POV: Harmony Winters

Run! Harmony, run!

My subconscious mind kept trying to push me to break free from his grip, and escape for my life, before he did something more dangerous than he had ever done in the past. He was out of his mind, and if I didn’t leave this minute, he was going to put an end to the gift of breath I had been given.

However, it was hard to get loose from his overpowering strength, as his hands held mine above my head, pinning me to the wall, with so much force and dexterity. He was going on about how much he couldn’t wait to keep my corpse in his basement, along with the other corpses he deemed to be trophies, which he had collected over the years.

“Please, let me go,” I pleaded, through clenched teeth.

He shook his head slowly, with a smirk embracing his mouth. “You aren’t going anywhere,” He snapped, glaring at me with a menacing look, that made cold shivers run down my spine.

“I promise... No! I swear on my life that I wouldn’t say what I saw,” I said, as my lips quivered, with my whole body trembling in fear.

“Of course, you wouldn’t dare say what you have seen, because by then, you’d be long dead,” He said, guffawing like the psychopathic imbecile he was.

I shuddered, as a drop of tear fell from my right eye. I didn’t...I couldn’t die. Perhaps, I was living a worthless life, but for the sake of my younger brother, Mason, I couldn’t die yet.

He grabbed the pocket knife from the table, with a determined look on his face, unfeeling towards my incessant pleas for him to show mercy, and my cries that depicted the agony rooted deep within me.

Cackling like a wizard, he brandished the knife in front of me, and as he brought it closer, my heart began to beat ten times more than usual, with fear pricking me all over. I couldn’t even find the words to continue pleading with him to spare my life, as my teeth chattered and my body kept trembling, perceiving that he wasn’t joking around when he declared he’d be the one to put an end to my life.

“Before you die, I guess it’s proper that you know that you were quite good in bed. I’ll miss your cowgirl position,” He said, placing the sharp edge of the knife against my throat.

“Guess I should have been a horse rider in the country side, then. If I had, I’d have never met someone as pathetic and hopeless as you,” I said, deciding against wasting the short time I had left, trying to make an inconsiderate and abusive loser come to his senses.

My statement angered him all the more, and with all the strength he possessed, he intensified the pressure the knife had against my throat, and began to slit it slowly, with a look of triumph written all over his face.

Little drops of blood began to trickle down slowly, staining my white dress, and tears filled up my eyes, as I saw my life flash right in front of my eyes.

“Harmony. Miss Winters,” I heard someone call, as if trying to revive an already lost soul.

I began to struggle for my life, as my name kept on being repeated. I wanted to answer, but I was choking, as my life was getting snuffed out of me, without apology.

“Miss Winters!” The voice called, this time, firmer and stronger.

I jolted out of my imagination, with my hand around my neck, as I coughed out loudly.

“Are you okay?” The person asked.

I looked up, still trembling in fear, as my eyes met Kaitlyn's eyes, who looked at me, with worry being the only expression I could read on her face.

“I...I am okay,” I managed to say, heaving a deep sigh, that showed how relieved I was that what I had been experiencing hadn’t happened in reality.

“Mr Mateo called. He wants to know if you remember the date you have with his son,” She said.

“Shoot! I almost forgot. What’s the time?” I asked, packing my stuff into my bag, in a frenzied state.

“You need not worry. You still have twenty more minutes,” She said, with a smile plastered on her face.

“What the... How come you didn’t inform me earlier enough?” I asked, throwing the blame at her.

“I didn’t know I had to do that. I’m sorry,” She apologised.

“Save your apologies for later,” I said, standing up to my feet, picking up my bag, as I straightened my dress. “There’s no way I’m going to make it back home, and then, to the fancy restaurant he’s taking me to in time. I had hoped to go home in order to change into something better, but that won’t be possible anymore,” I said, placing my hands on my waist.

“This outfit you’re putting on seems a whole lot beautiful to be worn out on a date. I see no reason why you should go home,” Kaitlyn said.

“You think so?” I asked, staring down at the outfit, thinking about what she had said.

“I know so, although you might want to take off the jacket,” She replied, with confidence ringing in her tone of voice.

“I see,” I said, then, took off the jacket.

It was a red body-con dress, which was sleeveless, and had a slit just by my left thigh. Black silhouette heels graced my feet, and my long ebony hair had been packed in a ponytail.

Kaitlyn was right. The dress was indeed fit for my first real date with Sean Mateo, my boyfriend of four months. Although we had met each other in person about six months ago, during his father’s birthday, we had agreed to be in a relationship during a video call.

