Honest in Lies

Candy shot up in bed once again, sweat beading her hairline. The same dream again. Scanning the area once again, she found nothing that would lead to such nightmares. Nothing. Perhaps it was just her reaction to that dead girl she had tripped over. Things like that didn’t happen daily. Rubbing her head, Candy heard a strange noise from the lower half of her tall house. Slipping out of bed, she climbed down the spiraling staircase as quietly as possible, hoping not to disturb or anger whatever, or whoever was down there.

When she hoped off the last step, she scanned her kitchen. Nothing. Her living room. Nothing. The rest of her house had nothing in it. Candy jumped at the sound of her phone ringing. Why was it even ringing at such an early hour in the morning? Striding over, she clicked the answer button. “Hello?”

“How did I know you would be up?” Jesse asked with a sigh.

She sighed herself in relief. “What are you even doing up?”

“The boss called,” codename for their director. “said shooting’s been cancelled until further notice. The police are seriously looking into this.”

“You’re shitting me.” she frowned, peering out the kitchen window. “What the hell am I supposed to do until then?” Candy had her entire two weeks cleared out due to this specific scene. It was the only scene they needed before it was going to get edited and put out.

“Could come over and keep you company,” he teased.

“Jesse,” she laughed, as something moved outside her window; near a little cluster of trees far off. Blinking, she turned her attention back to him. “I’m going to have to call you back.”

She ran from the regular door of her home, sprinting down the driveway in her bare feet to find that figure. It would be paparazzi. She could get them and sue them for trespassing on private property. That would be a nice nub in the ass for them. Candy could still see the figure; it almost looked as if it was injured by the way it was wavering back and forth.

Slowing down to a trot, she felt her breath hot in her face. What if it wasn’t a photographer, but instead someone really was hurt? The flicker of movement drew her back as she saw the figure pick up and start moving.

“Wait! Stop!” was her eruptive cry as her feet moved from underneath her again. She moved, eyes trailing on the slowly moving figurine. It had to have been injured, the slight limp and drag in the right leg. “I can help you!” she screamed. She was rearing up on it, seeing that it was indeed in the shape of a human; possibly a male. “Hold on!”

Candy reached him, to rest a tender hand on his shoulder. The man whipped around, blood staining in a ring around his mouth and teeth. A scar ran along his left cheek, the healed wound standing out against his pale skin. He had chocolate brown shaggy hair that hung over his forehead. He had dark blue eyes that spoke nothing, but explained everything and doubled as a sea. His chin was strong, muscular and sculpted. Behind the decoration of blood, she could see slim lips hiding a straight set of teeth. He was beautiful; despite the multiple wounds he was sustaining.

“Get off of me,” he growled in a low animalistic voice.

“You need help,” she replied sternly, hand still resting on his shoulder. “You need to see a doctor.”

“I’ll be fine,” he growled again, batting her hand off with a force that left her shocked and hurt.

“Excuse me, but in case you haven’t noticed a nice part of your neck is missing. You need help.” She hissed through clenched teeth. “And you are on private property, so I could sue you for more than your worth. So either you let me get you help, or your ass faces court.”

He turned to her, upper lip curled in disgust. He looked Candy up and down, before walking off in the direction of her home.

“So you’re letting me help you?”

“Obviously if I’m walking to your home.” He said sarcastically, shoulders hunched slightly.

Candy scowled but walked behind him, and back until they were in her living room. “Don’t even think about sitting down on my couch.” He did anyways.