Tell A Tale — Gothic Fiction

Acts of Terror By Roseanne Ganley

It dawned on him rather unexpectedly, that on the night of the affair, he was, in fact, being watched. Surveillance cameras studied his every move, his ulterior motives, his reasons for betraying the system.

Time was running out, he had exactly 01:00 hours to travel to London Euston, from London Stansted airport, place the bomb in its designated place (in the arrivals and departures hall) and then, his time would be up, he would be dead; he had been forced to take the role of a suicide bomber for ISIS after betraying his brother, Amid, by having an affair with his beloved wife, whom his brother often abused. It is the night of the affair, and he is waiting, waiting for Dana to arrive, and she does, sneaking around the corner of the back alley deep in the city of Glasgow, where they have been living since marrying. She takes him cautiously by the hand, glancing over her shoulders to check no one else is around, and they whisk each other away like children to check in to the hotel down the road, ready for a night of passion.

In the hotel room, in all four corners of the room are secret CCTV cameras put there by Amid early that day; but Osad does not know that he is being watched by his own brother, having sex with his own wife. The eyes of the lens’ watch them both, attentively. Dana reveals her naked body to Osad, who then proceeds to kiss her, tease her, and they both collapse onto the bed in harmony. She tries to hide the bruises on her back from the many times Amid has pushed her; Osad weeps a little at this terrible sight and then they continue to make love. Osad is overcome with sudden fears of paranoia, he reaches back for his clothes, several minutes after their passionate love making, and he leaves. Seconds later, his brother calls and now, he must pay for betraying his own.

The clock at London Euston station strikes 5:00pm, commuters hurry their way into the station, forcing their way through the crowds. Osad, is ready. He has everything in place. Security guards nearby are watching his every move, as he tenses, hovering anxiously in the central point of the arrivals hall. Can he go through with this? Can he? He possesses two selves now, one as a suicide bomber, and the other, a city man, loved by many, with a comfortable job in sales. He was not a murderer. He was being watched. Always being watched. He turns away and starts walking for the exit, knowing he can’t follow through with such an act of terror, but one of the security guards catches on, pulls him away from the crowd, and shoots him dead. His identity, faultless; Amid had still been watching him, after all this time.

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