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    Unseen
    Unseen
    Unseen
    Ebook43 pages45 minutes

    Unseen

    By Kameko Murakami

    ()

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    About this ebook

    A terrible accident robbed Danaë of her life, but not by killing her. Instead, it transformed her into an angel of mercy, cursed to be unseen by the entire world, with one exception: the dying.

    Now, she is pulled by invisible threads which lead her to murders that haven't yet taken place, or accidents that are about to happen, heart attacks that are only pulse beats away, and she waits for the moment when death descends, in order to soothe and calm the terror and pain of the dying's passing into the beyond.

    The loneliness is destroying her.

    Things are about to change for Danaë, however. She's found someone who knows she exists, who can feel her presence, and wants to free her from her solitude and share his life with her.

    The only problem is that he has a habit of collecting women, and when he's done with them, he buries them in shallow graves in the desert.

    The one living person in the world who can see her, and he's a serial killer.

    Now Danaë must put herself at risk in an attempt to put an end to the madman's rampage, before he finds a way to take not only her own life, but her humanity as well.

    There are things in this world worse than loneliness.

    Like a hand over your mouth, and the cold glitter of candlelight reflected on the knife's blade aiming at your heart...

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherKameko Murakami
    Release dateMay 13, 2012
    ISBN9781476214214
    Unseen
    Author

    Kameko Murakami

    Kameko Murakami is an author and oddball who lives, works and breathes in a somewhat-haunted Victorian in San Francisco that she shares with a dog which appears out of thin air (but only when it wants to shower in her bathroom), a sometimes roommate who is fond of breaking and entering, and far too many dusty books to even bother with counting. She is the author of numerous author's bios for Smashword's Kameko Murakami Page, most of which ended up reading like postings on an internet dating website. Kameko Murakami also likes walks along the beach, making breakfast in bed and loving the same kind of obscure bands that you do. She used to date a Serbian with a handlebar mustache. She doesn't have the Serbian anymore, but she does still have his motorcycle, so there is that. When not tirelessly working on making the world a better place through the power of naps and general laziness, she sits at her antique desk, alone with her thoughts, writing by the light of a single candle, producing stories to entertain and delight, if you're into that kind of thing.

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      Book preview

      Unseen - Kameko Murakami

      UNSEEN

      Kameko Murakami

      Smashwords Edition

      Copyright © 2012 Kameko Murakami

      See and Read More at kamekomurakami.com/

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      ###

      Nobody ever notices me. I blend and I fade. I exist on the blurred edges. I’d like to say I prefer it that way, but I don’t.

      I dress for success at least, even though there isn’t really a uniform for my position. Yesterday it was a skirt and a red sweater. Today, again with a sweater, gray this time, and a scarf, black pants and black boots with a low heel. I think it’s important to maintain a professional look for what I do.

      Sometimes I miss sweatpants and torn T-shirts.

      I didn’t know why I went into the bar on the corner of Gulf and Reading. I never know why, only that I have to. So I went in, and I took a seat in the darkened corner at the front of the bar. There was a band playing in the corner opposite me, some honky-tonk musicians, cowboy hats, suits. Another typical night in Texas, I guessed.

      Who was it going to be tonight? I looked around the bar, which was only half-full, mostly thirty- and fortysomethings, hitting the scene on a Thursday night. I don’t always know right away who it’s going to be, but it’s always someone.

      Did you know that pigeons can find their way home no matter where they are taken to in the world? It’s because they have iron crystals in their beaks that allow them to sniff out the earth’s magnetic field, which leads them back every time. That’s what it’s like for me, only instead of finding my way home, I find my way to where someone is going to die. You could say I have a nose for death, I suppose.

      Two days ago, I’d ridden across three states in the passenger seat of a yellow Vokswagen bus. A young woman was driving, and she wore a striped black and white T-shirt and blue jean shorts and Doc Martens over black knee-high socks. Of course she never noticed me riding along with her, because like I said, I fade. Somewhere just east of Hallettsville, Texas, not too far from Houston, she gave up just the smallest of sighs, and crinkled her forehead like she’d just remembered that she’d left the oven on before she’d left home that morning, and then she slumped down in the driver’s seat, dead before the back of her head touched the headrest. I reached over and took hold of the wheel, guiding the van onto the shoulder as her foot fell off the pedal and we gradually slowed, then finally stalled out.

      I have no idea what killed her. Aneurysm? Heart defect? I can’t say. I’m not a coroner. I don’t know what’s going to get them, I only know that something will.

      Sometimes they do see me, there at the end, and that’s why I’m particular about what I wear, really. If they are allowed a vision of me, if I’m to be the one that is there to witness them, to be something spiritual and mystical for them, then I don’t think I should be there in dirty jeans and an old mustard-stained Yankees sweatshirt. I need to show a

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