From the Smoke Club to the Ridge, the Smoke Screen Unveils (Part 7) | 13 November 2024, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2555 | Prompt: prize idiot

Part 6

Melvin's dead, I assumed. I didn't stop for a moment to consider otherwise. I scoured the various tunnels trying to remember which one led to the outside. My hands were still tied, but adrenaline rushed through my veins, I glanced up.

There standing in the cave was Jordan, my ex-finance.

Only a short distance separated us as he ran toward me. Fearful he would finish the job Melvin started, I bent down quickly to avoid his embrace. He followed my lead and pulled me back up and into his arms.

His word vomit made no sense.

"I'm thankful you're alive. You know I love you, Tracie, don't you? Let's just sit a while. Perhaps you'd like something to drink? I believe I smell a pot of freshly brewed tea."

The excitement on Jordan's face scared me more than Melvin's evil countenance. No mention of Melvin or the fact that my hands were tied. He acted as though we were in our apartment getting ready for nice, quiet evening. I'd had enough of his wild delusions, so I exploded.

"Please stop it!" I yelled, although I couldn't help but think of the irony of our situation. An engaged couple having their last drink together. But in this instance, the fiance wanted me dead.*

I quickly scoured the cave for any weapons he may have brought. Not spotting any, I immediately decided on another tactic. "I'm thirsty." Smiling to gain composure, I leaned my head to the side against his shoulder, then snuggled closer.

"Sure, Tracie, anything. Let's go back into the cave."*

"NO!" I shouted. "It's creepy in here, and I feel nauseated. Take me outside and away from Melvin's sight."

Jordan froze. I could tell allowing me to leave the cave wasn't in his plans. Instead, he loosely tied my feet then rose to leave. The moment he disappeared into the tunnel, I struggled with the rope around my ankles. I managed to rub my shoes against the rocks until they slipped off taking my socks with them. I was now barefoot. My pulse raced as I heard Jordan's footsteps, so I swung my feet around and placed them behind me so he wouldn't notice.

As promised, he returned quickly, hands full with unfamiliar items in addition to the coffee pot and weapons belonging to Melvin or them both.

He poured a cup of tea, then sat close on the cavern floor. Silence fell between us as I drank the hot liquid while tracing the structures that hung from the cavern ceiling. My stomach churned.

To distract him, I talked in a low, cracked voice. "Why aren't you dead? Melvin thrust an axe in your spine. I saw you drop dead to the ground outside bleeding out."* Jordan merely smiled explaining that Melvin was dramatic and loved role playing; that he'd never harm him. It was all a joke to entertain their guests.*

That confession was more horrible that the actual killings. Then he assured me that Melvin now lay dead assuring me that he'd not allow him to harm me.

Before he could finish, my ears perked as suddenly, in the distance, a faint sound of dogs barking grew louder. I could sense they were getting close. And the sound wasn't friendly barking. It reminded me of cadaver dogs.

Instantly, he jumped to his feet, toppling over the teapot as he bolted toward one of the tunnels. In a flash, he returned with a weapon. But I was waiting with the hot liquid in the teapot. I dashed it in his face, stood up with the help of the wall, hit him with the pot, then ran barefoot screaming toward the sound of the barking dogs.

By the time Jordan caught up with me, two canines from out of nowhere rushed toward him, barking, then tearing at his clothes and flesh. He'd no choice but to release my arm. In a flurry of commotion, I didn't wait to see who accompanied the dogs. Someone yelled my name. But I just ran until I reached the entrance to the cave.

Once outside, I kept running.

Now Part 7:

The weather outside was balmy and calm, unlike the atmosphere in the dark and foreboding cave. I continued running until reaching the clearing back to where it all began. No sounds rushed toward me from behind me, so I paused long enough to look back.

The faint barking of dogs drew closer. Fear rose up from the pit of my stomach. Scouring the park, I frantically searched for signs of Jordan. Perhaps the dogs were chasing him. That is, if he managed to escape their vicious attack.

So I limped toward the only place in close proximity in my mind that felt safe.

Through sheer determination, I reached the front of my lake cabin. In a few weeks, it would no longer belong to me. But for today, it would serve as my sanctuary.

Bolting the front and back doors, I proceeded to the sitting room windows and repeated the procedure, surrounded by a false sense of security.

I still had no way to call for help. All utilities were operating, except for the land line. It was a good thing I'd decided to maintain a few utilities as the cabin was under management preparing for an open house.

At the kitchen window above the sink I'd stand there many times over the years admiring the verdant landscape. Not today. I stared blankly down the path I escaped twice from. Once from Melvin, and now Jordan.

A thousand questions prowled through my thoughts. After several long moments, I glanced down at the open wounds on my wrists caused by the suffocating ropes. Tears refused to fall.

With cool water, I washed away the blood. Had I been lucky enough to escape, blood would be dripping instead from my lifeless body as Jordan was only moments away from ending it.

Now was not the time for self-reflection. But my racing thoughts settled on the question of the dogs and who brought them to the cave.

The most puzzling question though was who suspected, then discovered my whereabouts?

Remembering my movements from that morning, I realized I'd left a note for the detective working with me on the missing persons murder case. I couldn't recall the second I knew that Jordan could be a suspect. I alerted Detective Morrison. Perhaps he discovered additional evidence and decided to warn me, despite my insistence that I was more than capable of handling my safety.

Why then did I agree to return to the lake cabin with Jordan?

My actions, I reasoned could be the cause of another innocent victim. But Detective Morrison brought canines. Whether he was alone, I didn't stay in the cave to determine.

Better still. How could I have been so utterly stupid to live with a man for over a year and not suspect even one moment his true unnatural self?

A killer of woman, men, and children; but mostly women.

A prize idiot I was, if I say so myself. I was certain Jordan would agree.

Flashes of the man who originally attacked me crossed my eyes. Melvin now lay in the cave dead, according to Jordan. The mind games the two of them played on their victims unnerved me. I wanted, but wouldn't allow myself, to believe the monster was dead, even at Jordan's insistence.

But at that moment, I needed to survive and locate my mobile phone. No food. Only water in the utility cabinet, so I drank my fill not realizing the thirst.

About thirty minutes later as the afternoon faded into evening with still a skimmer of light, I woke with a throbbing headache unaware I'd dozed off.

I sat ramrod straight on the couch. That sound wasn't a dream. A loud knock again at the front door sent my pulse racing. Before I could gather my thoughts, a single voice shouted out several times.

"It's Detective Morrison, Tracie. Everything's fine. I've got the situation under control. Let me in."

With no thought of deception, I rushed to the door, peered out the hole, then opened it. Detective Morrison stood in front of me.

As soon as the door opened, the detective fell to the floor halfway inside. Behind him was Jordan. He's used his ever reliable weapon of choice: the axe. And the weapon was still lodged in Detective Morrison's spine.

I watched in paralyzing horror as Detective Morrison's body lay within inches of my feet.

Jordan's nostrils flared. His fist clenched as I watched a splash of anger cross his face. It was when his lips curled over his teeth that he spoke with venom in his voice.

"Hello Tracie. Aren't you happy to see me? If not, there's no use in attempting to flee. This time, I won't allow you to escape. Don't you know by now that we're bound for life."

[to be continued]

For my theme, I was inspired by and utilized the @daily.prompt's publishing of:

13 November 2024, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2555: prize idiot.

For your convenience if you'd like to return to the beginning of "From the Smoke Club to the Ridge, the Smoke screen Unveils" drama, I set out below Chapters 1 - 5:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Good luck everyone with whatever your endeavors.

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English is my native language.
If translation included, I use DeepL to assist my readers.
Thanks for your patience an understanding.