Mahmood stepped aside to let Lord Saif enter the house. Bright sunlight followed him, which was soon cut out when the door got closed.
"Mahmood, is my aunt present?" He asked running a hand through his hair.
Mahmood nodded. "She is in the main lounge."
He escorted him there.
Does she even visit any other places of the house? Saif wondered.
He stepped into the hall. And saw his aunt staring out the window.
"Madam Amna. Lord Saif is here to see you." Mahmood cast a pleasant smile at Lord Saif before leaving the lounge.
Lady Amna did not turn around. Her eyes were fixated on the window.
"You seem to be enjoying yourself." Lord Saif teased.
"I am." She said. "The world outside always looks better when you're gazing at it from the inside. But it somehow bores you when you are actually outside."
Fine words, Lord Saif thought admiringly.
He had always favored his aunt's philosophical views. But nowadays, she was starting to sound more like Lady Rebecca.
Lord Saif's eyes fell upon the uncovered wall where his painting used to be. An expression of shock swept across his handsome face.
"Where is my painting?" He asked.
Lady Amna finally turned. A devilish grin on her face. "I decided to keep it in a safer place." She told him. "Art heists are one of the most common crimes in London at the moment."
"I-I don't understand. Didn't you like the painting?" He asked her.
She shook her head walking over to him. She gently placed a hand on his chest. "I love it. That is why I have decided to protect it."
"We should display it in a proper art gallery." He declared.
"Listen-"
He pulled away from her grasp and turned around in anger.
"I am not ashamed of your work," Amna explained. "You are taking this in the wrong way."
"Show me the painting." Lord Saif demanded.
"What?"
He finally turned around. A furious look on his chiseled face. "Show me where you've kept it."
She stepped closer to him. "Don't make me do this."
"Then we'll talk to each other in another lifetime." He started walking away from her.
"I thought you loved me."
He started stomping out of the hall. "I do. But I admired you as well. And there is a big difference between loving someone and admiring someone."
She felt that her head was about to explode.
"Okay wait!" She bellowed.
He stopped dead in his tracks.
"I shall show you the painting," She said. "Just promise me you'll not tell anyone else about it."
He turned around and nodded.
She started walking up the staircase to her left. Her nephew followed her. They made their way across the hall. She opened a door that revealed a small spiral staircase. They ascended it together.
The walls smelled old and dry. They reached the small hallway that led to the attic. Cobwebs covered most parts of the walls. She walked over to the door slowly. As if someone were inside the attic and would be awaken by their footsteps.
Lord Saif noticed his aunt revealing a key from underneath the dusty, old mat.
The door opened with a loud crack. Lord Saif followed her inside. A disgusting odor filled his nostrils. He held his nose. The smell was like that of a decaying corpse.
The attic was small. A tiny mirror lay in the middle of the room. It was slightly cracked. And on the wall was Lord Saif's painting.
He backed away raising a trembling finger at the portrait.
"What the hell is that?" He exclaimed fearfully.
"Your painting." Lady Amna replied with an evil grin.
"That is not my work." Lord Saif protested backing away from the obscenity. "Just look at it."
The face of the painting had a scar on the cheek. Its eyes looked humanlike and it smirked menacingly at the artist.
Lady Amna stepped closer to her frightened nephew whose forehead was ridden with sweat.
"You didn't draw the outside of me." Lady Amna told him. "You drew the inside of me."
"This isn't you." He protested. "You're not a monster."
"Remember when you used to ask me why I was afraid to visit the attic?" She asked raising an eyebrow. "I'll tell you. When I was little, a man broke into mansion, and tried to rape me here."
He finally looked at his aunt with shock in his eyes. "Did he-"
"No. He did not." Lady Amna interrupted. She frowned remembering the tragedy. "Mahmood pulled him away when he had gotten on top of me. He had almost undressed me. In response, I tore out one sharp piece of the broken glass from that mirror." She pointed towards it.
"My hand had hit it when I was struggling. Then I stabbed him in the stomach. He slowly fell down gazing at me with dying eyes." Lady Amna continued. "I couldn't control myself. I took out the shard from his stomach. Then stabbed him again. And again. His blood squirting on top of my face and dress. Mahmood had to pull me away."
