Read (2005) 'Whispers In the Wind' for Free Online Page A

insignificant. The place was furnished in chrome and metal, impossibly clean and ordered. Everything was in its place, evidence of the orderly mind of the occupant and looking almost as if no one lived there, austere in its sterility. There were no prints on the walls, no flowers in vases, and the place gave a strong illusion that it was just a cold emptiness, void of any love or the warmth of a real home.
    Outside, a watery sun had shown its face briefly, only to be pushed away by the dark clouds again and the snow that still lingered. The snow was still coming down hard, which was something she loved. She didn’t care about cold or snow, jogging five miles everyday no matter what, just before going to work. Today would be different, though; today there would be no run. Today was her day; the day she was finally free from the nightmares that had haunted her every waking moment for as long as she could remember. The death of the ‘man’ was going to be cause for celebration. In the dark recesses of her mind, the human being she had killed in such cold blood was not human, was nothing, just something that had crossed her path, creating havoc with her life and now, it had paid with his.
    Now she stood as still as a Greek marble statue and just as beautiful. Her blue eyes were fixed on nothing, huge and luminescent in the semidarkness of the apartment, like a person in a trance. She had killed a man; a man that signified pain and rage for her and the emotions that it had stirred in her were incredible. She felt liberated…almost like a young girl caught in her first look at the world, her first date, her first love…her mind floating in a surreal world. There was no remorse; no feeling of sorrow for the man that she had killed, only exuberance, as she had never known it before. It had taken her fifteen years to do it, but now it was done and she felt…free, clean. Or almost clean, she thought briefly, her beautiful face etched in disgust now, as she thought about the other man, the other cop who was still out there. But she would be clean, she said to herself, the blue eyes hard and cold, the body starting to sway slightly. She laughed a mirthless laugh as her right hand tightened on the wooden handle of the axe by her side. She brought the ancient weapon to her face, the beautiful face of the axe marred by the dried blood of the man she had killed. She smelled the dry blood, nostrils flaring as she fixed her eyes on the weapon, caressing the dark, wooden handle in a most intimate way, mumbling words of endearment as her mind relived the killing one more time, feeling the wetness spreading in her loins, the increasing tempo of her breathing and the wild staccato that was her heart pounding painfully against her ribs. Her whole body seemed to be on fire and she could not recall a time in her life when emotions threatened to overwhelmed the iron control that she could exert over herself. Her breath came in small gasps as the incredible sensations coursed through her like molten lava. In all her life she had never experienced anything remotely like what she was feeling now and the moment left her trembling, wanting to hold the sensations rippling through her body forever. She took a deep breath of air, controlling her raging heart, a smile playing on the soft planes of her face now.
    She brought the ancient weapon down, sighing deeply. The axe was a special weapon for her, the one that she had chosen to use when the time came, the one that would drink the blood of the ‘bad’ people, especially the ones that had destroyed her life. This one was the weapon that would set her mind free of pain and rage and the incredible nightmares that haunted her life. She could have chosen a different one since the place where she worked had quite a few replicas of this, the real one, but as the axe had come into her care, her mind had pictured herself using it, wreaking vengeance on the ‘bad’ people. It was an ancient weapon and to her