Deja Vu

My attempt at short story writing. Hope you like it.

Lovely golden hair, striking features and an even better figure, she had everything a man could ask for, thought Steve as he greedily eyed the woman standing in the reception. Her stilettos made up for her lack of height, perhaps the only thing bereft in an otherwise perfectly curved body. But what was a blond doing in a hotel predominantly occupied by us blacks? Probably she wasn’t aware of this fact and it was just a matter of time before she checked out, he thought. Steve’s job brought him to all sorts of places and today he had a rather important consignment to deliver. A small mistake and the police would be on his heels. He brushed away all thoughts of the woman and proceeded surreptitiously to meet his client.

A few minutes later, Steve returned, a hefty roll of bills replacing the packet of cocaine, stashed in the lining of his shirt. As he waited for the elevator, he saw her again, lost in thought, walking towards him. The elevator took an eternity to reach the fifth floor. Steve entered, pushed the button to hold the doors open and waited for her. She stepped inside and looking at him, her eyes widened in fear. Immediately, she walked out, hastily and abruptly. Doesn’t want to step in with a black man eh? I will teach her a lesson, thought Steve. He followed her as she made her way towards her room and just before she could shut the door, he shoved and entered the room.

Smack! He felt an iron rod crash into his skull and then all he could see was darkness. When Steve awoke, he found himself fastened to a chair, his shirt ripped off and his money missing. She was right there, sitting on the bed, applying to her slender fingers, the final touches of nail paint. And then suddenly everything made sense. Sitting a few feet from him was Marissa. A few days before, she had made the front page of the morning papers. A serial killer on the loose, drug dealers were her prime target. How foolishly he had tossed the paper away and remarked to his buddy that a 5’3” girl was no match for a monster like him. Now he very well knew what was to follow. His body would be chopped into a million pieces and thrown down the hotel chute. After two days, all that would remain of him would be ashes.

Marissa carefully locked the door and headed towards the elevator with her newly landed booty. Just as she entered, her eyes veered toward the shirt of the man standing inside. Suddenly, she remembered that Steve’s shirt was still lying in her room. Her eyes widened in fear and she immediately stepped out, abruptly and hastily.