He Returns

Two: The Flight

I pull over into the temporary car park and search for a free spot. Not a lot is available, which is surprising. Finally, I find one, park, and turn the engine off. I need to leave the car in Russia, but there will be another waiting for me in NY. Blindly, I grab my suitcase that has been resting on the passenger’s seat and start walking towards the entrance. My last hour in Russia… it feels off as if I shouldn’t be leaving, but I must, I am a psychopathic murderer, not an isolated man from God knows where in Russia.

Cleaners and other passengers walk past me, freely, not aware of any danger that there could be. My eyes naturally find potential weapons: racks from the gift shop, a piece of cloth abandoned on the floor next to a green bubble gum machine. Someone behind me interrupts my thoughts screaming in Russian,’ Stop being a child and grow up!’ They clearly are not happy about being together.

My eyes go to the attention board. It reads that my plane leaves in forty minutes, which means I better hurry up. Old, peach marble stairs lead me to the departure and I wait. No police, no weird looks, it seems like the plan is working.

 I didn’t have to wait long as five minutes later, an announcement is made that the plane to the John F. Kennedy International Airport is boarding at gate six. Instinctively, I get up with a huge smile on my face and I wait again, but this time in the queue. My luggage isn’t taken away, nor do I have to pay extra money for it being too big.

About a hundred other people walk with me towards the plane and I feel like a zombie in a school corridor. From the warm, calming walls of the airport and screaming of mad Russians, to the freezing, not comforting wind, still with mad, screaming  Russians. The wind in this airport seems to be particularly strong, it even blew my heavy hood off of my head away. With shaking teeth, I can’t wait to go in and take my seat, which will be first-class, thanks to connections at the airport. Ten minutes later of slow walking, my foot is on the first step of the terrifying, swaying, metal stairs.

 It feels as if they will tip over with the 20 cramped up people on there and the maniacal speed of the wind. For a second I was thinking of backing out, going back to the subtle place where I spent 12 years of my life. I start thinking, ‘What if they will be waiting for me at the gates of the airport as soon as I land? What if she can’t be trusted and she tipped them off?’ I take another two steps, ‘Nonsense. She kept me a secret all those years. She has to be a reliable source, right?’ Someone behind me starts to push me and I notice that I can go up five more steps, so I do, and this time I pay attention, ‘cause mad Russians are nothing fun to deal with. Sometime later I finally make it to the top, and i feel a rush of warm air on my cheeks, which is something I was waiting for, for such a long time.

The seat that is reserved for me is amazing. Next to a window with no one beside me. I am given a cream, soft, leather airplane seat with holes in it for drinks that were bought at the airport.  I put my bag in the compartment above and sat down. The comfort of it is absolutely amazing. Heated up headrest, back and seat create the best experience of flying, especially if it is one of those freezing evenings, like today. Automatically, my eyes close, but about ten seconds later, a flight attendant shook my arm and said calmly, ‘ Excuse me Sir, but you have to put your seatbelt on before you go to sleep as we will be taking off now.’ and just walked off. She definitely was sexy…  for a split second, I even thought of pulling her into my lap and kissing her passionately, sticking my tongue in her mouth, and pulling her long, black hair away. She would unbutton my shirt slowly, and then I would rip her shirt apart, buttons flying everywhere and her jacket ruined. Huge breasts pop out as soon as I undo her bra and… the pilot speaks through the speaker and interrupts my fantasy. Couldn’t he wait two more minutes? That is all I needed to show her who the real king of the jungle is.

The Dream-stopper finally finished speaking and the flight attendant -Mary- came back. In a hurry, she checked my seat belt again and made sure the cabin above my head is secure. Mary and her friend were at the beginning of the path showing various life-saving instructions like where the emergency exits are, how to get to them and how to put on an oxygen mask. Even though I knew I should be listening to them, I couldn’t help myself thinking about Mary’s amazing body.  

Ten minutes have passed, I am laying on the comfortable chair and I am starting to get sleepy. Stress, planning, and meetings have been on my mind the past couple of days. Who will I visit first? What way are they going to die? Will  I go back to my old methods of seducing, kidnapping, and killing or will I have a new one? Thoughts rumble through my mind as I fall asleep peacefully and I dream about something awfully disturbing.