Blind date

Sarah set her GPS to Woodlane County in the Western Groves. She had never been to that area before, but then again, she had never even gone out with a random person before.

It had all begun when her friend had suggested Sarah to make an id on a new social dating site. At first, Sarah had taken it lightly but eventually, she began taking interest in the different messages she received.

All of the members of that dating app who had shown interest in her had been, either too old or too creepy. This one guy, however, caught her eye and Sarah decided to message him. Given that the guy was good looking, Sarah had assumed that she was not going to get a reply.

She was pleasantly surprised when Blake had messaged back. It had been one month since and not a day had gone by where they didn't talk over text. Sarah found him interesting and his good looks proved to be the icing on the cake. Owing to Sarah's introvert nature it took her two months to set her mind to go on a date with a guy she had never met before.

Now that she was turning the corner towards his house, she began to realize that she did not know him all too well. Sure, she knew what his favourite color was and what band he listened to, but did she really know what kind of man he was?

As if her mind was looking for evidence to support her unease, she realized she was looking at stock of plastic wrapping and duct tape lying on the sidewalk of the driveway to his house.

Panic hit her as she realized what was going to happen but was her panic really justified? Was it paranoia destroying the beautiful relationship that she had built online? Sarah knew that she would never be able to meet him again if not that day. Taking a deep breath, Sarah got out of the car and headed towards the apparent empty house; she thanked God that he was not standing there to greet her otherwise, he would have seen her in that condition.

Despite herself, she went to the window nearby and checked to see if there was anyone inside. Sarah felt her legs weaken as she saw a set of knives and straps laid on the table in the room inside surrounded by pictures of mutilated corpses.

Swallowing hard, Sarah ran back to her car and fumbled with the key until the car was in ignition again. Fate had been on her side this time, but she needed to get out of that place as fast as she could.

As Sarah hysterically pulled the car from his driveway, she saw a fash in her rearview mirror as the sun hit the mirror. For a second, she could have sworn she saw something move behind her, but she did not have the time to think. She hurried the car out of the lane and down the mainstreet as her eyes fell on the rearview mirror again.

The grey eyes that stared back at her from the backseat were quite similar to the one she had seen in the picture online; the blade, however, was nowhere on the profile page.        

Bruce

Daniel shifted in his makeshift bed once more. Surely, Bruce had been lying about the restricted section of the camping area, otherwise, their parents would have never agreed for them to spend the night there.

Although Daniel knew that Bruce had been messing with him when he had narrated the story of the wolf child who haunted the woods, Daniel could not help but wonder if the story was true. After all, these woods had been famous for a lot of supernatural activity that no one could account for.

Daniel was not a superstitious person, but he was very curious about the restricted section of the camping site. When he could no longer concentrate on any activities arranged by the management, Daniel decided it was time to visit the site in question.

The details of Bruce’s story were both disturbing and intriguing. There lay a part of the jungle which the government had restricted where the camping site once had extended. Rumors had it that a man had hung himself along with his children just to take revenge against the campsite owner who had taken their land without their consent.

To this day their bodies hung in the restricted area along with other dark objects like goat’s bones and filthy pieces of flesh which had gone dark and rotten. Daniel was already feeling a little nervous by the time night fell but he was determined to see the place himself for once. He had to know if Bruce was telling the truth or not.

At two in the morning sharp, Daniel grabbed his torch and followed the directions he had downloaded from a map online to find his way to the restricted section of the campsite. Unlike the advertisement, the place was not restricted at all and there was no secure boundaries around the rusty signboard which hung lopsidedly and read beware.

Daniel opened the creaky door to enter the other side of the camp but there were no signs of any supernatural activity so far. Daniel continued to walk for at least ten minutes before he heard animals hooting around him. He was not even sure if it was an own or a raven who had scared his heart out of his chest; he just knew that it was time to head back.

Just as Daniel was heading back, he collided into something soft and squishy only to find a wolf hanging from the tree. Daniel screamed and ran fast as he could but he could not miss the words shining in blood on one of the trees; it was his name.

Daniel could not breath properly now. At this point, he just wanted to go home away from all this. He was feeling sick from the disgusting image which had carved in his mind but then he saw something move. Daniel may have been panicking but he could not mistake the obvious silhouette of Bruce retreating from the scene.

At once, Daniel realized that Bruce must have set him up. Struggling his way through the bushes and the heavy woods, Daniel came back looking for Bruce. He must be close by, thought Daniel, after all, he had just seen him.

The teacher had been waiting with his arms crossed. He looked livid with Daniel as he had broken the rules.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked.

“Sir, whatever Bruce has told you, he is lying!” explained Daniel.

