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Story so far

Captured

Part Three

I have to admit it’s tempting to go for him right here. The party has already whipped up one Hell of a frenzy - one punch will inevitably change the tide of the jubilations. I do love a riot. But, it would be a waste to expose myself here so soon after someone else has been accused of my crimes. I should take advantage of the cloak his sacrifice has given while I can.

I stand before him, appearing to him as a woman very much like the one he loved and lost. I can see him panic at the sight of me, and a jab of anxiety pierces through my calm demeanour. I may have over-calibrated and look too much like her. His gaze suddenly softens as he realises I am just a poor copy of her. My nose is a little bigger, my eyes are darker blue, and I’m about an inch shorter than she was. Lust emanates from him, intricately tied with something darker. I’m a little disappointed; this will be easier than I thought.

I move to whisper in his ear. He nods, takes my outstretched hand, and follows without a word. The crowd is still pushed tightly together and getting rowdier by the minute, but people naturally part for us. His grip is getting tighter as we weave toward the front door. Anyone else would find it painful at this point. They’d try to pull away. Turn and tell him to let go. Terror would rise in their chest when he refused to. But I’m not anyone else.

The alleyway between the block of flats seemed as good a place as any. This man doesn’t deserve a better place to die. He doesn’t even deserve to know why. But it’s all part of the ritual. He has to know.

He stands before me in the alley, ensuring I am positioned between him and the wall. The predator setting up his prey, not knowing he is the hunted. Before he can lean into me, I whisper her name.

“Clara.”

The name is enough. He pulls away, tripping over his own feet. He stammers for words that fall away in a jumble.

“Oh good. You remember her.”

He is still reeling from the name. From the memories of her. He is trying to figure out who I am, how I know Clara, and if I know anymore than that she’s been missing for five years.

“I’ll save your little brain some effort. Yes I know what you did. So, now you have two options which is one more than you gave her. You can run or you can fight. I don’t mind which, I find joy in both.”

I get a lick of shame in his scent as his processes the memories of Clara. I’d like to say it’s refreshing to sense remorse but it’s somehow worse to know that someone with a soul could do such terrible thing. The feeling passes quick enough, giving way to panic and anger. He wants to end me. I look forward to seeing him try.

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