"Does anyone else know of this?"
"No, only Mahmood was there and my parents were deceased." She explained. "My loyal servant then disposed of the body over the Lakeview Bridge and into the river."
"A real thrilling story. Now, let's reveal this painting to the world." He said turning to leave.
"I cannot let you do that."
Lord Saif turned around. "You must."
Suddenly, the painting's mouth opened. And it let out a long, desperate wail.
Saif grinned in excitement. "Wonderful. I think I had one too many before coming here."
He started walking towards the open door. Lady Amna took out a shard of glass from the mirror's crack. She steadily walked over to him, raised the sharp piece above her head with both her hands, and stabbed it into the side of her nephew's neck.
Blood oozed onto her fingers. He turned around. Gripped her shoulders. He choked blood out of his mouth and lost his balance. She dragged him gently onto the ground. His lifeless eyes stared blankly into hers.
He couldn't mutter a word as blood poured from his wound onto the wooden floor. But his shocked expression said it all. She let go of the back of his head. Tears filled her eyes.
"I'm so sorry." She sobbed.
She raised the shard above of her head. And sunk it deep inside Lord Saif's chest. He let out one last whimper and then was put to rest with his eyes wide open.
"No!" Lady Amna screamed. She wiped tears off her eyes and her face got splattered with the blood from her hands.
Then she raised the shard above her head again. And pushed it back into his chest. Blood squirted out. Onto her face. She removed the shard then plunged it inside again. A wave of red flooded her clothes.
She stabbed him again.
And again.
And again.
She pulled back her open hair. Lifting the shard of glass, she stood up. She turned around to look at the small mirror in the middle of the room. And saw her gory reflection. All of a sudden, the mirror cracked up a bit in the center.
***
That night it was pouring down. Cold raindrops flooded the streets of London. Most of the people were in their houses. Lady Amna glanced at her watch. It was exactly midnight.
She was sitting in her private horse carriage, and watched Mahmood as he lunged a suitcase over the Lakeview Bridge. This time she wanted to watch her artwork as it descended into the depth of the river. Lord Saif was just her second victim, and it had been a long time since she killed a person, but it still felt like the first time, that adrenaline rush followed by the quick relief.
***
Three days later.
Lord Saif's funeral was being held at the Ashton Cemetery. Lady Rebecca searched for her best friend in the midst of other mourning guests. The sky was completely grey. No sunlight was present. The weather was mild and the preceding rainy atmosphere had been replaced by a slight fogginess.
Rebecca's eyes fell on Lady Michelle whose face was embedded into Lady Sara's bosom. She was sobbing all over her mother's black attire.
Still no sign of Amna, Lady Rebecca thought.
A few moments later the crowd slowly started to become lesser and lesser. She bid farewell to those she knew and then entered her private carriage when a messenger arrived.
"Lady Amna has ordered me to hand you this letter personally." He told her.
She took the envelope. The postal worker adjusted his flat cap and then departed. She gazed at the envelope but didn't tear off the seal. She thought it would be better if it was read in the calmness of her bedroom.
***
Lady Rebecca sat behind the reading desk in her study. She was alone. The envelope was on the desk. She kept tapping it with her fountain pen. It had no address or name written on top of it. She finally picked it up and tore off the seal. She took out a small paper and another smaller envelope.
On the little note was written:
Dear Rebecca,
You have been more than a friend to me. You have been a mentor. The days I have spent with you I will never forget. Now, before this turns into something by the late Lord Alfred, I must get to the point. I am leaving for my village again. If you are reading this now then I have already boarded the train which shall take me to the port. This has nothing to do with Saif's death. I have already cried enough for his soul to rest in Heaven. My return is uncertain. Again, I will never forget you. Only open the other envelope if you hear of my death. It'll serve as a secret reminder of our everlasting friendship.
Yours faithfully,
Lady Amna Haider.
That last sentence did not make Lady Rebecca feel any better. She crumpled up the letter in sadness and tossed it aside. Then she stared at the other, smaller envelope but decided to keep that vow of friendship. She opened the top drawer of her reading table and placed the little brown-paper inside.
ns 15.158.61.18da2