“What are you talking about? Who is Bruce?”

“Bruce Baldwin is lying!”

“Son,” said the teacher, “Bruce Baldwin never came to this trip. He got sick and canceled at the last moment.”

Chapter 1

He shivered and shuddered in a dark corner of the room as he waited for the man in the black coat to appear again. His vision was blurred and his eyes were infected with God knows how many diseases. The palm of his hands was now pale and his nails were unkempt and dirty. Despite the yellowing of the eyes and the partial blindness, the man had now learnt to recognize the man who came into that basement every day. Harold did not know who that man was or why he was keeping him there, but these repeated visitations were very painful for him.

Harold hated the fact that he never remembered the last session. The only thing he would remember would be the dread of the heavy metallic door opening and the creaking of its rusty hinges. The sequence would then follow a loud thud of the same door which clearly indicated that the man was not afraid of anyone hearing him. This led Harold to believe that they were some place far away from human civilization. Were they perhaps in the desert? Was he captured at the top of the hills or in the middle of the forest? Was any of it even real?

Harold would sometimes hear other people around him too but he could never see their faces. Maybe they were captured and kept in such a position that they were not visible to Harold, or maybe they did not have faces at all. Harold scratched his lice infested hair with his broken nails as he tried to figure out why he hadn’t seen proper sunlight in about the last few months.

Harold was still trying to open the rope around his wrists, trying to peep at the other prisoners when the door opened again. At this point, it was not even what happened after the door opened that truly terrified Harold, rather it was the anticipation that gave him panic attacks. Harold peed himself in the clothes he had been wearing for weeks. The man was back again.

Although the same routine happened every day, Harold could never remember the face of the man. He would remember his long black coat and the golden cuff-links on his sleeves, he could remember his crisp and aged voice but he did not remember his face. Maybe the experience was so traumatic that his mind had blocked all the horrible stuff behind shut doors.

Fortunately for Harold, it was not his turn to be tortured today. Ah yes, he was beginning to remember everything that happened to him day after day. Now that he knew, he wished he hadn’t thought so much about it. Forgetfulness was such bliss but only till you knew what you were forgetting. He tried to cover his ears with his tied hands but only ear could be covered.

It was a small inconvenience, however, as no amount of covering could have prevented the painful and agonizing screams of Harold’s neighbor as they echoed against the walls of the empty building. The man was not hesitating so even the screams were not heard by the people outside. Were there any people outside the building?

All these thoughts made Harold pull his hair and claw his eyes. There was no hope left. There was nothing left. His body started to shut down again to block the trauma that was beginning to start. On the one hand, he wanted to endure it to find the answers to his questions. On the other hand, he just wanted to die and wanted to never feel again.

Before his brain could shut completely, another person came down the stairs. Harold blinked hard to see who this man was. His brain was hurting from lack of sleep and nutrition, but he wanted to know who this man was. He had never seen this man in the basement before. The routine of his torturer was changing which meant there was some disturbance outside the house.

Instantly, all the hopelessness turned into a series of hopeful thoughts. He tried to hear what they were saying but the torturer soon started shouting so loudly that all the strain became unimportant.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU SAYING?!” asked the man grabbing the collar of the newbie, “I SPECIFICALLY ASKED YOU TO KEEP HIM AWAY!”

“I had no choice... I sent five of them!” said the man who was now shivering.

In horror, Harold saw the torturer grabbing the man by his collar and throwing him on the ground. The man kept begging and screaming for mercy but the torturer was deaf to his pleas. He fumbled his pockets and started opening Harold’s cell. Harold was both shocked and scared at this turn of events. What was happening?

“Please, I beg you not to lock me here! There is no demon inside me!” said the man as he resisted being thrown in the same cell as Harold.

“You brought this on yourself,” said the man outside the cell as he locked the door again, “You will suffer for what you have done!”

“They would know that I am telling the truth,” said Harold’s cell partner, “They would know that you framed me! I am neither mad nor possessed.”

Harold’s heart started racing all of a sudden. What did he mean by the fact that he was neither possessed nor mad? Was Harold possessed or mad? Is that what this place was? A place where they kept the insane people?

The man was now terribly close to the new prisoner. His face was so close to the cell that his nose was inside the cell. He talked in a clear carrying whisper and his eyes were dead still.

“Oh, honey,” he said staring right in the prisoner’s eyes, “even if you are not mad now, you will after a few weeks. That is the beauty of this place.”

And then the man left the basement, leaving in his wake two very scared people in the same cell.

Chapter 2

Randy Drummond got out of the train to feel the fresh mist of the countryside hit him in the face. Although Randy felt a little chilled, he pleasantly welcomed the cold. His pale face stood out in the healthy faces and plump figures running about at the train station. Their clothes were much warmer than his and their cheeks were glowing differently.

