This action might not be possible to undo. Are you sure you want to continue?
HEADS She threw her purse towards one plush chair. The leather braided straps rather miraculously looped themselves about one arm, the mysterious contents clinked and clattered in an odd echo of the salt and peppershakers, candle holders and paper menagerie of Today’s Special that she swept from the table top with one bare arm. The clatter exploded in the hushed dining room. Shoulders cringed towards earlobes, eyes wide in fear. There was good reason for the stunned faces about the room as the dinner guests watched the woman sit heavily in the chair with the looped purse. She smiled coyly at each of them, and then exclaimed, “Hey, what’s a gal gotta do for some service?” In a far corner, the waiters poked and prodded each other until a young stallion broke away. He was blonde, terribly thin, crossed-eyed, and had a bulbous nose. “Lord have mercy, look who’s comin’, Kermit the Frog, and I do stress F-R-OG!” She said as the boy walked towards her. His over-large hands noticeably shook as he
held a pen and pad, his eyes raced from her to the nervous faces of the others silently watching him. Truly, the woman seated alone at the center table was quite lovely; though she could have afforded to lose about sixty pounds, with rich, curly chestnut hair, full lips, and smooth cheeks. Dressed in her finest black and pearls she cocked a glance around the shocked room before returning a sharp glance to Kermit. “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, son. Just that my Merve was quite a handsome fellow in his time. Course, now…” Kermit, continued to shake in his tails as he looked to the severed head lying on a plate across from the woman. It was hard to make out the features of the man, as blood covered his face, (which had also begun to soak the table cloth on that side) the stark-white plate only visible by the man’s sagging chin. “Was he?” Kermit managed to ask; his lips trembled as he noted the black revolver perched before the woman. “Saw marks around the neck aren’t exactly romantic, the bullet hole doesn’t help much either, but in his prime he was quite a looker. You know, it’s not easy cutting off a grown man’s head, course, not like I’ve done it before, was my first,” she chuckled and patted Kermit’s arm, followed by a wink. “Say, can you get me a drink?” “W-what would you like?” “Scotch, bring the bottle and an extra glass for yourself.”
This is Farpoint News at Noon live on location at The Crescent, the only four-star restaurant in the city. We have a most disturbing report, a woman, thought to be in her late-forties, is not only keeping the restaurant populace at bay with a gun but is also carrying around the severed head of a man….
Kermit returned with the bottle of Scotch and a menu. His forehead beaded with sweat, lips red as he bit and chewed. His nose had started to run as if he were on the verge of tears. “Good boy!” She seized the menu and ran glazed eyes over the specials. “Steak, well-done, potatoes-mashed, lots of butter, and applesauce.”
We have yet to learn her name or that of her apparent victim. Though authorities have confirmed two bodies at a location just south of the city. No further information is to be given until….
She ate with a satisfied smile. Even wiggled her nose from time to time at Merve, and nodded at Kermit now seated beside her. He stoically sipped at his glass of Scotch and desperately tried to keep a distance from the bloodied tablecloth. Merve – his hair matted, blue eyes pointed at the ceiling, had made various comments, through his wife, of course, going on about the weather, stocks, then to the dismal life without his beloved wife.
He seemed especially pleased that he was now free of the second brain that had so ruled his life and lavishingly introduced his wife, Kitt. Which was short for Kathryn. Merve was her soon-to-be-ex-husband, who had been in a fiasco with a voluptuous blonde named, Sally. Kitt’s fury stemmed from her own stupidity at having not been aware of the affair sooner as she mused over the trisket’s obvious desire to steal her husband’s wallet to help raise her brothel of children. After all, what could the younger woman have seen in the fading eyes of a man old enough to be her father? “I believe his exact parting words were, ‘I’d rather be alone the rest of my life than stay here with you.’” Kitt laughed and spilled some of her drink onto her lap. Kermit toasted the head before him in spirited jest. “From what I understand his little cream puff and her brood were about to milk him dry.” “No children of your own?” Kitt’s dark eyes turned vacant as the waiter swallowed hard. He looked terrified that he dared to have spoken. “No, couldn’t.” “I’m s-sorry.” “Naw, it was for the best, he would have made a lousy father anyway. I can’t imagine him being any good with hers, “ she snickered, before she repeated Kermit’s previous toast to Merve. “It was always a sore spot with him though, not having his own blood. He just forgot that it also hurt me.”