He was the sweetest guy I had ever met. He took my number from his father, and when he returned to France, we started talking little by little, till we couldn’t stay without having a conversation with each other everyday. We had a long distance relationship, which was blissful, and now that he was in the same city as I was in the United States of America, I couldn’t help but smile at how much more blissful our relationship would be.

“Miss Winters,” Kaitlyn called.

Once again, I was drawn out of my thoughts. At least, what had gotten me lost this time around was a good imagination, and not one of a despicable maniac, who had died four years ago, and had no power to torment me like he used to in the past. I had put an end to that psychopath. He promised to kill me, but I woke up everyday, relishing at the fact that he could do me no harm, because I had made sure of that.

“You should also leave your hair down,” Kaitlyn suggested.

“Okay. Hold the mirror for me, would you?” I asked, giving her a small hand mirror from one of the drawers.

I let my straight ebony hair glide down my back, and combed it, so that it rested smoothly all the way to my waist. The right part of the hair was tucked in nicely at the back of my ear, while the left part hung down in front of my face, giving me a classy look.

Next, I applied powder and a red lipstick on my lips, with mascara on my long dark eyelashes, feeling thankful that I always carried around a mini makeup kit in my handbag.

“How many minutes do I have left?” I asked, smacking my lips, as I stared into the mirror, admiring how beautiful I looked.

“About twelve minutes left,” Kaitlyn responded.

“Oh wow. The drive to the restaurant should be ten minutes, if there isn’t any traffic, of course. I might not be late, or I might be a little late. Not bad. I am sure he wouldn’t mind waiting a little bit. Now, how do I look?” I asked.

“Splendid,” She uttered, with a smile on her face.

“I know,” I told her, with a wink, and began to walk out of the office, with a confident smile.

“Enjoy your date,” She called out loud.

“I certainly will. Please, send in my schedule for tomorrow via my email address,” l told her, opening the door.

“Will do,” She said.

I didn’t give a response to that, and just closed the door behind me, deciding to take the elevator, so as not to waste the time I didn’t even have.

No one else was getting into the elevator, and I began to feel skeptical about going into it. I wasn’t always claustrophobic, but ever since I was kept in a very dark room just waiting for the day I died, it became my greatest fear. It always felt like I was choking when I was in an elevator, and that a gun would be fired at me immediately the doors finally opened.

I never dared to step into one alone, and as my heart raced in fear, I decided to just take the stairs, in case I suffocated being all alone and trapped in a confined space.

As I turned around, I bumped into someone, someone I guessed was about stepping into the elevator, but whose footsteps I hadn’t heard since my mind had been clouded with other thoughts.

“Watch it, will you?” He asked.

I quickly staggered backwards, pulling away from him. “I’m sorry,” I apologised, sincerely.

Seeing the displeased look on his face, I decided to just go ahead with my plan of taking the stairs, thinking it unwise to stay in the same elevator with him. Yes! I bumped into him by mistake, but was that enough reason for him to be looking at me like I was a serial killer? He could go to hell for all I care; I didn’t need his company.

I apologised again, and began walking away, when his strong firm hand grabbed my wrist, making me halt at once, feeling as confused as I could possibly be.

It was impossible to free myself from his grip, and my heart began to race as I looked up to meet his stone-cold impenetrable gaze. He wasn’t smiling, and I could smell trouble looming, and the time ticking. My date was waiting, but I was stuck here, with a sinister and grim-looking individual that couldn’t accept apologies, and surely had to work on his anger issues.

POV: Rhys Anderson

She looked at me as though she was scared of me. I usually had that impression on people the first time we laid eyes on each other, and I enjoyed being afraid of. It was a beautiful feeling to see people’s hearts thump loudly just because of your presence, and to perceive fear emitting through their system.

“What’s wrong with you?” She asked, after a few seconds of sizing me up with her eyes.

“Take a wild guess,” I retorted, gesturing with my neck.

“Please, let me go. I really need to be somewhere right now,” She said.

Seeing a few people walk past, I decided to give in to her request before someone saw me and thought that I was molesting her. These days, women were good at twisting stories just to suit themselves, and that didn’t bode well for me or my career.

I freed my grip from her hand, and she immediately rubbed her wrist, giving me the “if looks could kill" look, but I was less concerned about that.

“Thanks for letting me go. I was starting to think that you are mentally deranged,” She said, and made a move as though she wanted to leave.

I scoffed. “I’m sorry, Miss whatever's your name, but you aren’t leaving this place till you do something about my shirt. You would stay back and do something to fix my shirt if you want either of us to leave this place today,” I declared, giving her a cold hard gaze.