The small village of Bluecastle was a beautiful place to look at. Although the place did not have a great infrastructure, there was still a lot to do at this village. The mist abated a little as beautiful golden rays of sun fell on the meadows. The train station was close to the general market where people in heavy fur coats were selling various food items. Randy walked up to a counter and bought a pack of peanuts.

His health had been deteriorating ever since the incident at the Graveside. Randy should have never over-used his powers the way he did but he had no choice. Randall had experienced many downfalls in his life but the last one had left him for dead. He looked around the place to look for directions to a motel or some cheap place to stay but the people were skeptic of talking to a stranger.

Randall walked past a coffee shop- maybe the only one in town and saw his own reflection. His face was paler than the snow fallen on the mountains in the background and there was a permanent black mark under his nose. As was his habit, Randal tried to prick that mark with his nail one more time but it only resulted in making his nose bleed.

He dabbed his nose with his sleeve in order to stem the flow of blood. The doctor, if he could be called that, had warned him about touching the wound again and again but Randall was getting conscious about his appearance in the new town. While he had been looking for someone to guide him before, now, he just walked really fast to one corner so that no one would notice him bleeding.

Randy got the impression that this village was a strange one. No one was looking at the other person and even in the market place, people were avoiding eye contact. Superstitious as Randy was, he started imagining this place to be as bad for him as the last one was. He was still thinking of taking the first train out of the place when someone called him out from behind.

Randy jumped and backed off a few paces as a homeless man came closer to him.

“Who the hell are you?” asked Randall as he raised his fists in order to fight.

“Relax, man!” said the other fellow, “Your nose is bleeding!”

“I know, got in a fight,” Randy lied.

The stranger observed the stuff Randy was carrying and offered his help.

“New to the town?” asked the homeless man, “My name is Brad.”

Randy took the proffered hand but he still kept his distance.

“My name is Randall; I am new to this town.”

“Ah!” said Brad, “I could tell.”

“So, where can I find a place to live around here?” asked Randall as he looked around the alley.

“Certainly not in this rundown alley,” said Brad pointing to the other slums that people had set up in that narrow alley.”

“Ha-ha!” said Randy, “Can you help me?”

“Of course,” said the man as he led him outside the alley and out in the open.

Now that Randy was walking along with Brad, everyone was looking at him. Randall did not want to associate himself with the homeless kind on the streets of Bluecastle but he was the only person Randy had talked to yet.

Brad took Randy to the top of the hill and after a good ten minutes’ walk in the light snow; they reached a beautiful built mansion. The antiquity of the castle made it beautiful but melancholic at the same time.

“What is this place?” asked Randy from his new made companion.

“This is the best hotel you are going to find in this region,” he explained, “The village is not very rich in the materialistic sense of the word.”

“That is okay,” said Randall, “I have come here to get away from all the city life.”

“Come on,” said Brad, “Let me introduce you to everyone inside.

They went inside and Randall took a deep breath. The place was stunning to say the least. The entire structure and the furniture were gothic in style. The carpet was a dull shade of red and green reminding Randall of an impressionist painting. There were huge pillars on each corner of the main hall and various murals were drawn on the walls.

Brad looked at his new made friend and smiled.

“Ah, my friend,” he said, “This is just one of the beautiful heirlooms around here! There is so much more to see!”

Randall nodded at his partner as they approached the counter. The man behind the counter was gaunt to say the least. He had heavy dark circles around his puffed up eyes and his hair were thinning on one side. Randall observed the hands of the man and was reminded of something from his childhood; he just couldn’t recall what it was that he was reminded of.

Brad cleared his throat loudly and Randall was back from his reverie.

“This is Mr. Bishop, Randy,” said Brad, “He is the manager for this hotel.”

Randall shook Mr. Bishop’s hand briefly and felt a chill run down his spine.

“The little boy will show you your room,” he said curtly and a pale teenager appeared from behind the counter to Randall’s side.

Randall helped the boy carry the luggage up to his room after which he came downstairs again to bid Brad goodbye. There was a certain air of disappointment in Brad’s eyes but Randal could not figure out why. He hurried back to his room, locked the door and jumped straight into the bed.

He lay there with his shoes on as the light turned into darkness outside the windows and the depression replaced the cheerful mood of the village called the Bluecastle.

Chapter 3

When Randy woke up again, his body felt stiff and numb. He had forgotten to ask the boy to light the fireplace in his room and he had been so tired that he had gone to sleep straight away. The entire bed was damp and soggy and even the sweat inside his socks was freezing.

