The expensive mistake.

Stranger Danger

The city was bathed in twilight when Tricelle returned to her apartment. She had always loved this time of day; the streets hummed softly with the sounds of life, and the sun dipped low, casting long shadows that danced along her kitchen, it always calmed her, but today was different.

After Eric and Anne left, she made arrangements to meet with her father’s doctor, she needed to find this so-called evidence, she would have gone today but Leya reminded her of a few deadlines that needed to be done and a few clients that wanted to see her.

She was so busy that she almost forgot the image of Anne pushing herself onto Eric.

Almost.

She rubbed her temple, reminding herself that she needed to distance herself from Mr Black.

“Mister Fuzz” I brought you your favorite, gross salmon. She placed the silver tin on her white countertop.

Tricelle scanned her sleek kitchen; usually, her furry friend would be waiting for her. Frowning she placed her bag and a few papers on her kitchen table.

“Fine, be like that.” She yelled with a grin. Silence.

An unsettling chill crept along her spine—a feeling she couldn't shake off. She was used to his annoying purring and meowing.

“Fuzzy?” she called again while she searched the apartment, everything seemed in place, yet something felt undeniably off.

Her apartment was spotless like usual.

When she entered her room, she heard a faint ‘meow’ coming from her walk-in closet. She moved closer, listening. “meow” She heard it again, frowning she moved closer.

She quickly opened the door to find her grey cat sitting in the corner. His fur was raised and his blue eyes looked scared.

“What’s wrong fur-ball?” She asked mockingly, crouching and reaching her hand out to her cat, instead of his loving self the cat menacingly hissed at her.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Tricelle asked as she stood up. Annoyed. She had a rough day she didn’t expect to be welcomed with anger and hate.

Tricelle took a step back into her bedroom, in the corner of her eye she saw a slight movement. She froze, and an icy shiver of fear, ran through her bones.

There, shadowed in the corner near the heavy curtains, was a figure. A man, tall and sinewy, blending seamlessly into the darkness. He was dressed all in black which made him look like a demon.

Tricelle didn’t move, her heart racing. Sweat drops formed on her forehead.

“Nice of you to come home, Tricelle,” he said, his voice low and smooth, yet dripping with menace. She didn’t recognize his voice, he was a stranger. A stranger that was there to hurt her.

Her whole room seemed to have shrunk. She glanced slowly at the door, trying to figure out if she would be able to make it before he reached her. She knew that she would never make it, he stood in the middle of the room near the curtains, he would cut her off before she could even try.

“What do you want?” she dared to ask, trying to sound brave but failing. She turned to the stranger, her legs weak.

“Simple. You know too much. And you don’t want to give it up.”

The man stepped closer, revealing a face both beautiful and terrifying—a visage crafted for his dark profession. He had a long pink scar, running down his neck into his black shirt. His eyes were dark and cold.

‘My phone…Kitchen’ Tricelle softly cursed herself, she could run for the elevator, but it would take too long, running down the stairs would be a gamble. She could see from the man’s physic he was in top condition.

Just as the attacker was about to move closer, Tricelle’s cat appeared out of nowhere. With a fierce growl, Mister Fuzz leaped at the attacker, sinking his teeth and claws into his leg. The stranger yelped in pain and tried to shake off the determined feline.

The commotion gave Tricelle an opportunity. She moved as fast as she could reaching the door and slamming it closed. With tears in her eyes. ‘Sorry Fuzzy’.

Tricelle ran to the kitchen she could hear the man swearing and kicking in her bedroom.

With her hands trembling she rummaged through her bag for her phone. When she finally had her phone in her hand she called 911.

Watching the screen of her phone, she could hear a woman on the line.

“911 what is your emergency?”

In a blur, the stranger was behind her swinging a large object toward her head. Barely dodging, the force of his movement caused her to stumble sending her and her phone straight to the floor.

Her eyes shot up, seeing him holding her bedside lamp in his hand.

She scrambled up, realizing that her phone was gone. She stared at the man. His eyes were stone cold. He threw the lamp to the side, taking a step closer to her.

Adrenaline surged through her, igniting her determination to live. She wasn't going down without a fight.

“I don’t know why you are here, but I promise you, I will take you with me.” Tricelle lifted her hands, standing in the most common boxing position.

A wicked laugh escaped the man's throat before he swung at her, Tricelle tried to duck but his fist made contact with her jaw with a loud thud. A sharp pain shot through her jaw and she immediately tasted blood.

He laughed again as he stepped closer. Getting ready to punch her again.

Tricelle immediately countered with a quick jab to his stomach. He grunted, momentarily stunned. He didn’t expect her to fight back at all. Ignoring the pain in her jaw, she spit in his eyes, blood splattered over his face.

“b***h!” he screamed wiping at the red liquid.

Tricelle seized the chance to dart toward the kitchen, looking for something—anything—that could help her. Grabbing a heavy frying pan, she turned just in time to clock him across the face, sending him sprawling to the floor.

He was on all fours grunting, gasping for breath trying to focus. While the stranger was trying to regain his focus Tricelle scanned the floor, searching for her phone.

“ I won’t get paid if you're still breathing.” He gasped as he pushed against her chair to stand, Tricelle lifted the frying pan as he lunged again, but this time he avoided the pan by mere inches, grabbing her by her neck, Tricelle could feel his cold fingers clenching around her neck.

While he pushed her against her fridge, the man fumbled in his jacket and took out a knife that was glistening in the light. Tricelle’s eyes were wide while she kicked and screamed but his grip was like steel.

“Please,” her raspy voice begged. The room went silent, all Tricelle could focus on was the deadly blade in his hand.

Before Tricelle could react the man plunged the knife into her side, a sharp pain searing through her body. She felt the cold edge of the blade cut through the fabric of her shirt and then into her skin. Pain radiated through her body as she gasped, her vision blurring. She tried to look down but his hands around her neck kept her still.

The world around her twisted and stretched, ‘I am not going to die …here ..alone.’ She thought scared fighting the darkness that wanted to take her.

In a desperate move, Tricelle made herself completely limp, closing her eyes and holding her breath, causing her attacker to underestimate her and loosen his grip. With a menacing smile, he pulled the knife back for another strike.

Taking a deep breath Tricelle pushed him away with all her strength, ignoring the pain in her side. The man stumbled slightly to the back. freeing her from his grip.

Tricelle grabbed her side as the blood oozed out, she started limping towards the large glass window, her attacker only watched her, like a lion watching its prey.

“F**k you.” She blurted out when she reached the window. Staring at him with full rage.

His shocked eyes, turned into hateful eyes as he lunged toward her. Tricelle gathered all her strength that was left in her weak body and sidestepped, shoving him as hard as she could with all her strength toward the window.

Tricelle didn’t know if it was luck or a higher power that intervened, but he lost his balance and stumbled backward, crashing through the glass. Instantly she tried grabbing his hand to save him, but she was too slow. Time seemed to slow as she watched him fall, the shattered pieces of her life cascading around him like shimmering confetti. Glass shards everywhere.

She stood near the broken window watching the motionless body, blood surrounded him as he lay on the road.

With a sudden burst of clarity, she felt the sharp pain above her ribs, blood seeping through her fingers as she gasped, the adrenaline fading rapidly

Staggering back, she breathed heavily, collapsing onto the floor. Despite her victory, she felt the cold grip of defeat entwining her mind. Small alarms of her survival dimmed as darkness crept in around the edges of her vision.

Tricelle lay on the floor, the distant sounds of sirens growing louder, and she held on to the hope that maybe—just maybe—someone was coming to save her.