She appeared dumbfounded, then rolled her eyes. “I already apologised for bumping into you, Mr anger issues. I don’t think I have to do anything about your shirt, simply because I might have roughened it unintentionally,” She said, still not getting the point.

“Roughened? You believe this is because you ruined my perfectly good ironed shirt?” I retorted.

“Of course, I believe so. If you must know, however, you are simply overreacting. What do you expect me to do about your shirt? Get you a new one? Ask a drycleaner to iron it for you?” She asked, then suppressed a laugh as she looked at me as though I was a ridiculous piece of shit.

“You can let it out, you know. Laugh if you must, but I am damn serious about this whole situation,” I said, looking at her with disdain.

A look of realisation suddenly washed her face. “Sorry, do you suffer from OCD? You don’t like being touched or not being neat? Is that it?” She asked.

I couldn’t help but chuckle mildly. The girl was obviously insane and she was really good at pretending not to know why I was presently pissed off. She acted like she was innocent, but having met a lot of criminals in my short lifetime on earth, I knew she was not that innocent.

When she saw I didn’t reply to her absurd question, she joined in my chuckling, and stopped when I stopped, giving her a strange look.

“That’s it, right? You suffer from OCD. I’m sorry about that but I didn’t know. I respect all people – those with illnesses and those without illnesses. It’s okay to not be okay, and since you’ve explained yourself to me now, I get why you’re so pissed off because I touched your body by mistake. I’ll talk to my personal assistant and she’ll get you a new shirt in no time. Hold on, please,” She said, bringing out her phone from her bag.

Immediately the phone was in her hand, I snatched it away from her.

“What the...”

“I don’t suffer from OCD, you nutcase. Can’t you see the damage you’ve done to my shirt?” I asked, spreading my arms out wide.

Her mouth suddenly opened wide in surprise, as she finally understood what the fuss had been about. If I didn’t see the actual shock in her eyes, I would have thought that she was just playing dumb with me, and knew exactly why I was upset that she had bumped into me.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to stain your shirt with my lipstick. It was an accident,” She apologised.

“Yes, I know it was an accident, but what are you going to do about it?” I inquired.

“Um...” She said, searching her bag frantically for something; something useful hopefully.

After what seemed like ages, she brought out a piece of tissue paper from her bag, then she attempted to use it to clean off the “kiss" stain her bright red lipstick had done to my newly bought white shirt.

I quickly moved back, staring her with utmost disgust. “Are you insane or what?” I asked, almost at the top of my voice.

“What? You’re the one who asked me to do something about it,” She accused, pointing her index finger at me.

“Yes, I did, but did I also ask you to make it worse than it already is? Don’t you know that using a tissue paper on it is only going to ruin the shirt more? Are you a kid? Nah. Even kids are smarter than you. You’re a lunatic, that’s exactly what you are,” I said, with a sneer.

She seemed wholly frustrated, and looked like she could manage a great deal of alcohol to pull her out of her frustration. “What exactly would you have me do then? You don’t want my apology or my help with getting rid of the stain. What exactly do you want?” She demanded, without mincing words.

I was surprised that she would even ask such a question. “Aren’t you rich?’ I questioned.

“And what does that have to do with anything?” She retorted.

“It has to do with everything. You are rich, and you should do what other rich people would do in this case,” I said, winking at her.

It was then that it dawned on her exactly what I had wanted all along, and she shook her head pitiably at me. “Aren’t you ashamed of requesting for money from me?” She asked.

I shook my head, giving her a negative response. “No, I am not. I am definitely not ashamed of requesting for money from you, not even in the slightest bit,” I said.

She clicked her tongue. “Tch. A grown-up man like you asking for money from a lady like me? It’s terrible. I can only imagine how miserable your life must be,” She said, opening the designer purse she had taken out of her bag.

I stretched my neck a little bit to see how much she was counting. “It’s very miserable, milady. That’s why people like myself pray the rich offends us, so that we can get more money to support ourselves and family,” I told her.

She brought out some money, and was startled upon seeing my neck, now stretched very close to her purse. “Are you fine?” She inquired.

“Not at all, but I’ll be fine when you finally give me that money we discussed about,” I said, running my fingers through my hair.

“Remind me again why I’m giving you this money instead of paying a drycleaner to get rid of that stain on your shirt,” She said, throwing me a suspicious look.

“Obviously because I don’t have time to waste doing laundry. I have to get a new shirt and be on my way to see my fiancé’s family, and I certainly can’t go there in a wet shirt or with a shirt that has a woman’s lipstick stain on it,” I explained.

“Oh my goodness. I also have to see my boyfriend. You know what? This is five hundred dollars. Use it to get yourself a new shirt and keep the change,” She said hurriedly, not even having the time to flash another one of her glares at me.

