Flash Fiction: Killer of the Diva

Flash Fiction1


The cocktail dresses the women wore must have cost fortunes. There were family heirlooms on theirs fingers and necks, sparkling like the champagne in the flutes held by beautiful manicured fingers. The men  in smart blazers were busy building contacts and talking business. There was soft music in the background. Samaira Sarin, the host of this elite party, announced that the manuscript of her new book, Killer of the Diva, was almost ready and would be out for publishing within a month. The book was a work of fiction and yet there were rumors that it was based on the dead star’s life, an incident that occurred a decade ago. People close to Samaira had dissuaded her from raking up the ghosts from the past but she had laughed it off saying, it’s just a figment of my imagination, nothing real.

Preeti Sabeer, moved forward and applauded Samaira for her success. After all, Samaira was a celebrity author and a star in the literary world. Preeti was the wife of Sabeer Arora of the Galaxy Empires. She was his trophy wife. Twelve years younger to Sabeer, she could win people just by a flick of her finger. Such was the power of her exquisite beauty. There was a strange gleam in Preeti’s eyes as she looked at Samaira who was busy chatting with the people about her latest venture.

Ilyssa Parker was also at the party. She sat in one corner of the spacious penthouse owned by Samaira at Midtown Avenue located in the plush and prestigious Platinum Hills. Her expressions were grim as she looked at Preeti.

She could feel something in the air. A niggle in her mind told her that something just wasn’t right. A divorced socialite, Ilyssa was now the owner of a luxury Spa Resort. She and Samaira were friends for almost twenty years now. She still couldn’t forget the night when their friend Sytara, the diva, was found murdered. Sytara had everything to live for. She had just announced that she was in love. Everyone at the party cheered for her. They asked her about the lucky guy but Sytara chose to be mischievously secretive citing that the newspapers shouldn’t catch the whiff of this news. She didn’t wish to have a scandal that could affect her thriving career and stardom. That party had taken place exactly ten years ago on account of Sytara’s new movie release. Those were the last few moments of Sytara’s life. She was found dead that night in the bathroom apparently poisoned to death. Nothing was ever proved and her case file was closed on account of inconclusive evidence.

Ilyssa was shaken out of the past by the sound of a scream. Everyone in the room rushed in the direction of that scream. There was Samaira Sarin sitting on the chair in her study with her head down on the desk. Her fingers were still on the flute of champagne. Someone was checking her pulse and raised her limp head to discover an incomplete manuscript.

On the cover page was typed in big bold letters, “Killer of the Diva” and it wasn’t long before the police found that some pages from the manuscript were torn off in a rather abrupt hurry.


Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.


© 2015-2017 Shilpa Niraj, All Rights Reserved.

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