With much effort, Randall got up from the bed and started opening the door of his room with his numb hands. It was hard to even flex his fingers and although Randy had not thought it to be possible, his hand was paler than before. At least now, he could blame it on the cold unlike his days in the desert where people would be suspicious of his pale color.

At long last, the door opened and Randall hurried to the counter. As Randall saw the time on the center piece of the lobby, he realized that it was still very early for anyone else to be awake. The boy, who had helped him the day before, however, was loitering in one corner freezing to death.

“Hey, you!” said Randall but the boy was trying to avoid interaction.

“Excuse me,” said Randy as he walked towards him and touched his shoulder, “I need your help.”

“Can you please come after a while?” asked the boy, “My leg is frozen and I cannot move.”

“How about I carry you upstairs and you can tell me how to light up my fireplace?” asked Randy.

“Sir, I would come in a few minutes, please,” he said, “Please, don’t tell Mr. Bishop.”

“I will not,” but you need to tell me where the food is at least, so that I can make a cup of coffee.”

“Right down this corridor, take a left and that is the kitchen,” said the boy, “The old lady will take your order and give you something to eat.”

“What is your name?” asked Randall, taking pity on the boy.

“Will you tell Mr. Bishop?” asked the boy in horror.

“No, I will not tell your boss anything.”

“My name is Sergei.”

Randall nodded and made his way to the kitchen. The hotel was not centrally heated and because of that it was very hard to stand in the main lounge for more than a few minutes. Randy wondered how the boy worked in such circumstances but before he could reach a conclusion, the kitchen had arrived.

Unlike the main lounge, the kitchen was very warm and cozy. An old lady was stewing something in a pot as she wore many layers of clothing to protect herself from the cold. It was a spacious kitchen and the cutlery was also Victorian in style. There were huge windows on the sides of the kitchen but they were hidden by equally huge and thick curtains which were red in color. The heavy covering along with the lack of sunlight made the place look very dim and dull; maybe it looked better when the sun was up and shining.

Randall ordered his breakfast of two eggs and bacons with a big strong cup of coffee. Randall asked the lady if she knew how to light the fireplace but instead of answering his question, the lady put on yet another coat and left the kitchen. This worried Randy as he did not want to put Sergei in trouble but his hands were a little tied.

When Randy went out to go look for the woman, he saw Sergei still stuck to the same spot. By this time, his lips were going purple and he was beginning to have hypothermia. Randall grabbed his own cup of coffee and the bacons and gave it to Sergei who readily accepted the gift and drank the coffee in one go. The bacons he saved for later and instantly, his pale cheeks starting showing some color. He grabbed the dishes from his and went to keep them back in the kitchen.

He was still in the process when the lady came back again and informed him that she had lit the fireplace for him.

“Thank you, very much,” said Randall, “What is your good name?”

“You can call me Lady Agatha. Please don’t tell Mr. Bishop that I was the one who lit the fire and not Sergei.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Randall, “And by the way, can I get another place of eggs and bacon and coffee on the side?”

“Of course, sir,” said the lady as she prepared the breakfast.

Randall grabbed his tray and carried it outside until he had spotted Sergei. He wanted to ask him to come to his room but now Mr. Bishop was up. Sergei was standing with his hands together in front of his boss as the boss shouted insults at him in his own language.

“Um, excuse me,” said Randy to interrupt them, “Can I have Sergei for a moment because I can’t carry this tray full of breakfast up my room.”

“Of course, sir,” said Mr. Bishop, then he turned to the boy and said, “I want you back in less than one minute!”

“Actually,” said Randall, “I have some other work for him too.”

Randy could see that Mr. Bishop was rattled but since Randy was a paying guest, he could not argue with him. He simply nodded and Sergei took the tray up to his place.

Once they were inside the room, Randy locked the door and turned to Sergei.

“The breakfast is for you,” he said, “Eat up by the fire.”

“This is too much, sir,” said Sergei in embarrassment.

“Oh don’t worry,” said Randy, “I want something in exchange.”

The boy got scared and began saying something but Randy cut him before he could utter a word, “Don’t worry, I just need information.”

“Information about what?” asked Sergei as he bit his nails nervously.

“Sit.”

Sergei did as he was told. The warmth from the fireplace felt like heaven and the coffee helped the boy get more confidence.

“What are you interested in?” asked Sergei again.

“I want you to tell me everything about the people in this village,” said Randall, “Anything and everything out of the ordinary.”

Chapter 4

Ever since the man had come to his cell, Harold had not been sleeping well. It was one thing, to not know what was happening, but to be constantly alert of the man who lived in the same cell was exhausting. There was not even enough space in the cell that he could comfortably distance himself from the other man. If Harold was to believe his memory, this man was an accomplice of the torturer in question. This meant that Harold was not safe from this man.