…police will confirm that the two bodies found were headless. One is female, the other male. Identities will not be announced until families are notified.
As Kermit and the patrons sat hostages in the elegant restaurant, leaning over delicacies that had cooled, bellies tight with fear and revulsion, Kitt tipped her glass around the room. She even acknowledged the red and blue lights that frolicked over the walls. “I left quite a trail behind me. Why I figured the cops would have me by the time I was on Broadway and Fifth.” Kermit chuckled. How indeed does anyone out on the street, driving by in a car, overlook a woman strolling through town with a head tucked casually beneath one arm? Kitt nodded at the dozen plus pair of eyes that watched her; agitation so evident in their stiff backs and slow swallows. “They’re waiting for the rest of my story,” she said and leaned back in the chair, her hand now toying with a linen napkin. “Merve took his things, in such a hurry to rid himself of the past, to start anew and fresh with a complete stranger. All I could do was watch, wait and hope that rationality would hit him and he’d beg my forgiveness.” Her voice caught a little at this moment, she drank heavily from her glass, which Kermit promptly refilled and motioned for her to go on. “I was sleeping on the sofa at that point, jumpin’ every time I heard a car go by, thinking it was him, returning.” Kitt caught the stares of several women about the room.
There was recognition, an understanding of her pain, in those painted eyes. “My God, the pain! I had to do something to make it stop!” She leaned in and wiggled a finger for Kermit to follow. In a husky whisper she said, “Funny, but the pain that I swore would kill me, made me more alive!” Kermit shook his head. The look on his face said he wasn’t sure what she meant as she pushed back in her seat and lifted the refilled glass to her lips. Addressing her little audience with arms spread wide, Kitt stood so as to openly note the opulence of the room. “The world is so alive when you feel real pain. Smells are twice as intense, the sky is more blue, the rain colder, thicker, wetter. And the blood! Oh, the blood is so incredibly red!” The patrons watched with growing alarm as she took the revolver in hand, juggled it with her drink, a terrifying mix. Kitt turned to a table with one voluptuous young beauty accompanied by an equally handsome man. “Do you recon he’ll stay with you once those fine hips round out and those plump tits grow long and flat?” The man balked but the woman only blinked in silent quandary. “No, he’ll be looking for a younger, sleeker stallion in a few years. After he’s knocked you around a few pegs. Busted your ego and swallowed your soul.” Kitt staggered several steps towards the front doors. Kermit reached out and sharply took hold of one of Kitt’s elbows, glancing from the glass front filled with police cars and back to her watery eyes.
“You can’t go.” “Of course not, I forgot Merve!” She withdrew from his grasp to retrieve the cold head and settle it in the crook of her arm. Kermit continued to watch her in silent bewilderment. “Oh, you want to know why I really killed him, don’t ya?” “I know why. No one else does, yet,” He eyed the revolver that was lost in the jumble of bloody head and drink glass. “You can’t go out there like this.” One corner of Kitt’s mouth turned skyward, she took a free hand and touched his cheek. “Very smart, boy.” She nudged passed him, drifting closer and closer to the front doors. There was a tinkle of bells and the slight whisper of the door as it sealed behind her. Pandemonium followed, a clatter of voices, the swell of stamping feet, voices begging, pleading, and finally demanding.
We are still live at the scene in front of the Crescent, and it appears that the woman is giving herself up…no…wait…she has a gun!
Shots filled the air.
This action might not be possible to undo. Are you sure you want to continue?
We've moved you to where you read on your other device.
Get the full title to continue reading from where you left off, or restart the preview.