Earlier that night, despite having a tolerable weather, the chemicals in Fyodor's head began rushing like hurricane Katrina, being demonstrably powerful enough to explode out of his head when he received the call.
His voice was way too husky for his age. 24 to be more precise.
Throwing his phone on the bed, Fyodor strolled to the kitchen bearing a clear image of frothy milkshake in his mind. The night was too quiet for his neighbours to appreciate the wildly annoying noise of his blending machine.
His milkshake woke the people next door, and the people next to next door.
Mr. Lorenzo came howling at his door.
And Mrs. Smith came out of her house having her face covered in olive facepack and two frowning eyebrows.
Fyodor didn't mind inviting them in. As they entered, he offered them his freshly- prepared-milkshake-clouded-by-froth.
At first, they hesitated, but when Fyodor insisted them going beyond the limits of showing kindness, Mrs. Smith was the first one to finish her's. Mr. Lorenzo became the runner up.
And the first one to die.
Mrs. Smith joined him in the party of death soon.
Fyodor experienced in isolation that his soul was saying farewell to his body leaving him cold and numb after watching them die.
How could they die so effortlessly? Thought Fyodor.....Not that he wasn't happy seeing them dead.
He was pleased.
His phone rang again, this time he didn't throw it on the bed. He kept it on the reading table which was being supported my books working as substitutes for legs.
He made it to the kitchen jumping over the corpses and poured himself a glass of milkshake, he walked to the washroom and pulled open the cabinet and let the particular bottle in his hand drop a couple of paracetamol tablets.
The tablets dissolved in the milkshake like magic.
He didn't die.
His headache did.
He chopped the dead bodies into pieces, burned them to ashes and buried the ashes in the garden.
When he went off to bed, he took the phone from the table and called back to someone
The man from the other side said,
"Well done!"
What did that man do to you?
"*He used to hit on my wife," he said.
Fyodor again asked "Why did you want your wife dead, then?
The man replied "you're the angel of death but unfortunately she fell in lover with you".
Aircey heart
©July 2017
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