It was that time of the day again. Harold’s brain was itching and his eyes felt as if they were going to fall down. Harold wanted to have a big glass of water but ever since the man had gone a day ago, there was no sign of him. The other prisoners were screaming and yelling their own grieves. Harold knew that most of the people were mad in the prison but not all of them.

Whoever was responsible for the creation of this place must have been misusing it for his gain. Harold could not think straight anymore. His throat felt like a thousand needles were attacking it and his nose was producing brownish mucus. Scared of his companion, Harold asked for help in a shaky voice.

His voice did not carry above the racket that the other prisoners were producing. It was on his third time that the man heard him. He instantly jumped to one side and started finding something in his coat. Harold lay there in a corner, unable to speak or to act anymore; he just wanted a glass of water. Now that his sight was slightly better, Harold looked closely at the man who was holding a cross in front of him.

“What?!” asked Harold, “Are you crazy?”

“By the will of God…” he started chanting.

“Hey! Wait!” said Harold, “I am not possessed!”

“Nice try! This is a place for possessed people!” said the man, “How do I know you are not one!”

“I just want a glass of water,” said Harold, “Why don’t you give me some holy water so you can be sure about me?”

The man hesitated a little but then went close to the bars of the cell. He then extended one hand out of the bars and grabbed a bottle of water lying in a pile near their cell.

“I am going to be in a lot of trouble if my boss saw me do this,” said the man as he tossed the bottle to Harold. “Maybe I should convert this into holy water.”

“Just give me one sip and after that you can do what you like.”

The man kicked the bottle once more so that it stopped directly in front of Harold. He drank greedily from the bottle until there was nothing left.

The man was now looking at him in pity.

“My name is Harold,” said Harold as he closed his eyes; his head was bursting with pain.

“My name is Stan and I had no idea how Cullen had been misusing his power.”

“Where are we?” asked Harold, if his head could just stop pounding so hard.

“We are in Bluecastle.”

“Where is that?” asked Harold in confusion, “How far away are we from the city?”

“That is not something you should be concerned about,” said Stan, “You must be in here for a reason.”

“Oh, yeah!” said Harold, “What reason are you here for?”

Stan thought long and hard about the situation and realized that it was a possibility that Cullen had been imprisoning other innocent people like him. He came close to Harold to see if he was really mad or possessed but Harold looked normal to him.

Of course, no one living in that basement for very long could be completely normal. There were bound to be some diseases owing to the lack of sunlight, food and a healthy environment. He wanted to help this guy named Harold but he was not sure about him.

“What do you want from me, aside from the water that we stole?” asked Stan.

“Now, you know that the man would return, right?” asked Harold.

“I don’t know that!”

“If you didn’t know that why were you so scared of giving me that water bottle?”

“Suppose, he comes back?”

“Yes, suppose he comes back, I would need your help with something.”

“What do you need my help with?” asked Stan, “I am imprisoned just like you.”

“You are the only one not sedated at the moment.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” asked Stan.

“When that man comes again, I want you to help me fight him.”

“How the hell are we going to do that from in here?” asked Stan, taken aback at Harold’s idea.

“You leave that up to me,” said Harold, “I just want you to grab the keys from his coat when we are fighting.”

“YOU WOULD BE FIGHTING WITH CULLEN MENDOZA?!” shouted Stan, “Do you even know who he is?”

“Look, no one outside these walls would know you grabbed the keys,” said Harold, “Just do this one thing for us, for yourself even if you want to live any longer.”

“He will let me out if I behave right; I made a mistake letting a man in this town when I had been ordered not to.”

“Regardless of why you are here,” said Harold, “We need to get the hell out of here!”

Stan took a deep breath and eyed Harold for a long while. He paced the little space in the cell and thought about his proposal.

By the time they woke up the next day, Stan had made up his mind.

Chapter 5

It was almost two days since Cullen had left them locked in the basement. The prisoners of that gloomy basement were severely dehydrated and starving to death. Even with the water that Stan could have reached from behind the bars; they were still not hydrated.

Chapter 1

Fraser: I can’t believe we are getting engaged.

Dahlia: Yes, neither can I.

Fraser: This is like a wild dream come true; I never thought my dreams would be fulfilled in this way.

Dahlia: Well, everything happens for a reason. For me, I needed the calm at the house.

Fraser: What do you mean? I thought your folks were great with you.

Dahlia: They are great with me but these days they are fighting with each other.

Fraser: I hope this marriage is

not breaking your family apart.

Dahlia: It is not. In fact, you are the only thing they all agree to.

