The Dying Ember

The Dying Ember (No dialogue)



         What he had said shocked her.  She didn't know what to say, or how to react. Should she be happy and excited, or questioning about his last remark? She couldn't be sure so she had said that he didn't even know her, how could he want to marry her, how could she say yes? She could tell that she had hurt him deeply. Sarah felt bad for upsetting John like she had with her saying pretty much no, that she wouldn't marry him. Deep down inside she knew that he meant well, and that also, she did really like him, she just wasn't sure if she was ready to take it to the next level. It had all come too quickly for her. She wasn't used to the idea of being with someone for this long anyways. He was the first. Normally she would have dumped the guy after a few days, a week at the most, but John was different. He was so kind, so loving, so giving, not to mention exceptionally cute. No. John was different, unusual, and she liked that, no, she was driven crazy with unknown emotions. She loved him. She just didn't want to rush into anything. She wanted to make sure of this one. He was too special to mess it up with a rational outburst of emotion. She would all too soon find that the emotion that she had tried to fend from, actually, was being harvested and honed and burned to fiery coals that would soon run wild and free and then all hell would break lose.


         He had put his head down, slouching beatenly to his chest. Soft flowing tears wet his cheeks and his eyes brightened with a scarlet red. After a few moments of his inner remorse, he had looked up and ordered her to the car. She had obeyed. The rage was clearly shown over his face and his actions as he slammed the door shut and started the car up, roaring with hunger, and pushing on the gas accelerating them off into the consuming darkness. She was embarrassed and afraid for what must be going on inside John's head. She could tell she had hurt him. She began to cry as well. She peered out of the window as the deathly silence rained more and more condensation into the mist of the moving vehicle. She hadn't paid much attention as to where they were going, but now, after ten minutes or so had passed by and her sadness had subsided somewhat, she began to notice that the woods around them were beginning to become much more dense and full. She didn't bother with it though. Five minutes later though the road switched from a smooth paved one to a rocky dirt road with weeds and grass growing all around it. She had looked over at him anxiously for any signs of a brightened mood, but she saw none, just the same determined hatred in his eyes. She could see the vein on the side of his neck pulsating and his jaw clenched as if he were chewing some piece of beef jerky that had lodged itself in his teeth. There was something terribly wrong. She became nervous.


         John was fuming inside his mind. How could she not want to marry him? What was wrong with him? He never did anything to make her not love him like he loved her. He had put so much time and effort and thought into the most romantic evening as to ask her to marry him. And at the end of it all, she had merely said, "I don't know." What do you mean you don't know? he thought to himself. Of course you know. You just have been using me this whole time and not even really cared for me. You will learn he thought. Yes. If I can't have you and if you shalt have anything to do with me, then, no one else shall either. I will make sure of that. He looked over at Sarah and grinned.


         She saw him smiling at her and it made her cringe. Her pulse quickened to the next degree and her palms moistened. Her mouth was drying rapidly and her tongue tried without revelation to ease the cotton-ness by lapping about frantically, to no array. She began to cry again. Through her tears she saw a house finally coming into view. It was rather stout and old looking. It was a log cabin and it had a small shed about thirty feet away, some fire wood was stacked up near by, presumingly in close proximity for the winter. John opened the car door and walked briskly over to the passenger side, opening it as well and grabbing Sarah by the arm viciously and yanking her out. She fell to the pebbled ground and cut her hands on the rocks. She began to cry again, not from the pain, but out of fear. That fear quickly changed to terror when he began to drag her to the house and then left her there on the wood floor of the living room, telling her that if she wasn't there when he got back she wouldn't like what he would do to her when he found her again. She had obeyed out of pure frightfulness. He had come back a few moments later with something in his hands. Her heart skipped another beat when she noticed finally what it was in his palm.

         "What are you going to do with me?" she asked.

He turned around after downing a gulp of beer from the refrigerator and smiled.

         "Now, it wouldn't be a surprise if I told you that, now would it?" He grinned wickedly.

