College students Anna and Ainsley have a final year project, an interview with twenty first century multi-billionaire businessman and entrepreneur Calvert Ghislain. An established Englishman who made his name in the top ten Forbes of America.
But w...
Ainsley heard a scream and looked back, he could not go back, hell he could barely move forward. He had his leg he was dealing with, a possessed dog on his heels and a dead woman chasing him. The swelling had gotten so bad that he had to use his shirt as some form of protection against the cuts and bruises.
"Shit."
He cursed for the tenth time, he was running out of time, he could feel it in his heart. The only thing that kept worrying him was Anna, was she okay? He had been a fool to have told her to ran off. He looked at the large obstacle in front of him, hell how was he supposed to cross it without getting his leg amputated?
For Anna.
He dipped his first foot in the sticky water, then dipped the second foot in. The earth beneath it seemed stable but he could tell it went deep at a certain point, probably in the middle. He felt irritated. The water was stagnant and smelling. It had green algae and he could practically feel the bacteria feasting on his body. For Anna. He thought again.
He had reached the middle with the water at waist level. He took a step forward but could not move. The water was too brawn to see, so he put his hand in feeling around his legs. There was a movement in the water, and he stilled himself waiting for what ever it was to move again. He felt its movement next to his leg, and he swallowed, his mind racing. He was not so good at geography, but he could bet a hundred percent that aquatic life was not present in such areas.
But he could be wrong.
A woman's head popped out of the water, it floated slowly until it bumped into him, it turned on its own and a scream escaped his lips. The full body came out and gripped him- pulling him under the water. It could not be, it could not be. He thought.
He struggled with the figure and managed to escape it despite the pain he felt through his leg. He reached the shore of the other end of the large stagnant pound. Kneeling on his hands and feet he investigated the waves of the water. All he could see was his reflection. "It must have been a mistake, could it be?"
"Ainsley?"
He turned and the woman scratched his face, leaving a large red angry mark above his right eye coming down to his nose. It could not be. He crawled back on his hands and feet; it could not be. Hannah approached the woman and hurled her away from him. He could not see what she did to the woman, as his brain was filled with so many questions, so many scenarios. How? Was it her, did she scream? He got to his feet and ran towards the house that stood suspended in darkness, not looking back.
It could not be.
It could not be Clara.
A small side door stood open, and he walked into the large compound. Footsteps came in after him. He hid behind a tree, its body feeling dry against his bare back. He held his breath and waited, nothing happened until a broken piece of glass came into his line of vision, he fell to the floor gripping a branch in the process. She came after him.
"Ainsley did you miss me? See I wore the same dress I wore on that day, that day you defiled me." The knife came at him, and he dodged it.
"I did not defile you Hannah, you knew what we were doing." She stopped and looked at him. "Really? We did?" She looked confused for a while.
"I can only remember. You barely knew me or my name and yet you raped me." She shouted, her hands swinging here and there with the glass cutting into her hand. "I waited for you, carrying your child, but you didn't come, you abandoned me." He hit her with the branch, enraging her even more.
"How would I have known you were pregnant? Did you tell me? Did you reach me out to inform me?" She stopped again and looked at him. "Ainsley would you have accepted it?"
He looked at her silently. "Would you have married me, and started a family with me? I have always wanted a family, a family with you Ainsley." He still didn't reply her, she took a step towards him. "Am I not enough for you Ainsley, I love you and I always have, do you love me?" She waited.
He looked at her and then at the house behind her, no that seemed so far. There was a small door that probably led to the back of the house, if only- "Answer me Ainsley." Anger flared up in her voice.
"Do you love me Ainsley?"
"No." The answer came out forcefully and unexpectedly. He didn't mean for it to come out harshly, he could still remember that night, it was at a school party, and they were alone in the room, he could still remember the sweet nothings he had told the thirteen-year-old. The fake words he whispered in her ears just to get under her pants. He closed his eyes and sighed.
Her hand gripped his throat, squeezing with every little movement that pushed him to the ground. She smiled a small smile, and her eyes widened. A mocking look- as she knew he was helpless and in pain. "Anna, she came in between us?" It was more of a question and not a statement.
"You let her come in between yes." She sat on him with her hand firmly around his neck, squeezing, choking. A long piece of glass flashed before his eye, she raised it up and brought it down on him. He closed his eyes waiting for the world to become black without pain- but when he opened them, he found her still holding the bloodied knife. Blood dripped from the object, but it was not his own but hers. "I am going to join us forever, with blood then I will kill her." She brought her cold hard lips to his ear.
"Look at your left Ainsley." He did just that. "He would have made a perfect kid, probably would have had the same texture of your hair." She sat up and looked him in the eye.
"I still love you, Hannah." It was a lie he was going to regret forever but it was worth it. The glass clattered to the floor.
"Hannah I still love you." He choked the words out again, she let go of his neck, but didn't move from his body. "I have, and I was so worried that you left, I thought you had forgotten me, you left, without word or contact." He raised his hand and touched her hardened cheek. "Allow me to make love to you, proper love, right here under the stars, on the cold hard earth, next to our dead son's grave." She got of from him and faced the small headstone of the grave.
While on his knees he ran his hand up and down her arm. "You have turned me on right now, and I can not seem to forget the taste of your soft lips. Even though that was a very long time ago." Gently he turned her around and laid her on the floor, before he swooped down low, he looked at the standing mirror that slowly counted down to zero.
Like he had known he did not have time.
"The soft touch of your silky skin."
Then skin pressed with skin.
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