Status: updates are kind of slow. sorry.
Hard Water
viii
The white chiffon of my wedding dress was ripped and stained red with blood.
My vision shook deliriously. Even now, the bright liquid continued to trickle lazily over my throat and the skin of my chest and drip on to the wooden floor of the chapel with deafening pings. I raised my shaking hands up to my neck and slowly pushed my fingers into the warm flesh in complete horror, then drew them away and held them up just to vomit at the sight before me. This could not be real. Had my own fiance really just slit my throat at our own wedding?
Pain and terror washed over me and I dropped to my knees, ugly, hoarse sobs spilling from my mutilated throat. This was not how I wanted to die. He knelt beside me mockingly, and I could just about make out his glittering blue eyes as he appraised me. Tears streamed freely from my eyes, mixing with the blood in a disgusting concoction which no doubt delighted his deranged mind.
Callum held up the thick knife with a grin, and pointed it towards me. "Ready for round two?"
I screamed.
-
A sudden noise jolted me from my nightmare, and it took me a few seconds to register that it was a shriek, although it did not come from me. I was sweating profusely and had no idea where I was. It was pitch black and so very, very cold. My clothes stuck to my skin, despite the sub-zero temperature, and I carefully turned myself over and sat up. Realisation began to flood towards me: I was in some sort of cave. There had been no boats down at the dock when I had tried to flee the island, so I had settled for venturing as far across the fields and cliffs as I could from the hotel. I had forgotten how early the sun set and hid myself away in a small, shallow cove near the sea. Groggily, I thought about Callum, another wave of sweat prickling my skin as images from my nightmare flashed through my mind.
It was fucked up, to say the least. I knew I didn't love Callum, but I wasn't frightened of him. Still, there were still images of blood spattered over my brain and I automatically clutched my throat to check that it was still intact. The feeling of soft flesh made me relax a little; then I remembered the shriek that had woken me from my troubled sleep. I scrambled to my feet and stumbled from the cave into the cold night, having to steady myself against the walls a few times along the way. It was still fairly light outside. My eyes were forced to adjust quickly from the pitch black to the harsh sun. I had no way of checking the time, but from the deep red hue that had begun to seep on to the horizon, I guessed that it must have still been early evening, perhaps seven or eight o'clock.
Miles of green fields stretched out around me and I glanced around awkwardly, feeling lost. I walked forward, towards the faint sound of waves crashing as I started to piece together the awful scenario and the most likely answer for what I had heard. Dread stirred in my stomach. I squeezed my eyes closed as I approached the edge of the cliff and stopped walking.
"Don't look down," whispered a male voice close to my ear.
My eyes shot open and I snapped my head up to see one of the men from when we first arrived on the island. The blonde one with the strange accent, whose severe facial features were now only inches from my own face; strong, rectangular jaw, straight nose, and piercing light green eyes. They looked almost like they had been washed out by the sun: my heart thumped. I always preferred lighter eyes to dark, maybe because I had only ever been with white guys. I knew due to experience that they weren't always like Callum, but somehow I had been stupid enough to fall for him anyway.
"What is it?" I said, my voice barely audible, not daring to defy his request out of fear of what I might see.
"Who are you?" he asked, beautiful yet peculiar eyes never leaving mine. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me close to him before I had time to react. I stared dumbly at him in shock, mouth slightly agape. "Did you do this?" he hissed.
"D-Do what?" Confusion began to outweigh my fear.
He yanked me by my hair, eliciting a yelp from me, and forced my head to turn at a painful angle so that I was staring straight down the cliff face. I thought he was going to kill me until I saw her. "Oh. Oh my God," I choked, tears threatening to spill from my eyes when I observed the woman's body lying limp and mangled on a rock, her red hair mixing with the pool of blood and gore gathered around her clearly destroyed skull.
"Answer me!" the man shook me violently, his firm grip still on my hair. "Answer me, or I swear to God I will throw you off this cliff! What are you?"
What am I? What kind of question is that? I thought desperately, and contemplated the idea that I may have been in the hands of a lunatic, until I noticed the tears in his eyes, and realised that he looked just as confused as I was. He was staring at me in a mixture of anger and what could only be described as a strange kind of wonder as he searched my face for an answer to his inane question.
"I can assure you," I began as steadily as possible as not to anger him further, "that I did not do this, and have no idea what you're asking. Please let go of me."
To my surprise, he obeyed my request and took a few steps back from me. I rubbed my stinging skull and contemplated making a run for it, but the situation was so surreal I couldn't bring myself to move. I had to remain calm, even though it was pretty obvious he had just murdered another human being.
"Is there a policeman on this island?" I asked him. "Do you want me to call the police?"
"No," he whispered, "no, no, no-"
"It's okay. Listen to me. It's okay. Tell me what happened. What's your name?"
"Adam. This wasn't me. I loved her, I swear. Oh, God. Fuck. They'll think it was me. I need to go, I need to-" He swayed on his feet and lurched towards the edge of the cliff. I cried out and leapt forward to grab his arm and prevent him from falling, but he ripped it out of my grasp and ran forward again. I moved quicker than I thought possible and wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him into a violent embrace, his sobs racking his chest and large hands pulling at my smaller arms. He was a lot taller and stronger than me, so it took all my strength just to keep him close to me, but eventually he relaxed and stopped struggling.
Hesitantly, I took his face in my hands and looked him in the eyes. "Adam, my name is Mona and I'm going to call the police. Will you promise not to do anything stupid?" He nodded, swallowing, and I continued to hold him against me even as I heard Callum's voice calling my name from far away.