Sarah's heart sank even more. What had happened to him? Where was the old John at? The one she so loved and adored. What had she done? John picked up the handle grip on the whip and walked over to where she sat hunched over on the cold floor.

         "Shall we begin?" he spoke more than asked, softly tapping the leather ropes against his free hand.
Her eyes glazed over and she collapsed unconscious.



         She awoke to the burning sensation in her nostrils. She gaged and coughed. The stench was overwhelming. She couldn't take it any longer. The fluids came raspingly and wet the earth near her hands. The air was chilly and damp. There was seemingly no sign of light here in this casket of darkness. Sarah huddled up to herself in the corner. The movement pained her stomach and she cringed. She looked down to see what was causing her such agony and was terrified at what she saw lying about her feet. In the mist of darkness, with the help of a lone sphere of light that coalesced down through the air she could make out the shape of some kind of liquid. She touched it and it was still warm. The iron smell became all to knowingly to her brain. Blood. Her heart began to beat faster. Blood? What was blood doing down here? What was she doing down here? Where was John? Her mind raced with all the possibilities. She dared not let her mind come to the conclusion that this was her blood, she dared not.


         Meanwhile, the figure sat upstairs reading an article that didn't much appease to him. He could hear her whimpering downstairs in the basement, just like all the other victims had done. He had loved doing what he did to her more than he had ever felt before with the others. She was indeed special. He had somehow known that from the beginning when he had first spotted her in the park. He had made for the move to introduce himself and it had gone smoothly. He smiled. He had fallen in love with her almost instantaneously, from the moment he first saw her. Five months had gone by and they were still together and he had proposed to her. The smile disappeared. She was ungrateful. And he would insure that her lack of gratitude didn't go without confliction. He would make sure she would remember. She would have all the time in the world to think about it--in eternity.


         He folded the magazine and dropped it on the table. Sitting up he walked over to the door that led down to the basement. He fumbled through the keys noisily to make sure she knew about his presence. The extra tension would make for a more rewarding outcome for him. As he had found out many other times. The lock finally caught and the knob turned squeaking.


         The sudden noise off in the distance to the side had caught her attention. She watched anxiously. Her mind was racing and she feared for the worst. The light then came blinding her. She quickly clasped her hands over her eyes to shut out the light. While her hands covered her face she could hear the rattling of boots walking down stairs. He was coming. She swallowed a knot that had formed in the back of her throat.

         "I see you're awake. Good. I'd much rather have you awake for your next surprise. You going unconscious didn't much make for a good game. You will try and be a much better sport won't you?" he smiled mischievously. He walked over to a counter that had all sorts of different tools upon it. Sarah dared to look up. She regretted it  once she did. What her eyes beheld was like something out of a nightmare. It couldn't be. No. She closed her eyes, the tears came again.

John smiled knowingly. "Yes. These are they. Right from your own bosom. No worries. You shalt be needing these anyway."

She was crying loudly now. Her body began to convulse and shake with the un-containable fear that threatened to rip her apart from the inside out. The thought made her feel her stomach.

         "What did you do? What did you do?" She sobbed. "Please John, please let me go. I'm sorry"

         "I'm afraid that's not possible. Besides, you made your choice, now you must stick with it and all its consequences that follow." Again he grinned. Sarah's eyes roamed the area and finally came to where John's left hand was resting. It was a knife. And what dripped down from it to the floor spilled horror in her mind. She started all at once.
         "John. Please John. Don't do this. Please don't do this."
He ignored her and walked over to her with a rope in hand.
         "I'm sorry dear, but you brought this upon yourself."
He tied her to the twin pipes that he had installed many years back for this same purpose. Her face was faced from him but he could tell that she was crying from the heaving of her back and that she was very very afraid. He smiled. As she should be he thought to himself. As she should be.


