THE BEAUTIFUL MINDS

CHAPTER 21

The next morning, 5:30 am....

Angela Carter's legs ached.

She was utilising every bit of energy she possessed to walk fast. It was a cloudy day and she'd set out so early that even the thick mist hadn't cleared.

Angela was striding down a beautiful avenue. It was flanked by strong wild trees on either side. The sun was partly risen and she admired its ardent golden rays peeping out through the branches.

The trees had shed their beautifully coloured leaves on the ground. Some yellow, some red, some white and some green.

Angela took in a deep breath as she finally entered the portals of Broadway metro station. She groaned looking at her watch.

It was just a couple minute walk from her house and yet it had taken her ten solid minutes to reach.

She glanced at the silhouette of her figure in the glass of one of the cars parked outside. Her butt had grown a little too plump. And maybe, that's one of the reasons why she'd gotten too sluggish.

Angela anxiously glanced at her watch one another time as she scurried inside. She was taking up an internship in the outskirts of the town and thought a metro train would be the best mode of transport to take her there on time, retaining her own piece of cheerfulness.

David had offered a car but she'd denied. Travelling long distances, confined to a solitary place would cause nausea. So, she preferred a train where the ambience would be more lively and cheerful.

The first would turn up any minute and she wondered if she was already late. Besides, her head hurt of waking up early. So, she went to grab a coffee from the automatic coffee machine.

It was then that she noticed a handful of people gathered near the tracks. They seemed stirred.

With aroused curiosity, she scurried towards them. Pushing them apart, she made her way in.

And there, lying on the tracks was a man, so cruelly battered and stabbed, that none could even make out the features of his face.

She saw the man's blood, cold and dark, running down the tracks.

Right then, a shrill cry filled the air.

A little later, at Derek's house....

Derek's grandmother was probably the smartest woman on the planet.

She is an early riser, brisk walker and had her own laughing group. Being the strong willed person she was, she often visited schools and colleges and delivered motivational speeches.

She had a thing with youngsters.

And maybe that was one of the reasons why she got along really well with her grandson.

"You hell of a lady!" Derek would say and she'd laugh. They were best friends and Derek hadn't taken any significant decision in his life without consulting her.

She was afraid of nothing.

Nothing but blood.

She believed that blood wasn't just some liquid. It is the very soul of the person itself. It has life and it's not something you mess with. For this very reason, she'd grown out to be a vegetarian.

On this cold winter morning, she'd gotten up as usual, to the rooster crowing at the sight of the sun.

She got up, stretched out her muscles and lazily pampered herself with a warm up cream. Then she got down and went to the rest room.

She couldn't sleep well the previous night because she'd kept boggling her mind with unpleasant thoughts. Off late, she'd got a feeling if Derek was involved in something bad. Something that he intentionally hid from her notice.

He refused to look at her in the eye and avoided conversing too deep. She could feel the difference and wondered why he was behaving so absurdly.

She gargled her mouth and took a shower.

Then, humming her favourite song, she meticulously dressed herself up and opened the case containing her teeth set.

Since she forgot to put on her specs, she failed to notice the colour of the liquid inside.

She put her hand in and felt something slimy and soft instead of her hard teeth set.

Bewildered, she took it out.

Her eyes widened in horror.

It was a bloody tongue.....

Freshly cut out tongue....

With a terrified scream, she rushed out of the rest room.

In the haste, she skid at the doorstep and fell headlong.

Her dim eyes fell on the back of the door.

And there, was this bloody graffiti:

HE’LL BURN IN

HELL