered her! You used her own locket to strangle her, and now you're going to pay!" The locket! It suddenly came back to him. They had lain together out in the fields, she had been sweet, so sweet. He remembered fingering the chain, tracing its line around the delicate contours of her slender neck. A neck only he would ever kiss and caress. Gently, very gently at first he had held it in his hands. Then suddenly his grip tightened, harder and harder. She had fought to slacken his grip, her face becoming contorted, twisted and then blue. She would never belong to anyone else, none of them would. They had all belonged to him, once! He looked at Michelle slowly advancing. He'd made a horrible mistake this time. This one was different, cold, calculating, why hadn't he seen it. He was getting lapse. He began to shake inside, but his mind was racing again. He had to get the gun off her. He wasn't going to die yet! He had to play for time. " How did you find me? It's a long way from Wisconsin to Florida." He began edging towards the trees to the right of the fountain, pieces of branches lay around, remnants of the last storm. If he could knock the gun out of her hand, he'd strangle her, just like he'd done to her sister; much quieter than firing a shot. She was watching him warily, clutching the gun. Sweat began to form on her palms. She had to keep her head. He had to die! "Alison had a very good friend, Laurie Anderson, you must remember her. She came to University here. When she recognised you in one of the stores last year, she wrote and told me. You see I vowed I would find you and kill you, even though I was only 12 at the time." Michelle felt a lump rise in her throat, thinking again of her sister, lain out in the coffin. Anger and hatred re-enforced by the bitter memories. While she had been talking, Simon had edged closer to some trees and could almost reach a stout branch lying near his feet. A loud clap of thunder startled him suddenly and stumbling he grabbed hold of the trunk. The rain and the flash came together, she saw them both touch the top of the tree. The Lightening making it's splitting, hissing way down, the electricity earthing as it struck his body, a loud shriek escaping as he slumped to the ground, flames and smoke rising. She dropped the gun heavily, it thudded to the ground. Collapsing into a heap, she sobbed with relief. The body lay yards away, smouldering, blackened by the heat; still and very dead. The smell of burning flesh making her nauseous. After a while she got up and stumbling toward the fountain, she flung the gun into the water. "Goodbye, Alison", she whispered. The End.
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