         She cried out as the first blow came. Then another and another and another. She bit down on her lip and begged for death to come. But it didn't. Another whip came down on her back, sending remnants of flesh and bone and blood around the walls. Her teeth ripped through her lips at the next blow. The pain became numbing after a few minutes of endless slashes. Her mind was gone and she slouched against the chilly brick wall as he continued. The last thing she remembered was hearing John laughing. Laughing. Crying out with ecstasy as he whipped her again and again and again. Hours later when her lifeless body lay on the floor, completely drained of blood he had untied her and put her in the hole that he had dug previously. After covering it up and hosing down the walls and the floor and all his tools he went back upstairs. The sun had come up and was shining brightly with invigorating laughter. As was his soul. He smiled. He ate himself a nice breakfast and had some hot coffee. Then he went and took a cold shower. He got dressed after about ten minutes. He locked up the house and left.



Two weeks later...



         John was walking down the street as was planned. He had been watching her for some time now. Marking her every stop, her every motion, her every day path. He had devised a most ingenious plan. And today it was to be carried out. As she neared the spot that he had lettered to be where it would happen, his heart quickened and he smiled with knowing excitement. He saw the cab driver waiting patiently in the distance and he signaled for him to start moving. As if programmed the driver reared his car alive and slowly crept down the busy street. John closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Just like we planned it he thought. Just like we planned it. Don't worry. She won't know what hit her. The moment was almost at hand and he made his move. Quickly he walked along the opposite side of the street, dodging in and out of the crowd, all the while keeping close watch over his prey. She was doing just as was thought. She stopped at a near-by coffee shop and a few moments later came out again with a cup in hand. Next she stopped at a newspaper stand and purchased the daily paper. Again as planned. Next she came to the cross-roads section of the street. He had to hurry. The cab driver saw him make the move and he accelerated on the gas. The little child was there, all un-awares of the car speeding toward her. The crowd all of a sudden broke out with screams and shouts and scurried out of the way, leaving the little child out in the open of death's divine grip. Surely she would die here this day they all thought. Surely. But they were wrong. At the last possible moment John dove across the remaining few feet separating him from the little girl and grabbed her, pushing her out of harms way. The driver slammed on his breaks just as John was in mid-air. Not an inch too soon. John's face was a few deadly inches away from what could possibly have been his death. But he knew it wasn't so. He had picked this one well, and he had paid him good too. Inside John smiled, knowing that he had just scored, but outwardly his face was all distraught and frightened. He breathed abnormally quicker to enhance the picture. He reached over and patted the little girls head. The mother had come back and was crying and thanking him repeatedly for saving her little girl's life. He nodded. He was looking through the crowd for what he had come for. A few moments later he spotted her, near the front. She was starring at him in awe and great admiration. He slowly stood up, over exaggerating the effort. He brushed off his clothes and picked up his hat. Just then there came a soft hand on his arm. He looked over and his breath caught from the beauty that he beheld. She was even more beautiful up close. The words caught in his mouth. The silence was ended though with her soft, crisp voice.
         "Are you okay? That was quite a spill you had there." she smiled.
John smiled back. "Yes. I'm fine."
         "That was really brave of you to do that."
         "What do you mean?" he asked.
         "You know what I mean, jumping out in the way of that car and saving that girl's life. That's what I mean. That was really nice of you."
John blushed. "O, that." he laughed. "That was nothing. Anyone would have done it." he lowered his face as was planned to show his kindness. She raised his face back to hers.
         "No. Not many people would have done it." her eyes were piercing him, liquifying.
         "Well, thanks." he spoke.
         "No. It's you I should be thanking."
He lowered his head again. "What's your name?" he asked.
         "Issabel. But my friends call me Issy."
How appropriate he thought. Yes. Yes, you were easy.
         "My name is John," he said instead.
         "Well, John, would you care to join me to lunch?" she smiled.
         "Of course. That's if it's okay with you I mean?"
         "It's quite okay with me." She lowered her head now and John knew he had scored a big one.
         "Shall we go?" he asked. "Where would you like to go?"
She gained her composure and smiled mischievously, "I know a place."
And with that they walked around the corner, yet another cycle to be run. John winked at the driver and he sped off. They had done well today. They had done well.