Luck

Chirag was your old fashioned, good natured, boy next door kinda serial killer. He would kill people and dispose off the bodies; never experimented too much. Once he tried cannibalism but didn't like the taste and had to shit a dozen times next day. So he stuck to the basics. Killing itself was satisfactory enough and no fringe benefits were desired. But the cops who arrested him never understood this.
Chiraag lived with his girl friend Deepa in a small one bedroom apartment on the nineteenth floor. For years they had been sleeping on the same bed but they had never made love. Every evening Chiraag would bring eggs ad milk and Deepa would bring the vegetables. They would cook together and talk till late, even after they had lied down to sleep and switched off the lights.
Of course there were days when one or both of them would come back late or next morning. They never discussed the details but at times they did tell each other the stories.
''They are always so sceptical about happiness. I went to this guy's place yesterday and he kept looking out of his window to see if any of my associates was waiting outside. When he found nobody he thought I am some ghost or something. He just could not believe that a random girl had turned up at his place and wanted to sleep with him. It was only when we started doing it that he calmed down.''
''When he must have woken up next day he must have thought it was some dream or a fairy.''
''Yes. You know a lot of experiences do not mean or signify anything. Even their feelings die down soon after. But some of them change your perspective of life forever.''
''And you provide these randomly chosen people this new perspective by tracking them and having sex with them.''
''Yes.''
''And you dont feel like a slut?''
''I feel like Mother Teresa.''
Both Deepa and Chiraag had day jobs too. Deepa was a primary school teacher and also taught dance. Chiraag worked at a bookstore and read comics and philosophy in free time. One day, on his way to home from work, he was arrested. Both of them knew this day would come. So they accepted it easily. Deepa started buying her eggs herself and Chiraag started waiting for his sentence.
''How do you feel after having killed some innocent person?'', Deepa had once asked.
''What do these innocent people do to you once they realize you are alone, unarmed and harmless? They hit you and rape you. Don't they? I have seen you cry and bleed.You are no fairy to them. Don't talk like them, you are not one of them. Look, I am not here to judge people or to punish them. Good or bad, innocent or evil I do not care.I just pick them randomly. And I feel relieved after killing them.''
''Why did he kill his victims?'', the detective wondered. People have a strange affinity for reasons. Reasons justify everything. Reasons make them believe that situations in which they are otherwise impotent can be controlled by them. Or maybe reasoning is all that humans are capable of, so they keep practising it. The detective finally concluded that he sold their kidneys to an illegal kidney racket. His arrest coincided with busting of one such racket. They even got someone to testify for this. Chiraag had been ready for capital punishment but this upset him. Introduction of a reason made his act a petty one. So he ran away.
He bought six eggs and a can of milk and went home. Deepa was in bed and when he started getting in she asked if they would not come back. ''They only know where I work not where I live. I'd have to look for a new place to work''