A smile lit up my face as I was quite impressed with the amount she had handed over to me. “You may go now,” I said, as I pocketed the money and began to walk into the elevator.

Immediately, she ran after me in her black heels and waited for the elevator doors to swing open beside me.

“I thought you were taking the stairs,” I remarked.

“I changed my mind,” She retorted.

I heaved a deep sigh. “Did you change your mind because you want to kill me in the elevator for taking five hundred dollars from you?” I asked, wondering what could be her motive.

The elevator doors opened and we both stepped inside, before she could open her mouth and give me a response to my question.

She seemed pretty uncomfortable and I could see her fingers quake a bit. I leaned close to her, now understanding that she was afraid of being in elevators, and I saw her breathe in relief as she also stayed close to me.

The elevator doors swung open and we stepped out to the first floor. She didn’t even pause to tell me thanks and began to walk away immediately.

“Hey,” I called.

She stopped right in her tracks and turned around. “If this is about the question you asked earlier, then, no. I had no intention of killing you. I can’t kill a miserable person; death would be an easy way out for you. It’s best if you stay alive and have only the miseries of your life as comfort,” She said.

I was quite taken aback. “You didn’t have to be so mean. I was just surprised that you were walking away without so much as a goodbye,” I said.

“After unjustly extorting five hundred dollars from me, I should be mean to you. Goodbye, gold-digger,” She said, and began to storm off.

I wanted to pull her back and talk some sense into her. However, my phone began to ring and seeing the name on the Caller ID, I knew it was a call I could never ignore.

“Goodbye, lipstick girl,” I called after her.

The ringtone from my phone kept on ringing out loud, and my fingers quaked as I made to answer the call. I always felt this way whenever he called because he usually wanted one thing or another from me.

Despite the fact that I had tried to free myself from him countless times, he kept bouncing back like a bad coin. I wanted that chapter to close, but the story wasn’t over yet.

POV: Harmony Winters

I pulled the car over at the parking lot and almost yelled in frustration after seeing the time on my phone. I was thirty minutes late to my very first real date with Sean Mateo, my boss' son and the owner of my modelling agency, thanks to the guy with anger issues that I had met at the elevator.

How was I to face him now? He was such a sweet guy, and perhaps, he’d understand why I had come late, but I still felt pretty awful about coming so late, thereby wasting the time of a very busy man. First impressions matter, and being late was not the kind of impression I was hoping to make on our first date.

My phone began to ring, and when I checked, it was he who was dialling my line. I bit my lower lip, as thoughts flooded my head considering what I was to do presently.

Deciding to brace myself up, I just ended the call since I was going to enter inside soon enough, seeing as I didn’t have any other choice. I unhooked my seatbelt, then stepped out of the car with my bag in one hand, then shut the door of the car before cat-walking into the restaurant.

After a brief moment, I saw him at the table which he had reserved for both of us for dinner that evening. He was busy with his phone, and heaving a sigh, I approached his table.

Immediately I got there, he noticed my presence, then looked up immediately wearing a broad smile on his face.

“You finally decided to bestow me with the honour of seeing you, Miss Winters,” He said, with the smile still plastered on his face.

“Hi. I am so sorry that I came late,” I apologised.

He waved his hand, brushing aside the apology. “Oh, it’s okay. It’s my fault for coming too early, you didn’t do anything wrong,” He said, then gestured with his hand for me to sit.

I drew the chair out, then sat on it, placing my bag by my side. “You’re so sweet,” I noted.

“What would I gain by not being sweet to a sweet lady like yourself?” He asked, still smiling.

I chuckled, now relaxed and relieved that all my worries and concerns had just been for nothing. Sean Mateo was a good and considerate person, and he had no issues whatsoever. At least, none that I had noticed yet apart from his deep love of business, since I was still studying him.

He called the waiter, stating that we were ready to order what we wanted to eat. On his table was a glass of water, which he had bought to pass time while he waited for me, and with the rumbling in my stomach, I couldn’t wait to have something to eat.

The waiter came to our table to take our order, with a notepad and a pen in his hand.

I looked at the menu we had been presented with, and weighed my options out of the many dishes that they had to offer.

“What do you think?” He asked.

“There are so many options to choose from, and I can’t decide,” I said, with a chuckle.

“You can order all if that’s what you want,” He said.

“Oh, no. I’m not a glutton,” I said, laughing gently.

He smiled at me, then looked up at the waiter. “While the lady still ponders over what to eat, I have already made my decision. I’ll have Cajun shrimps and Chicken Pasta,” He said.

