Fourteen - by Laseeee

Blood splatter red clashes violently with the green of her sheets.The scent hits first. Metallic. Sharp. Unavoidable. My hand hovers over the nearest pillow as I try to steady my breathing, to figure out how to make this disappear.The girl is gone, and yet not. Her body lies twisted, silent, arranged by death into something almost peaceful. I hear feet rushing and glance at the shut door, cursing myself for not locking it earlier.A knock.Then another.Should I duck? Pretend I just came in? Throw her body to the floor and act like I am rearranging the sheets? Or hide completely?It has been thirteen bodies in thirteen days.Thirteen women I crossed paths with, smiled at, touched, flirted with.Thirteen women I had loved.Thirteen women who deceived me.People have started pointing fingers. The whispers have begun. Glances that linger too long. Murmurs that follow me down hallways.I told myself it was only a two week cruise. Nothing could go wrong. No one would know I had known these women in another life.But death does not care about plans.It kept piling up. One per day. Now I count constantly in my head, calculating, hiding.When the first two bodies turned up, someone suggested tossing them overboard and letting the ocean deal with the mess.Insensitive, yes.Ideally, he should die next.But at the time I agreed. Anything was better than another body being found.So I followed the advice.I pushed her into the bed of waves and watched the water close over her like a secret.The hallway is quiet for a heartbeat, then creaks under footsteps. I freeze, every muscle taut. A hand touches the handle. My chest pounds.I shove the pillow lower and smooth the sheets, pretending my already fragile world has not tipped even further in the last ten minutes.The door opens just a crack.A voice, soft and casual, floats in.“Is everything alright, my love?”I force a laugh, the calmest sound I can manage.“Yes. Just finished cleaning up.”My eyes flick to the window. The ocean glints back at me like it knows. Like it is laughing.I look away, choosing instead to feast my eyes on the fourteenth woman standing in front of me. Raven haired. Luminous. Mine.Such beauty to behold.“Come up to the dining room then,” she whispers, batting her eyes. “The captain is already seated for dinner.”I nod quickly, anything to pull my mind away from what just happened.She walks ahead of me down the corridor, fingers brushing the polished rail, humming softly to herself. Carefree. Untouched by the weight she leaves in her wake.I follow, watching the easy rhythm of her steps, the way she moves as though nothing fragile ever breaks around her.I do love her.I really do.That is the tragedy of it.Because women like her never understand what they are given. Not the gifts chosen with care. Not the hands that learn them like sacred maps. Not even the quiet devotion that stays when the excitement fades.They always want more.Someone else.Something else.She turns suddenly and catches me staring. Her smile is bright and trusting. The kind that believes in forever.I smile back just as warmly.Of course I do.I lean forward and kiss her softly, lingering just long enough for her to feel safe.Thirteen.Such a lovely number.Too bad I love fourteen more.

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