My vision shook deliriously. Even now, the bright liquid continued to trickle lazily over my throat and the skin of my chest and drip on to the wooden floor of the chapel with deafening pings. I raised my shaking hands up to my neck and slowly pushed my fingers into the warm flesh in complete horror, then drew them away and held them up just to vomit at the sight before me. This could not be real. Had my own fiance really just slit my throat at our own wedding?
Pain and terror washed over me and I dropped to my knees, ugly, hoarse sobs spilling from my mutilated throat. This was not how I wanted to die. He knelt beside me mockingly, and I could just about make out his glittering blue eyes as he appraised me. Tears streamed freely from my eyes, mixing with the blood in a disgusting concoction which no doubt delighted his deranged mind.
Callum held up the thick knife with a grin, and pointed it towards me. "Ready for round two?"
I screamed.
-
A sudden noise jolted me from my nightmare, and it took me a few seconds to register that it was a shriek, although it did not come from me. I was sweating profusely and had no idea where I was. It was pitch black and so very, very cold. My clothes stuck to my skin, despite the sub-zero temperature, and I carefully turned myself over and sat up. Realisation began to flood towards me: I was in some sort of cave. There had been no boats down at the dock when I had tried to flee the island, so I had settled for venturing as far across the fields and cliffs as I could from the hotel. I had forgotten how early the sun set and hid myself away in a small, shallow cove near the sea. Groggily, I thought about Callum, another wave of sweat prickling my skin as images from my nightmare flashed through my mind.
It was fucked up, to say the least. I knew I didn't love Callum, but I wasn't frightened of him. Still, there were still images of blood spattered over my brain and I automatically clutched my throat to check that it was still intact. The feeling of soft flesh made me relax a little; then I remembered the shriek that had woken me from my troubled sleep. I scrambled to my feet and stumbled from the cave into the cold night, having to steady myself against the walls a few times along the way. It was still fairly light outside. My eyes were forced to adjust quickly from the pitch black to the harsh sun. I had no way of checking the time, but from the deep red hue that had begun to seep on to the horizon, I guessed that it must have still been early evening, perhaps seven or eight o'clock.
Miles of green fields stretched out around me and I glanced around awkwardly, feeling lost. I walked forward, towards the faint sound of waves crashing as I started to piece together the awful scenario and the most likely answer for what I had heard. Dread stirred in my stomach. I squeezed my eyes closed as I approached the edge of the cliff and stopped walking.
"Don't look down," whispered a male voice close to my ear.
My eyes shot open and I snapped my head up to see one of the men from when we first arrived on the island. The blonde one with the strange accent, whose severe facial features were now only inches from my own face; strong, rectangular jaw, straight nose, and piercing light green eyes. They looked almost like they had been washed out by the sun: my heart thumped. I always preferred lighter eyes to dark, maybe because I had only ever been with white guys. I knew due to experience that they weren't always like Callum, but somehow I had been stupid enough to fall for him anyway.
"What is it?" I said, my voice barely audible, not daring to defy his request out of fear of what I might see.
"Who are you?" he asked, beautiful yet peculiar eyes never leaving mine. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me close to him before I had time to react. I stared dumbly at him in shock, mouth slightly agape. "Did you do this?" he hissed.
"D-Do what?" Confusion began to outweigh my fear.
He yanked me by my hair, eliciting a yelp from me, and forced my head to turn at a painful angle so that I was staring straight down the cliff face. I thought he was going to kill me until I saw her. "Oh. Oh my God," I choked, tears threatening to spill from my eyes when I observed the woman's body lying limp and mangled on a rock, her red hair mixing with the pool of blood and gore gathered around her clearly destroyed skull.
"Answer me!" the man shook me violently, his firm grip still on my hair. "Answer me, or I swear to God I will throw you off this cliff! What are you?"
What am I? What kind of question is that? I thought desperately, and contemplated the idea that I may have been in the hands of a lunatic, until I noticed the tears in his eyes, and realised that he looked just as confused as I was. He was staring at me in a mixture of anger and what could only be described as a strange kind of wonder as he searched my face for an answer to his inane question.
"I can assure you," I began as steadily as possible as not to anger him further, "that I did not do this, and have no idea what you're asking. Please let go of me."
To my surprise, he obeyed my request and took a few steps back from me. I rubbed my stinging skull and contemplated making a run for it, but the situation was so surreal I couldn't bring myself to move. I had to remain calm, even though it was pretty obvious he had just murdered another human being.
"Is there a policeman on this island?" I asked him. "Do you want me to call the police?"
"No," he whispered, "no, no, no-"
"It's okay. Listen to me. It's okay. Tell me what happened. What's your name?"
"Adam. This wasn't me. I loved her, I swear. Oh, God. Fuck. They'll think it was me. I need to go, I need to-" He swayed on his feet and lurched towards the edge of the cliff. I cried out and leapt forward to grab his arm and prevent him from falling, but he ripped it out of my grasp and ran forward again. I moved quicker than I thought possible and wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him into a violent embrace, his sobs racking his chest and large hands pulling at my smaller arms. He was a lot taller and stronger than me, so it took all my strength just to keep him close to me, but eventually he relaxed and stopped struggling.
Hesitantly, I took his face in my hands and looked him in the eyes. "Adam, my name is Mona and I'm going to call the police. Will you promise not to do anything stupid?" He nodded, swallowing, and I continued to hold him against me even as I heard Callum's voice calling my name from far away.