“I guess I’ll just have the same thing, then,” I said, with a shrug of my shoulders, as I handed over the menu back to the waiter.

“You wouldn’t mind a bottle of red wine, would you?” He asked.

“You know red wine’s my favourite,” I said, smiling at him.

“Okay then. You heard the lady,” He said to the waiter, who promised to bring in our order as soon as possible before leaving.

“So, how is work?” He asked, setting aside his phone.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Stressful as usual,” I said.

“I bet it isn’t as stressful as mine. All you have to do is take pictures and bargain your price, am I wrong?” He asked, in his usual condescending manner, but I knew he meant no harm.

“Sean, it is more than just taking pictures,” I said, with a small laugh.

“You say that all the time, but I don’t get it. All you do is take pictures for various brands, so how come that is stressful?” He asked.

“Well, have you ever considered the fact that I don’t want to smile on some days and advertise someone else’s products? Also, it is tiring that I...”

“The food is here,” He said, cutting me off as the waiter stopped by our table with two trays, containing the food we had ordered for.

“They are quite fast,” I said, brushing aside the little pinch of annoyance that had embraced me with him suddenly interrupting what I was saying.

“Yes, they are. I have an eye for good restaurants,” He said, then began to dig into his food.

“As I was saying...”

“Did you read the newspapers today? The stock exchange market’s shares are on the increase, and it’s not a good time to purchase shares, which I was actually thinking of doing before I changed my mind,” He said, as he poured the wine in his wine glass, leaving mine empty.

Oh wow! That came in as a very big shock, but it was another one of those red flags that I was willing to overlook. He was intelligent, smart, business-oriented, sweet, calm, and most importantly, he was wealthy and I had his father to thank for pulling me out of poverty.

I didn’t say anything, and began to munch my food slowly.

“I changed my mind because the best time to buy is when the shares are slipping and everyone’s withdrawing theirs. What people don’t get is the fact that the stock exchange market will always be there, and just as it has risen again, no matter how low it crumbles, it will always rise. When next the market falls, I’ll purchase a lot of shares so that my profit will be tremendously high when it increases again. What do you think?” He asked, sipping wine from his glass.

“I think that it is a great idea,” I said, absent-mindedly.

“Of course, it is. Out of all four of my father’s son, I’m the smartest and most strategic when it comes to business,” He said.

“I can see that,” I noted, now pouring myself some wine.

“So, how does it feel to be turning twenty five soon?” He asked, finally focusing back on his date.

I chuckled. “Why do you say soon? My birthday’s not till another one month and six days,” I reminded him.

“I’m aware, but as you can see, the year is running really fast. Before you know it, July will be here and you’ll be twenty five,” He said, laying emphasis on the age.

I shrugged. “When that time comes, I know I will be ready,” I said, with a small smile.

“I hope you will be. I have planned a surprise for you that day,” He said to me.

“I don’t really like celebrating my birthdays. Worst still, I hate surprises,” I told him, the smile slowly disappearing from my face.

“Well, it is not as if I demanded for your opinion on this subject. It’s my girlfriend’s birthday, and I am going to make it very special for her, whether she likes it or not,” He said, then returned his attention back to his food.

I could see that his intentions were genuine, although I would have preferred it a hundred times more if he could just respect my decisions for once and let my birthday be uneventful.

With every year that got added to my years spent living on this earth, a year also got added to the day I had cleansed the world of a pathetic soul, who was better off without soiling the earth and contaminating it more than it already was.

“Don’t you like the food?” Sean asked.

“I...I do,” I replied, looking up from my meal.

“Then, stop picking on your food, or I would assist you in eating it,” He said, jokingly.

I laughed out heartily, thanking my stars for the day I had met Sean Mateo.

He was a great guy, who could do much better by letting me speak, paying attention to me and laughing at my jokes, instead of coming up with absurd conspiracy theories, cutting me off without even realising it, and bothering me with his many business stuff that I really didn’t care about.

However, with him, I knew that my safety was guaranteed. Not only would I never suffer again, I was also not going to be treated like trash or hurt by any man. People say that everyone has their flaws, and even though being with someone who referred to me as “Miss Winters" and was always so serious about life could be exhausting at times, it was way better than being stuck with a psychopath, who could kill you because of the slightest mistake.

A memory of him flashed through my mind, and I found myself twisting the fork in my hands, as I tried to act and remain normal. It was almost four years now, and as the anniversary of what I had done drew closer, my heartbeat raced faster with the fear that things may not just pass by smoothly like it had done in the last four years.

This year, there was this gut feeling that nudged at the back of my mind that as much as I had preferred things to remain quiet, a lot of drama was going to unfold.