No. It wasn’t that he’s obsessed, but yes he is. He sits there with hawk eyes that train on the that one thing. A red splat on a crisp clean canvas. The magnum opus that stands out; a something that doesn’t need a sign because true beauty speaks for itself. His deteriorating health is nothing, as long as he sees that person, his hunger becomes satiated. It disappears as if it wasn’t there at all. Now here he stands at a good ten meters away. Eyes seem to silently trudge (if it could) to the unsuspecting view, slowly he inched further as if a predator nearing its prey. Then he made his move. He grabbed his obsession, his precious. “What are you-?!" The sentence wasn’t finished for the sight of hetero chromatic eyes were enough to silence anyone. Possession, hunger, and dominance. There was all. "If you don’t silence yourself, I’m afraid I’ll be forced to use something other than my words." After that, he produced a pair of blade from the pocket of his slacks. Pity. That’s what he thought for himself, for he is a strong man of intuition and power. Surely no one would ever dare to think that he, a man of prowess and ultimate power, would have to stoop this low. Blue eyes silenced at that. His heterochomatic eyes bored into his precious’. Fear, submission, and ultimate confusion was radiating in the air. “Come with me," he said and the other followed. Though he deduced that she was following him because of the knife placed dangerously close to her neck. The other, saner side of his human brain was asking, "Why are you even doing this?" But he shrugged it off with a slight chuckle. God, he was out of his mind. The mere fog of his insanity, his obsession, is enough to throw his ego out of the window. He is driven by this, this powerful desire to possess the magnum opus that had been trained by his eyes for so many hours, days, and weeks. Now here is his precious, surrendering the last bastion of courage. He won. His father had always taught him that he should win. He had always known that he is a control freak, there was nothing more he loved than observing, relishing, drinking in the fact that he is superior, worthy to be bowed at. Sure he was self-centered, even he did not deny that. What he wants, he gets. Now here is the only thing that he wants, following him to his apartment complex. Yes, the thing he oh so badly wants to possess, right now in his grasp. As he arrived at the entrance of his abode, he looked at his loot and smiled. Finally, after long moments of wanting, hurting, and fantasizing, the magnum opus now in his hands. When they arrived in, his (in)sanity even mumbled an “I’m home”. His crazy smile was plastered on his face while the other person showed a blankness and a refusal to process information. He settled his precious on a chair for the person was hardly moving. “My magnum opus, finally here," he thought crazily, his heart overflowing with such joy. "I’m glad you’re here," he started. "I have a gift for you" he finished, but the other person was still in shock, mind processing the information that she had landed into an obsessed maniac’s den. Her eyes were darting about, trying to find an escape. Then she stood up but he caught her and yanked her to the nearest seat, showing her the blade as a warning. "Ah my sweet, in case you were wondering, I brought you here because I have a gift for you. See, I have observed you for so long, so long that it actually hurts," his eyes danced crazily. She was dumbstruck, for one minute she was walking home then the other, kidnapped by an obsessive maniac. Her mind is racing with so much thoughts, her body became so overwhelmed that her body shut down."My gift for you is eternal peace.”
This is the best gift I have ever thought of. What could be the best gift other than eternal peace? You see, no one can ever have you. You are too beautiful to be in this world, you are an angel. Such being is not permitted to be in the slums of the ground, where thousands of blood has been spilled. You deserve a place in the High Heavens, where the angels pour mists of calm on you. You don’t deserve to have your feet dirtied by the recess of the earth. No, I don’t deserve to be loved by you. What kind of a person am I? I am but a mere human, you complete utter perfection. Now, you must go. It saddens me but it’s for the best, for you are a magnum opus, the epitome of perfection. Sadly, the world isn’t worthy of your perfection, neither am I.
Such thoughts raced from his mind as he lifts up the blade, his eyes brimming with tears. Yet the most frightening part was through it all, he is smiling. His eyes still dancing with the crazy vigor, the thought of accomplishment, and lastly, beauty of eternal peace she was going to get.
Saline tears were falling and he thought that she looked so beautiful, so delicate, not worthy of the earth. Her body reacted to a feeling of her heart, her flesh being penetrated by an object. She screamed, then a laugh of accomplishment was heard. Then she felt it. Again and again, a sharp shooting pain until spots swam in her vision. Her last memory was but a man holding a beautiful red blade, eyes overflowing with happiness then nothing.
Enjoy my love, for you no longer carry the burdens of the world… and may I add that red looks good on you.