Kayla

1 Kayla pulled her suitcase down the stairs. Her heart was thumping against her ribs; she’d been ecstatic ever since John had asked her to stay at his lake house for the weekend. She had met John at the BlueSoft Christmas party four months ago. Her work colleagues had warned her that he wasn’t yet over the tragic death of his wife Melinda, that he would drag her down into his misery and depression, that he wasn’t ready to date again but, when around her, John was a different man. He talked to her as if he had no troubles in the world; he laughed at her jokes and smiled with a glint in his eyes from behind his computer monitor every time she passed by his desk. Then, a month after the party, she had returned to her desk after lunch to find a red rose and a note: “The Olive Garden. 9pm. Tonight.” Kayla had giggled to herself like a teen on her first date, and took a deep breath as the sweet smell of the rose made its way through her nostrils. She had looked across the office to find John looking at her with a look that said Please say yes. She nodded and the look on John’s face turned to relief. They had been dating through the three months that followed. At first it was slow, but Kayla wanted more; she enjoyed John’s company. No, not enjoyed. Loved. And her love had grown from John’s company to John himself. But whenever Kayla wondered whether she should tell him, whether she should bring it up, she decided against it. She didn’t want to scare him away, especially after what he had been through. Outside John honked again. “I’m coming!” she shouted, and hurried quickly out the door onto the street. “I thought I told you to stay light,” John said nodding towards the suitcase she was dragging behind her. “It’s just a weekend.” Kayla stopped and, blushing, she lowered her head as she continued towards his Mondeo. She opened the back door and hauled her suitcase onto the back seat with a grunt, then climbed up front. “I’m a girl John, I need this stuff,” she said, half jokingly and half justifying her heavierthan-needed suitcase. John laughed, then pushed the blonde hair out of her face and gave her a kiss. “All set?” John asked and Kayla nodded. “Then we’re off!” The car’s engine turned on with a low rumble, and they made their way towards the lake house as Kayla drifted off to sleep. It was Friday afternoon, and they had a great weekend ahead of them; much, much greater than they imagined it would be.

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2 A soft nudge woke Kayla up. “Honey we’re home,” John said smiling. The sun was setting and the red-orange light flooded the car as John pulled over beneath a large oak tree. As Kayla got out of the car, still groggy and yawning from her sleep, John pulled his bag and her suitcase off the back seat then threw her the keys. “It’s the blue key,” John said as Kayla fondled around the keys trying to guess which one opened the front door. “I knew that.” She smiled and opened. Kayla was first to go in. “This is beautiful John,” was all she could muster as she went from the living room into the bedroom, then the bathroom. The lake house was bigger than she had anticipated and even though it consisted only of four rooms, every room was large, spacious, and the view out of the floor-to-ceiling windows was truly beautiful. Kayla stood motionless in front of one of the windows. Outside, the sun was soon out of view as it set behind the lake and the last rays of the day sparkled over the water filling the house’s ceiling and walls with random reflections of light from the lake. She looked at John then ran to him. He embraced her and whispered in her ear: “These are going to be the best two days of my life.” She let her head rest against his chest and when he tried to push her away – “The bags aren’t gonna unpack themselves you know!” – she simply hugged him tighter. “Just one more second…” she said softly. John smiled. He always did.

3 The bath was warm, perfect. Soft music was playing from the radio on the washing machine. Kayla let herself sink slightly deeper letting the water sooth her body. Her mind wandered off on its own, imagining the two days to come. Was it true what John had said to her earlier? These are going to be the best two days of my life. Yes... maybe he was coming round. Maybe he was starting to feel for her, giving her the attention she deserved. Maybe things would turn out better than her friends had thought they would. And what did they know? As far as she was concerned, maybe they were jealous of her. Why not? John was intelligent, successful, funny and his body was to die for. So what if he was still in love with his wife? His precious Melinda? She knew that would pass. She turned her head slightly towards the sexy red lingerie she had bought for the occasion, folded neatly on the washing machine where the radio was, now softly playing a Coldplay song she’d never heard before. Melinda would be the last thing on his mind, she thought. Heck, after this weekend was over he’d forget he was ever— Page 2 of 12