Fraser: What are they fighting about? If they are fighting over the expenditure I can help.

Dahlia: I wish it was only that. Things have been torn ever since Nick disappeared.

Fraser: He has not returned your calls yet?

Dahlia: No, and I am so upset that the last time I talked to him, we were fighting.

Fraser: This is not something I would want you to think so close to the wedding. Think about all the good stuff.

Dahlia: I mean I know he never approved of you but what was I supposed to do? Leave the love of my life because my brother was a jerk?

Fraser: This is not your fault. I am sure that your brother would agree too.

Dahlia: No, this is entirely my fault. My poor brother did not have anyone else to rely on.

Fraser: What are you talking about? Your brother changed girlfriends every week. | What is done is done, now you must get on to planning that secret getaway with your girls.

Dahlia: How do you know about all that?

Fraser: You told me about it weeks ago.

Dahlia: Oh, you remember even the slightest things I say.

Fraser: All because I love you. Now straighten your face and give me a smile.

Dahlia: You know I could have prevented him from becoming what he did.

Fraser: How many times do I have to tell you that this is not your fault?

Dahlia: You know, he was so good to me as a child.

Fraser: Okay, that is it. If that is all you want to talk about, I am out of here.

Dahlia: What do you want to talk about?

Fraser: There are a million things I would like to talk about. We are getting married, for heaven’s sake.

Dahlia: Okay, fine! Would you like to talk about my wedding dress when I have purchased it over the existence of my brother?

Photo of a yellowing wedding dress

Fraser: Your brother was not a good man.

Dahlia:  How would you know that? You have never met him.

Fraser: All I am saying is that I remember how he used to scare you and keep you away from being happy.

Dahlia: Are you going to hold me accountable for what I might have said in a fit of rage?

Fraser: This is clearly not working. You need a moment to yourself and I will give it to you. See you soon.

Dahlia: Okay, bye! God, I did not know you hated him so much.

Fraser: I just did not like you crying because of him.

Dahlia: Well, congratulations, now I am crying because of you.

Chapter 2

Fraser: Hey! How are you?

Dahlia: I am fine! Listen, I am sorry about the other night.

Fraser: It is okay, you know I love you. | Well, at least, you apologize.

Dahlia: I was just so angry at the killer of my brother.

Fraser: Oh, so you are still angry at him.

Dahlia: Do you know if it was a man?

Fraser: How would I know about him? I barely knew the guy.

Dahlia: Well, you said him.

Fraser: I generalized without thinking. I am sorry.

Dahlia: No, it is okay.

Fraser: So are we good?

Dahlia: Of course, we are good. Look, my brother had been a big part of my life and it is just not easy losing someone like that.

Fraser: It is okay, you can mourn for your brother.

Dahlia: I think you were right to some extent that night.

Fraser: I was?

Dahlia: Yes, I mean; he did have problems.

Fraser: Yes, now you see.

Dahlia: I mean the problems went way back before you came into my life.

Fraser: That is exactly what I have been trying to tell you.

Dahlia: And in addition to that, he was never good with his anger.

Photo of an angry man

Fraser: I could recall how he used to beat you.

Dahlia: But that was not all of it. The one thing that I really hated about that man was that he never ever considered me an independent woman.

Fraser: Do you remember how he used to boss you around?

Dahlia: And he got me to break up with at least, three ex-boyfriends.

Fraser: It was almost as if he was living in the stone-age.

Dahlia: You know the first thing that attracted me towards you was that you gave me the respect I deserved.

Fraser: And I will always respect you, no matter what.

Dahlia: I was a fool to have let him control my life like this.

Fraser: Don’t be so hard on yourself. A lot of people were fooled by his arrogance.

Dahlia: Who else got affected by my brother’s behavior?

Fraser: You entire family suffered because of him. It was not just you.

Dahlia: How about we meet some place and forget all about Nick?

Fraser: I would love to do it but I am kind of busy right now. How about tomorrow night?

Dahlia: Sounds perfect to me. You know how I was thinking that I have at least one honest man in my life.

Fraser: Well, we all lie at some point.

Dahlia: Not you. I am sure that you are everything that my brother never was.

Fraser: Let us hope that we never fall into bad times again.

Dahlia: We will not, I am sure of it.

Fraser: You know I am not an angel, don’t you?

Dahlia: I swear, I will never break up with you, no matter what.

Chapter 3

Fraser: That was fun. I hope your father does not know what we did all night.

Dahlia: My father was never a threat to me. The only threat to me is now gone.

Fraser: You know I have never seen you so happy in my life.

Dahlia: That is because this is the happiest moment of my life.

Fraser: Look, there is something I need to tell you.