Suddenly, Beethoven’s Fifth blared through the radio. Kayla leapt in the bath, startled by the unexpected rise in the volume; water splashed all over the floor. She turned around and saw the radio’s volume cranked up to its limit. What on earth? She could barely hear John shouting from the bedroom “Kayla? Have you gone deaf?” She rose out of the bath, walked to the radio and switched it off. “I’m sorry,” she told John, walking close to the door so he could hear her without having to shout. “This radio’s messed up.” Despite her efforts to conceal it Kayla was still shaken. The radio wasn’t messed up – she knew – the volume knob had been turned. She looked around the bathroom, but there was obviously no-one else but herself. She shrugged it off as a freak accident and started to dry herself with a towel and by the time she was finished she had calmed down. The thoughts of the incident were quickly replaced by other thoughts as she put on her lingerie and wrapped herself in a red silk gown. She was walking towards the mirror brushing her hair when something caught her eye. No, not something, someone. The door was ajar and through the opening Kayla saw John move, his face shadowed by the door itself. “John? I told you to wait,” she said as she started to turn but what she saw in the reflection then paralyzed her. John moved, and the door’s shadow was lifted off his face. And then she realized, it wasn’t John… it wasn’t even a man. The reflection had changed, somehow shifted. It was a woman now, cold blue eyes gazing directly at her own. Her hair was blonde, falling raggedly over her shoulders. And then Kayla saw blood. Blood on the woman’s face, blood on the woman’s white gown. Kayla turned, but she saw no woman there. The door was closed as it was ever since she came in here. She turned back to the mirror and she saw nothing. Only her own eyes – half in disbelief, half in terror – then the latter half took over. She rushed towards the door. Was this some kind of sick joke? She turned the door’s knob but it wouldn’t open. Click, click! Nothing. The lock. Yes, she had locked the door on her way in. Kayla turned the key and opened the door and as she stepped out into the bedroom she realized: The door had been locked the whole time. John was lying on his back, waiting for Kayla to get out of the bathroom. But instead of the show he had been promised Kayla burst through the door, obviously terrified, her eyes full of tears and her hands trembling. “Kay? What’s wrong? What happened?! Are you all right?” Kayla thought it was obvious she wasn’t all right; she wasn’t all right at all. Kayla fell to her knees and hugged John’s legs, tears flowing. John pulled her up, wiped her tears, and asked her again. This time Kayla explained – muttering between sobs – what had happened in the bathroom, the sudden rise in the radio volume, the woman she had seen in the mirror, the blood, the locked door, lots of blood. Tears came again. “Kayla, I don’t know what you saw, but there’s no-one else around here.” Kayla looked around her and John’s arms around her made her feel safer. But her tears didn’t stop, and neither did she think that John was right. Page 3 of 12

“And you said it yourself, the door was locked. Maybe it was just a reflection,” John said, obviously trying to comfort her. Kayla nodded but in her heart she knew he was wrong. She tried hard to recompose herself, and only after several minutes did she manage to stop crying. “See now,” John said. “Everything’s going to be ok. There’s no one else in here. Just you and me.” “Could we just walk around the house? I need to convince myself,” she asked. So John, holding her hand tight and her body close, walked her to the bathroom. Kayla rejected, and didn’t want to go in. It took John a lot of pulling, a lot of sweet talk, and a lot of patience to finally convince her to step into the bathroom. Kayla knew what John was thinking, she knew she looked like she should be locked in an asylum. But she knew what she saw, and that woman wasn’t fruit of her imagination. Kayla looked slowly around the bathroom, every second expecting that woman to appear from nowhere. But no woman appeared, and the radio remained switched off. “Nothing here.” John held Kayla’s hand tightly, and it comforted her. She walked a step behind John, as he led her back out into the bedroom and into the living room. He switched the lights on, and he looked around with her. She loved him for it and she slowly began to calm down. Then they walked together into the kitchen but this time Kayla walked by John, not behind him. The kitchen was clean and clearly empty – to Kayla’s relief –, after all they had eaten nothing since they arrived. Kayla rested her head on John’s shoulder and she felt somewhat better. Maybe it was the warmth of his body against hers that relaxed her and she smiled. “Nothing in here either. We’re all alone.” A sudden flash of light burst through the open windows followed by an explosive BANG! Only then did John and Kayla realize it had started to rain. Heavily. Another lightning bolt struck, closer than the last. And when the flash of light disappeared they realized it had taken the lake house’s lights with it. Kayla moved closer to John, holding his hand tighter, shivering with the cold. Kayla wrapped her gown around her body as tight as possible while John fumbled around the room looking for the switch. Their eyes were still blinded by the lightning and each bolt had them starting from square one, making it harder to maneuver in the pitch black kitchen. When he finally found it, John flipped the switch, but nothing happened. He tried twice, three times, but there was no response. “Ok, wait here. This is nothing. It must have been the lightning. I’m gonna go check the main. I know this place better than you do. Stay here.” Kayla let out a whimper. “Look, I won’t be long. Just wait here, there’s no need for the two of us to go and I wouldn’t want you to get wet. You can tell me if the light comes back on or not. I’ll be outside, just beneath this window.” “Please don’t take too long. I’m scared,” was all Kayla managed to say as she sat down against the wall. Her voice had gone down to a whisper, barely audible even in the silence. Page 4 of 12

“I won’t, I promise.” John turned around and walked out of the room. The door closed slowly behind him and another lightning bolt struck. Kayla sat in the darkness, eyes darting from wall to wall, as she waited in silence. She hugged her legs closer to her chest. The fridge made the only noise in the room, a low hum that just made the silence even more menacing. And then there was the heavy rain outside. Any minute now, she thought. Any minute. Then an unexpected click – like a key turning in a lock – broke the silence. “John?” Kayla stood up alarmed, then she started walking slowly, feeling her way across the wall towards where she thought the door was. “John, is that you? This isn’t funny.” Fridge. Cupboard. Knives. Wall. Lightning bolt. Again she was blinded as she turned and followed the next wall. This is where the door is. Another cupboard. Closer. Drawers. This is it. Wall. Wall? Did I pass by the door without realizing? She backtracked. Wall. Drawers. Wait. This was where Kayla remembered the door to be. This was where she’d seen John leaving the room only moments earlier. When the next flash of light struck she inspected the room. Everywhere around her was kitchen furniture and appliances. The microwave. The table. The chairs. Right behind her though, was an empty stretch of wall. A wall which had moments before been a door. Kayla ran to the wall, both fists banging against it. “JOHN?!! JOHN!!” But she got no reply, only her own echo in a room with no door and the low hum of the fridge. Her fists hurt. She shouted again, and banged her fists against the wall until she could no longer feel the flesh on the side of her hands. She turned towards the windows and as she did what moonlight was seeping through the glass disappeared, like a switch being turned off. One by one the three windows turned black, darkening the room until there was no trace of light left. Kayla shivered in the cold and she leant backwards, resting against the wall where the door had been. She gave up all hope; she hugged herself and let herself slide to the floor. The rain outside stopped, and the low hum of the fridge diminished until she could no longer hear it. She was expecting the blonde woman to appear again, almost on the verge of calling out to her, to end this right there and then when the lights came back on. Kayla shut her eyes, momentarily blinded by the change from complete darkness. She opened her eyes, slowly at first, then faster. Faster still when she realized this wasn’t the room she had been in seconds before.

4 John walked briskly, keeping as close to the house as possible but the heavy rain drenched him from head to toe in seconds. He thought about Kayla, What was that business about the bathroom all about? He shook the thought out of his head and his walk turned into a jog. He Page 5 of 12