Dahlia: What is it?

Fraser: I really don’t want to ruin your mood, but this needs to be said.

Dahlia: Come on, don’t be so coy. Tell me what is on your mind.

Fraser: You do remember that you said you wouldn’t leave me no matter what?

Dahlia: Oh! You are the sweetest thing that ever happened to me.

Fraser: What are you talking about?

Dahlia: I know what you are trying to tell me. I already know your secret.

Fraser: What secret might that be?

Dahlia: I know that you haven’t called the chef for the wedding dinner yet.

Photo of a long wedding table set with food.

Fraser: How did you know about that?

Dahlia: Because I am keeping a list of things that need to be done.

Fraser: But that is not what I wanted to talk to you about tonight.

Dahlia: No, I know it is more serious than the appointment with the chef.

Fraser: Exactly. That is what I have been trying to tell you. This is serious stuff.

Dahlia: Arranging where the guests would be sitting is a serious business.

Fraser: What?!

Dahlia: I know you haven’t done that too. Basically, you have done nothing for this wedding to easier, but I understand.

Fraser: You do?

Dahlia: Of course, I do. You are a guy. Why on earth would you be interested in the flower arrangement?

Fraser: That is true but you are not letting me talk.

Dahlia: Why do you want to blame yourself for everything that is happening in the fuss of the wedding ceremony?

Fraser: What do you mean?

Dahlia: I mean I have already told you that I would not leave you no matter what. Why are you so eager on putting that theory to test?

Fraser: Because I think I should be honest to you about everything before we get married.

Dahlia: You think I have been lying to you about something?

Fraser: No! I know you are honest, my love. I really do, but I need a chance to be honest too.

Dahlia: Look, anything you have not done from the list of chores which were handed down to you, it is okay.

Fraser: This is not about the wedding.

Dahlia: Then what is it about?

Fraser: I want to confess to something, but you need to listen with an open mind.

Dahlia: What exactly do you mean by an open mind?

Fraser: Are you standing? Please, sit down.

Dahlia: Oh no!

Fraser: What is it?

Dahlia: I think I know exactly what is going on.

Chapter 4

Dahlia: What are you trying to say?

Fraser: I wanted to tell you this in person but I did not have what it took to face you.

Dahlia: What are you saying?

Fraser: I know it may seem cruel that I am taking so long to tell you what happened, but you must understand, these maybe the last moments I have with you.

Dahlia: Are you leaving me? | Are you joking about this?

Fraser: No, I am not leaving you. You are the one person I have loved the most in my life.

Dahlia: Then what is the problem? You are seriously scaring me.

Fraser: The problem is that we all make mistakes and some of the mistakes are bigger than others.

Dahlia: I don’t think I follow what you are saying.  What mistakes have you made?

Fraser: Would you leave me if I tell you?

Dahlia: I told you I was not going to leave you, no matter what.

Fraser: Even if what I am about to tell you hurts your feelings?

Dahlia: Oh God!

Fraser:  What is it? Look, give me a chance to explain.

Dahlia: I should have known about this.

Fraser: Known about what? Look, it was an accident. I really wanted to tell you but you are so sensitive about the subject.

Dahlia: Who is she?

Fraser: What? Who is who?

Dahlia: Don’t you dare play that game with me. Who is that woman?

Fraser: What woman? I don’t know what you are talking about, but you need to listen to my side of the story before you jump to conclusions.

Dahlia: I have heard enough, I think. Are you telling me about who she is or do I have to come there and find out?

Fraser: Look, I am completely lost here. What are you talking about?

Dahlia: We make mistakes? It was an accident? Surely, you are sleeping with another woman.

Photo of a woman dressed in suggestive clothes.

Fraser: OHH! No, love, I am completely faithful to you, I promise.

Dahlia: But you just told me that it was an accident. That you did not mean for the events to turn the way they did.

Fraser: Yes, I did say that, but I am talking about something completely different.

Dahlia: If you are not talking about other women, what are you talking about?

Fraser: I don’t know how to say this. But I think you must brace yourself for it.

Dahlia: For what?! Oh my God! You are using?

Fraser: Using what? I am not on drugs, love. You need to listen to me. There is a problem and that problem needs to be sorted before we get married.

Dahlia: Okay that is a relief. If you are not using drugs and you are not cheating, I don’t think there is any other thing fatal enough to affect our relation.

Fraser: Are you sure about that? You seemed awfully close to your brother.

Dahlia: Yes, I did. But he made his own choice when he walked away from this house.

Fraser: How sure are you that he walked away?

Dahlia: What? You are on his side now?

Fraser: I am just saying that I know more about your brother than I let on. And I may also know what happened to him.