turned the corner towards the wooden fence that surrounded the back garden and approached the fuse box. There was a shovel resting against the house’s wall that he had forgotten to put inside after his last visit here with Melinda. Thoughts of their last holiday came to him and he fought them back. That weekend was the last weekend they had spent together. They were driving back when the truck hit them head-on; drunk driver didn’t even get a scratch. He’d brought Kayla here in an attempt to get over it. The incident had happened two years ago and it was now time to let it go and live on with his life. He opened the fuse box and found the main switch. The circuit breaker had been triggered when that lightning bolt struck so close to the house, preventing further damage to appliances, but also switching off all electricity in the house. He noticed the main switch was down and pushed it back up. Almost instantly, the kitchen lights came back on. He looked through the window but Kayla was nowhere to be seen; the kitchen door was open and he could see light coming from the other room. He assumed Kayla had gone out of the kitchen to check that the other rooms’ electricity was working as well and started walking back to the front door. As he did, he heard small, quick footsteps coming towards him from behind the corner. Then a low growl. He stopped for a second and was about to continue when what made the growl turned the corner and faced him. It was a Rottweiler, snarling and growling, it’s back arched and its hind legs coiled as if ready to pounce any second. A dog that could easily throw John to the ground if it bumped into him or jumped up to him playfully. But this dog – it seemed to John as the obvious assumption to make – was not here to play. Oh no, this dog was here for lunch. The fierce look in its red, fiery eyes paralyzed him, and as John looked around trying to find a way to move around the dog without it ripping him to shreds first, the Rottweiler took a step forward and John took two steps back. Side-stepping to the left, John broke into a sprint, but the dog, locked onto him like a tiger locks onto the youngest deer in the herd, ran with him and, being faster, blocked John’s path. It occurred to John then that the only way out was through the dog not around it. But the fight was unbalanced; the dog had brutal teeth – it had shown them to John at least ten times through the snarls, the growls and the barks – and John only had his fists and what tactics he could muster while surprised and drenched from head to toe. John fell a few steps back, all the time holding the dog in his sights while the dog waited for an opportunity to attack. John continued to move backwards, while the dog zigzagged slowly towards him, left, right and then left again. It felt to John that the dog was toying with him. But it was only when his back hit the high wooden garden fence that he completely ruled out escape as an option. There was one way out: to stand and fight. But with what? His eyes darted off the dog for a second, enough to find a possible weapon. The shovel that was resting just beneath the fuse box was close, and if he was quick enough, he thought, he’d be able to grab it before the dog ripped his throat out and made him the evening’s lunch. John’s heart was pumping adrenaline into his body and he could feel his instincts taking over. As the dog ran towards him, its mouth open, ready to bite and rip, John ran towards the Page 6 of 12

shovel. This thing is going to end in bloodshed, and I’m damn sure it’s gonna be mine if this thing gets to me before I get to that shovel. The dog stopped and snarled, turning to face John. But this time, things were slightly more even. John had managed to get his hands on the shovel, and was holding it out in front of him like a sword, his legs spread open for balance, ready to swing and hit whatever came towards him – be it man, woman, or dog alike. And when the dog ran towards him John kept true to his resolution. As the Rottweiler came closer it seemed to become larger and more dangerous. John kept his eyes open, locked onto the beast charging towards him and coiled his arms back. Then he let swing the shovel in a wide arch, the dog leapt towards John’s throat and the metal hit the dog square in the jaw. But instead of the impact that John had braced himself for, the shovel passed right through the Rottweiler. John lost his balance and fell forward, his face flat on the wet ground and his shovel slipped out of his hands. When John looked up the Rottweiler wasn’t there and he quickly stood up and ran to grab the shovel. A gust of wind and rain blew against him and the dog appeared between him and the shovel. It snarled and growled but remained between John and the shovel blocking John from his only weapon and his only escape route. The dog charged. John tried to move away but the dog was faster. Its teeth dug deep into John’s thigh and pain ripped through his body like a thousand needles. John fell to the ground and the Rottweiler snapped its jaw into his thigh again. Then John’s left arm, ripping a chunk of meat and muscle out of it. His last strength abandoned him and he lay there on the ground helpless, the rain slapping him in the face. The dog gnarled and stepped back. John opened his eyes, expecting the dog to attack again, and that would be the end of that. “John?” John looked vaguely to where the voice was coming from. A blonde woman was walking towards him in the rain, white gown flowing in the wind. The Rottweiler ran towards her and walked by her side as she moved closer to John. He closed his eyes, and let his head back down. “John. You’re not going to die from the dog’s wounds.” John could barely hear her, and the voice sounded distorted to him. He felt like he was diving under water, all noises mashed together to produce one low grumble. “I need you to do one thing for me, and that will determine whether you live to see the light of tomorrow or not.” He opened his eyes to find the blonde woman squatting beside him. As she swooped closer to his face his eyesight blurred, and his mind shut down.

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Kayla looked around the room. What she expected to be a kitchen was instead a room filled to the brim with cardboard boxes. A bulb dangling from the ceiling illuminated the large room, casting long shadows onto the walls. Kayla scurried backwards, her back hit a wall, and she stood up. She looked behind her and found a large metal door, and even though deep down she knew the door was locked she tried anyway. She was right. Kayla observed the room. Apart from the bulb, the boxes and the locked metal door there was nothing inside. No windows, no way out. The cardboard boxes, stacked high on top of each other, were numbered. It didn’t take her long to realize that what she thought were random numbers were actually dates. 15122003. 06012004. 23052005. The boxes had been stacked in sequence, but one box, smaller than the others, caught Kayla’s eye. This box was lying alone on the far end of the room, open, while all others were sealed with tape. The numbers on it were 01032007. 1st March, 2007. Kayla walked to it and as she did she looked around her. This was the last box. The last date. Inside the box were dozens of photographs. Kayla took the first and examined it closer. It was a photo of a car crash; a blue car that Kayla couldn’t recognize was smashed into the grill of a large, red truck. In the foreground she saw a body covered with a large white sheet and beneath the body there was a pool of red blood. The next three photographs were the same, but taken from different angles. The next couple of photographs were a close up of the destroyed car, the steering wheel also had blotches of dark red, so did the windscreen and the driver’s seat. As Kayla went through the photographs of the crash scene, she came upon a photo which was clearly shot earlier than the others. The body was still in the car. Her head was smashed against the steering wheel, covered in blood. Kayla continued going through the photographs and like an eerie movie the photographs played out the scene of the crash – backwards. First there came the woman hitting the steering wheel. Then the truck appeared as it moved away, photograph after photograph, until the car returned to its original shape and form. And so did the woman. Kayla went through a couple more photos then recognized her face. This was the blonde woman in the bathroom. The one responsible for all that’s happening in this house. Kayla let the photographs fall, as if suddenly realizing she was still in this strange room. She moved away from the box; slowly at first, then faster. She turned towards the metal door but something blocked her way. The blonde woman. The woman in the bathroom. The woman in the car crash. She had died in the car crash and she was now here to kill her and John. But why? What have we got to do with anything? The woman walked towards her, white gown trailing behind her. She is going to kill me, Kayla thought. This is it. Then everything went black.

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6 “Mel…? Is that…you?” John opened his eyes. He couldn’t feel his left arm, and he was sure he couldn’t walk properly after what the Rottweiler had done to him. He could barely see properly except to realize he was inside the lake house’s kitchen, sitting on a chair. But there was something worse than what a dog could ever to do him. It had occurred to him outside in the rain, seconds before his body and mind left him. Now it came back to him. “Mel?” John thought he had recognized the blonde woman’s voice when she had leant over him outside. How could he forget his wife’s voice? But it was so long ago, and the dog had done things to him which should have killed him. But what has Melinda got to do with anything?! “John. I’m surprised you still remember me.” The blonde woman walked from behind John to the other side of the table. Kayla’s vision of the blonde woman in a white gown came back to him and he shook his head, letting it drop in disappointment; he had failed another woman in his life. “So it is you. God, Melinda I’ve missed you so much!” John tried to stand up but faltered back into the chair. “Why are you doing this to me? Why us? I love you! I still do!” He wanted to add I thought you were dead but considering the circumstances he decided against it. He felt lost, battered and betrayed. There was nothing anyone else could do to him that would make him feel any worse. Melinda shushed him. She clicked her tongue and pulled a chair for herself, sitting directly across the table in front of John. “I’m amazed you haven’t realized what’s going on and I’m afraid it’s going to cost you dearly. You could have gotten out before, let me have my way with the girl, but you decided to stand with her.” She let her hand drop by her side then she lifted it back up, a handgun in her hand. She put it on the table. “Look John. I’m dead. That much is true. But my heart is still bound to you, and I will never let you go.” Melinda vanished into thin air and the hand gun vanished with her. A gust of wind blew in John’s face and Melinda reappeared by his side. Her voice was distorted, laced with sinister whispers which echoed in John’s mind. “I’m your wife John. Don’t mind all that ‘Till death do us part bullshit’. I’m your wife for eternity. Forever. And you are my husband.” Melinda leant forward and put the handgun on the table, in front of John. “What do you want me to do?! You died in that car crash. I spent the last two years mourning you… but I need—” “What you need is to do this one thing for me. It’s quite simple really.” She pointed towards the handgun. “The woman you brought here, to our lake house,” and those last words Page 9 of 12