Dahlia: And you kept this a secret from me? Is that your secret? Well, I don’t blame you for trying to protect me.

Fraser: But I really want you to know what happened to him. Where he is right now and how he got there.

Dahlia: Is he using drugs? Is he in jail? Tell me where he is? I need to help him.

Fraser: I think you can’t help him anymore. No one can help him anymore.

Dahlia: What are you saying, Fraser. You have been at it for almost half an hour now and I cannot take any more guesses.

Fraser: I only am telling you because I love you and this is a difficult decision for me.

Dahlia: Get it over with!

Fraser: Your brother is dead.

Dahlia: OH MY GOD! WHAT? WHY? HOW? WHEN?

Fraser: It is a long story and I don’t want you to get into the gruesome details of his murder.

Dahlia: HE WAS MURDERED?? AND YOU KEPT THIS FROM ME? DO YOU EVEN CARE ABOUT ME?

Fraser: You need to listen to me, okay? It was an accident and he came at me.

Dahlia: Wait a minute? What do you mean he came at you? You were involved in all this?

Fraser: That is what I have been trying to tell you all night. I think I may have accidentally killed Nick.

Chapter 5

Fraser: Look, don’t get mad. Let me explain.

Dahlia: What is there to explain? My brother is dead and my fiancé is the murderer?

Fraser: It is not like that! He came at me and attacked it, I had to fight him. It was all self–defense.

Dahlia: Do the cops know about this?

Fraser: No, of course not. I hid the body somewhere but I swear to you it was an accident.

Dahlia: How did he die?

Fraser: Look, Dahlia.

Dahlia: You told me there were gruesome details about this death. How did he die?

Fraser: He fell from a cliff.

Dahlia: Oh my God! You threw him off the cliff? Is that how much you hated him?

Fraser: It was an accident and I did not throw him off the cliff.

Dahlia: Oh, then why did you hide that body? Let me tell you why, because you did it.

Fraser: I swear to you Dahlia, it was an accident. I was standing there because he wanted to meet me there.

Dahlia: My brother would have never met you before the wedding. I made him promise that.

Fraser: And he was such an honest man, right?

Dahlia: At least, he did not kill his fiancé’s brother and hid the fact for so long.

Fraser: So long? This happened two weeks ago.

Dahlia: I knew something was wrong with Nick. He would have never abandoned me, no matter what.

Fraser: He tried to kill me! | Do you even care about me?

Dahlia: How do I believe in what you are saying? From where I am standing, you are the one alive and he is the one dead.

Fraser: Please don’t leave me.

Dahlia: Oh, trust me, you have bigger problems on your plate right now.

Fraser: Are you going to hand me over to the cops?

Dahlia: I just need to stay away from you for some time.

Fraser: Dahlia, I am so sorry. I really did not want to kill him. I love you, why would I do that to you?

Dahlia: He was right about you. I had been too blind in love to see you for what you really were.

Fraser: Please don’t leave me. Give me a chance to explain. I love you!

Dahlia: Don’t message me again unless I message you. And if I were you, I would start looking for an attorney.

A few hours later

Fraser: Dahlia, I am so sorry.

Dahlia: I don’t know why you did, what you did, but I think it was very cruel.

Fraser: I am so sorry, babe. Just hand me over to the cops, but know that I love you.

Dahlia: I mean, maybe you wanted to call off the wedding or maybe it was a prank of some sort.

Fraser: Believe me, all I have done today is told the truth.

Dahlia: You know I should be relieved that whatever you said earlier was bullshit. I just can’t think of a reason why you would lie about such a sensitive subject.

Fraser: I was telling you the truth. Why don’t you believe me? You think I wanted to make you cry?

Dahlia: Whatever your reasons were, I still want you to complete all your chores before the wedding.

Fraser: We are going to have the wedding?

Dahlia: If you don’t want to, I can cancel.

Fraser: I want to, baby. I really want to but what about your brother?

Dahlia: I know you did not kill him, Fraser. I don’t know why you would say such a thing.

Fraser: I told you the truth, if you don’t want to believe it that is okay. I just want you to know that I love you.

Dahlia: I love you too. And I get it. You wanted me to forget all about my brother and so you made me believe that he was dead.

Fraser: He is dead.

Dahlia: You can stop acting like a jerk now, Fraser. Despite your shortcomings, I knew you could never hurt another soul.

Fraser: Nick is dead.

Dahlia: Oh really? Then who is downstairs sitting in the TV lounge eating popcorns?

Photo of a man eating popcorn and sitting in front of the tv.

Fraser: But I killed him. I buried him near old creek river.

Dahlia: Ha-ha! Very funny!