dug deep in John’s skull, making him feel like his head was going to shatter any moment. The whispers increased, and he could hear a high-pitched noise, tearing at his mind. “This woman, Kayla, you’re replacing me with her!” Melinda’s voice boomed now with anger John had never seen and never thought humanly possible. “I’m not trying to replace you with—” He tried to retort but his words were cut short by a sudden gust as Melinda vanished into nothing again. This time she left the gun on the table. “You have one bullet in that gun.” John turned, slowly, to see Melinda standing by the door. “If you’re not going to be with me, you’re not going to be with anyone else in this world. Remember, only one bullet. If you don’t kill Kayla, you’ll be stuck here together in here until the both of you die. And you’ll still die. And no-one will come rescue you, you’re already dead to the world. Your deaths won’t be on the news, on the front pages of newspapers. You will just be two nobodies that died in a lake house. My lake house.” Then she vanished, leaving only John and the handgun and the echoing remains of the last three words. John stared at the gun. The whispers and the high-pitched sounds has left with Melinda leaving only the pain in his body, and the worse pain in his mind and heart. He had never used a gun before, and still, there was no way on Earth he was going to shoot anyone with it… especially Kayla. His thigh shot pain through his body. He could still hear the growling of the dog in his head. Or maybe it was waiting for him outside. Or maybe he was just imagining things. John gathered his last resource of energy, shot upwards, and pulling his chair from beneath him – with whatever force he could muster – smashed the chair into the window. But it had less effect on the window than it had on the chair, as it broke into wooden splinters in John’s hands the moment it touched the window. This is Melinda’s doing. So is there no way out?! Then a voice in his head said Of course there’s a way out. It’s lying on that table. It was Melinda’s voice. Kill her! John grabbed the handgun then limped towards the kitchen door. If he wasn’t going to shoot Kayla, he was at least going to use it on the Rottweiler. He walked out of the kitchen, through the living room and tried the front door. It was locked. Obviously. Melinda had made it clear enough. But John wasn’t going to give up that easy and, as he walked towards the bedroom looking for Kayla, his arm dripped blood on the ground, and his thigh shocked his whole body with agonizing pain with every step he took, and it dawned on him that he would die by the end of this night, whether he shot Kayla or not. But when he thought that nothing else could make this worse, John caught a glimpse of Kayla through the bedroom door and his cheeks lost their last bit of blood, turning his face pure white. Page 10 of 12

7 Kayla was tied to the bed; her hands and legs tied with a rope to each corner of the bed. She was sleeping – or at least she looked like it to John. His hand trembled with the weight of the gun as he pushed open the bedroom door and thoughts ran through his head. Should he kill Kayla and save himself? She’s sleeping; she wouldn’t know what happened. She’d just die in her sleep. He found himself lifting the gun slowly as he thought of the possibilities. Maybe she was already dead and this was just a game Melinda set up, but Kayla’s breasts – covered softly by the red silk gown – heaved up and down with each deep breath she took. Not dead. Sleeping maybe… or unconscious. But he won’t die here. Not like this. He had to get out; he still had so much to do in life and he won’t let it crumble because of a woman. He shook his head and clinched his eyes shut as he pulled himself together. Memories ran through his head – of himself and Kayla together; of Kayla walking to his desk every morning to bring him coffee and a kiss; of himself asking her out; of that party a couple months ago. John opened his eyes to find himself aiming along the gun in his hand. The gun’s sight was trained on Kayla’s chest. Something in his mind told him that there had to be another way, but he knew this was the only one. He had to get out of this nightmare. And Kayla had to die. He had made his mind. He needed to get out of the lake house, as far away as possible, get himself to a hospital. His arm and thigh were bleeding and he could barely stand anymore. He had already started to pull the trigger when a quite sigh broke the silence and Kayla opened her eyes. John saw Kayla wake up. She looked at him, her eyes still groggy as if she’d slept endless hours. His finger relaxed back and the gun in his hand moved lower and back to his side. He saw her realize what was going on – her limbs tied, his gun aimed towards her ready to take the shot – and her eyes widened in terror. Kayla struggled and wriggle to break herself free but to no avail. “JOHN!?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!!” Kayla screamed. It hurt John’s head but no more than the realization of what he was about to do. He pulled his gun upwards again. There was a clear moment in his mind then, a moment when all pain subsided and all thoughts went away. A moment when all memories disappeared.

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The action was so quick Kayla had no chance to react but with a whimper. She saw a resolution in John’s eyes she had never seen before. Then in less than a second John pulled the gun back up, pulled it towards him, squeezed the muzzle against his temple, and pulled the trigger. The shot rang loudly and echoed throughout the house and the lake. Then there was the splatter of brains as they hit the wall of the bedroom and the sound of John’s body crumbling to the floor. Then Kayla’s ropes came loose. Last sound Kayla heard was the click of the lake house’s front door.

Then silence.

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